Page 11 of Flight of Fate

“If she doesn’t show up by morning, we’ll send out scouts.” He ushers Kaira along the corridor back to our rooms but fallsinto step beside me as I make my way back to gather more weapons and set out to find my mate myself.

“Not soon enough. By the morning, she could be so far away we can no longer track her.” Not that we can properly track her now. If only she’d tug on our mating bond, I could find her, but since she’s stuck in her bird form and our bond hasn’t been the strongest since Erina tried to un-mate us, I can’t even count on that—if she even remembers she has a mate.

This is so messed up I can’t find words to describe it.

“The storm is still raging out there,” Silas points out, his presence behind me more calming than I would have expected. When he shared his story of losing Dahlia, I learned that there is so much more to the broody warrior than I could have ever imagined. He has compassion for Ayna and for me when all he ever shows is that dark and sarcastic side. “If you fly out there, you might get caught in the current, and you won’t be of any use to Ayna if you get yourself injured in a fool’s attempt at a rescue she might not even need.”

I hate that he’s right.

“I’ll fly with you,” Royad offers, ready to get beaten up by the weather if it means I have some peace of mind.

It’s that readiness to sacrifice that gives me pause, and I halt on the threshold, considering Kaira draped in her blanket and how she huddles unusually close to Herinor, who’s now sitting on the sofa as she swallows her now silent tears. A pang of guilt eases me back across the threshold, making me head straight for the window instead of my room.

“A few more hours until dawn,” I clarify with a glance at Tori.

The male nods. “If she hasn’t shown up at first light, I’ll send scouts, I promise.”

Not a binding promise the way fae promises are binding but a promise nonetheless.

“If she hasn’t returned by first light, I’ll be the first one out the door.”

Time passes in a nightmare of agonizingly slow minutes. I sip the tea Tori conjures from thin air, but I never leave my spot by the window. Royad takes it upon himself to check my room regularly for signs of Ayna, and even if the wind carries in leaves and dirt, we keep all windows open, lest we miss her approach and she’s locked out.

When at last the wind dies down, the first ray of sun is tickling the retreating clouds, and my patience has come to an end.

With a few efficient movements, I strap my weapons to my belt, my back, and pause in front of the fairy general only long enough to tell him I’ll scout the palace grounds first, and if I don’t find a sign of her there, I’ll set out south. If anyone caught her, they would be coming from that direction.

Royad is right there with me as is Silas, now dressed in battle black with his hatchet on his belt and his sword sheathed across his back.

Herinor remains seated beside Kaira, who tried reaching her sister through that mind connection they share and found only disconcerting silence. Whatever calm the Flame held before has long vanished, and she hasn’t stopped pestering Tori to take her along when he site-hops out to search for her sister; her own leathers are covered in a cloak, bundled up against the cold even with the spark of fire in her.

Tori has the good sense not to attempt to stop me. Dipping his chin once, he says, “Come back and report when you’vesearched the premises. I’ll put together a group of strong soldiers who can site-hop out to comb the lands.”

Silent understanding passes between Royad and him as my cousin burns a warning toward the general.

If we are too late because of Tori’s hesitation, there will be consequences. He knows it; I know it. We all know it, and I beg all gods who will listen that Ayna has been simply hiding in an alcove along the palace walls and waiting for the night to be over.

Shifting in a flash, we’re out the window, fluttering into the biting-cold morning. Adrenaline surges through my blood as I finally allow myself to hunt for my mate, bird instincts meeting those of the Crow male I’ve been keeping on a tight leash since Ayna got stuck in bird form.

Silas takes the north side of the palace while Royad turns west, circling above the towers before banking hard and scouting the yard and the area of the gate on the other side of the building. My own course takes me southeast. One caw from the others and I’ll know to return with hope in my heart.

She could be anywhere, in any tree by the edge of the gardens or hiding beneath the roof, so I take my time, screening every nook and cranny as I circle higher to have a better overview.

No sign of Ayna. Just like Shaelak is lending me a helping hand, there is no flock of crows either that could make my heart surge with hope just to drop back to the depths of Hel’s realm when I realize she’s not with them.

It takes an efficient quarter-hour to finish my search of the gardens, and I only return to the palace because I know we have higher chances of finding Ayna if we properly coordinate, but the roaring in my head gets louder with every minute I don’t know where she is.

Tori is already waiting with twelve soldiers, one of them Tata, who looks ready to kill. “Half of us will start east; the other half will take the west,” he announces.

I dip my chin in thanks and confirmation. “Then we’ll take south and north.”

Herinor is ready and armed, standing with Kaira a few steps from Tori. If he’s planned to help, it might kick off a disaster.

“You’re staying.” It’s not a suggestion but an order from his king. Much to my surprise, he doesn’t look relieved.

“If I make it to helpyou, I could get away with it.”

Like he’s done so many times before. Help me so I can help Ayna. Help everyone else so he can disguise his intentions to aid his queen.

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