Page 22 of Last Ride of the Umbra Fae

Pa sighed.

“What am I missing here?” Ryder said.

“You’ll see.” Pa dipped his chin.

It was our ride into town that I enjoyed the most.

It was freeing.

Releasing.

It was our small tradition—Raven riding on my arm was his way of riding a horse.

I knew if he had a choice, a real choice, that is, one where he wasn’t tied to the fucking mess I was, then maybe in another lifetime, he would have wanted to be a rancher. Maybe a farmer, anything other than the life he’d been given now. If freedom ever had a name, it wouldn’t be Raven. The boy he’d been before had died the day he’d been tied to me. And yet, fae or bird, he still couldn’t keep those eyes off me. I would always be in his line of sight.

As we crestedthe top of the wind-sculpted dunes, I dismounted, ignoring the pain that swept up my legs upon landing. I kneeled down, pinching the grains of sand between my fingers. The soft, white grains were mixed with smooth, ivory pieces.

“These aren’t from stones,” I said, confirming my own suspicions as I grabbed a handful and sifted more of it into my palm. They had once been skulls, crushed and redacted to nothing but sand. A thick, heavy cloud of ash drifted up from the motion, causing me to cough.

“Careful darlin’. You’ll want to wear this while you ride into town,” Ryder said, tossing me a black bandana. I covered my nose and mouth, leaving my eyes exposed.

When I mounted my mare, I glanced at Ryder, who lifted the cloth over his face.

“Best you keep it on, even when we stop,” he said with his voice slightly muffled. Those piercing blue eyes roamed over my face, studying the luminance of my freckles before that penetrating gaze flicked to mine. “These people are very leery of newcomers. If they see how bright you shine, they might want to cut out that pretty little heart of yours.”

Tightening the cloth at the back of my head, I grinned. “I’d like to see those fuckers try.” They’d be lucky if I left any of them alive come sunrise tomorrow.

The creases in his eyes hid a smirk. He nodded at Pa, who already wore a gray bandana.

The thrumming against the mark on my sternum pulsed, an echo of a memory only my soul could recognize as we rode into town.

“This place is a tomb,” I murmured, suddenly feeling a chill sweep down my spine as I thought about standing on the graves of fae.

Ash Dunes was the final town before we reached The City of Donia. It would be less than a week before we stood on theother side of those walls, in the middle of an entire civilization who would kill us on a whim. It was tempting not to just storm their sanctuary and end every last one of them. The power ofAnocoursed through me, and for the first time, I felt a threat of something on the rise.

I wanted to leave the moment we arrived, but the closer we got to The City of Donia, the closer I felt more of the tonic. I found myself imagining what it would be like to have enough, to wake up and not feel like my entire body was on fire. Give me a chest full, and I would never have to ask for it again. But then, a part of my mind danced on the edges of temptation; what if I never took it at all? Would I suddenly ignite and burn to ash? Would I die a painful death? Or simply just perish in the most basic way possible? All of those felt better than living in the current condition of this body.

As we continued our ride into town, I realized karma sometimes had a way of coming back to haunt you. The people who lived in this town wore bandanas over their mouths as they hastily walked from building to building. Some disguised the necessity with decorative cloth, but they had no choice but to live in the hell they’d created. By the looks of some of them, they didn’t seem to care either.

This was by far the biggest town we had ever been in, with rows upon rows of homes and small businesses bustling with life beyond their doors. I was surprised Ash Dunes held a town like this.

We would use this time to wind down, kick up our boots, have a few good drinks, and wash any remnants of travel off our bodies. Fill our bellies to the brim and go through our plans. It struck me as odd that Pa wanted to discuss them once we settled into our rooms, but then again, with how he’d been acting on the whim lately, it wasn’t too big of a surprise.

Somewhere in this tomb of a town, I would find my bearings. I couldn’t change what had happened to them. But it sparked something inside me—maybe I could prevent this from happening again so there would be no more towns made by the bones and ash of fae or rivers staining the forests with their blood.

I pulleddown my bandana as we walked into the finest hotel Ash Dunes had to offer. I did my usual: pulled the brim of my hat lower and waited by the bar while Pa talked to the lady of the house. Only this time, it was a young boy. His golden skin glowed against the lighting. He had light brown hair that brushed against the tips of his ears, but something caught me off-guard. As I hung out by the bar, swishing my drink, I could have sworn I saw pointed ears.

“That little boy right there is fae,” Ryder said. I looked again, but his ears were round like a human’s.

I blinked back.What did I just see?

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Most of the fae in these towns work for the humans. They use a glamor to hide their pointed ears.”

I gasped. “A glamor?”

“Desert Storm, you’re surprised?” He curled a thick brow in observation. The scent of licorice and spice filled the air as he leaned closer. “Fae nowadays use glamor to hide their ears, but it seems like your Pa there has always remained too far off the grid to know what the rest of the fucking world is doing. It’s new and still experimental.”

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