Page 35 of Bane of the Wild Hunt

“I will let him know. I am not blocked,” Ciaran said without taking his eyes off his knife.

“Blocked?” I repeated in confusion, glancing at Sage. Ciaran merely tapped his temple without looking up, but I knew what he meant. “Heblockedyou?” I gaped at Sage.

“And I cannot blame him,” he replied.

“Um,yesyou can! He would have killed––”

“His actions do not invalidate my own,” Sage insisted, and my eyes widened at him in disbelief.

“Someone loses control, nearly kills us, and you have to use force to stop them from doing it, and your response is to look for the reasons whyyoufailedthem?”

“Luckily for you, Sage is prone to self-blaming,” muttered Ciaran, and I shot him a furious glower.

“I will make amends with Rian when he is ready to speak with me about it, but until then, I don’t really want to talk about it,” Sage admitted. And after he had been so respectful of my boundaries, I wanted to honour his too. Even if it went against my impulses.

We ate our breakfast, packed our meager supplies, and then split up to inform the other aes sídhe to get ready to go to their new temporary home. I huddled under a hood, shielding most of my face behind a scarf, and tried to be quick enough to avoid being drawn into conversations. Too many of them recognized me, however, undoubtedly thanks to the auburn vargr that insisted on following me, and theyhadto thank me. Some even wanted to take my hands or pat my shoulders which I could barely tolerate. After the first couple of fires, all I wanted to do was seek the solitude of the ancient forest around us. I wanted to climb a tree and watch them all from a safe distance as they got ready, but I forced myself to go to the next fire.

When I was finally done with my section, I found Sage at the edge of the clearing and wordlessly began to help him take down one of the yurts. It seemed like it had been used by the handfulof elderly fey who were sitting in two wagons nearby and eating breakfast.

“Are you going to wear yourself out as badly as Ciaran did holding the portal last night?” I asked Sage quietly, loathing the thought of seeing him so weak again.

“There are no enemies to fight, no need for either of us to keep up our strength, so I will channel him. The portal will be much bigger and everything should move faster,” he assured me as he folded up the canvas that we’d been collapsing together. He tucked it into the open trunk next to him and then heaved the chest onto one of the wagons next to an old male who draped an arm over it.

“Good. I didn’t want to have to carry you through the portal this time,” I informed Sage, biting both of my lips between my teeth to prevent myself from grinning.

“Not even after I carried you here?” he asked with an amused glance at me before he turned to pick up the handles of one of the carts. The females in the back all gave exaggerated gasps when he lifted it and began to haul them away. I grabbed the other cart, pulling it into line behind him as we dragged the old aes sídhe toward the line that was forming in the clearing.

“I had just saved your life. I deserved it,” I quipped, earning myself a couple sly glances from the old people in the back of Sage’s cart.

“And you are never going to let me forget it, but you will not allow me to thank you properly,” Sage said back over his shoulder.

“If I were to allow you to thank me properly, then I couldn’t hold it over your head anymore.”

“Wise girl,” said one of the old females, and the others tittered along with her.

“Mhmm,” was Sage’s response as he shook his head, making me smile from behind him.

We brought the two carts to the back of the line where several warriors were helping all the injured and elderly. My eyes strayed to the wounded fey, but Sage snagged my hand. Serafin and Pyrope followed us to where Ciaran was chatting with a warrior in front of the line.

“Are we ready?” asked Sage once the other fey went to carry out whatever orders Ciaran had given him.

“I think so,” Ciaran answered with a glance behind him at the valley below. I followed his quick glance and couldn’t help wondering if the plumes of smoke rising in the distance were from their destroyed village.

“I will need to stay here to hold the portal. Will you help Ciaran and our warriors move people as quickly as possible through the portal?” Sage asked, and I nodded.

“Will the vargr be alright?” I asked him, glancing back at Serafin and Pyrope. When Sage insisted that I should go through the portal without him, it was because the vargr would be unpredictable among so many aes sídhe during a fight.

“There is no mortal danger to us, so they will be fine,” he said as he turned to look back at them as well.

Serafin had already curled up on the ground with his head on his paws as if he knew he and his rider would be here for a while. Pyrope was watching me and twisting her canine head back and forth, those large, fox-like ears fully erect as if she were trying to listen to something.

“She is trying to hear you,” Sage advised me when he saw me watching her in confusion.

“I’m not speaking,” I pointed out, and the vargr’s ears perked up eagerly at the sound of my voice.

“In here, Summer,” said Sage, tapping his finger on his temple with a gentle smile.

“You mean Serafin can hear your thoughts?” I gaped.

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