Page 57 of Flight of Fate

Herinor runs his fingers across his stubbled jaw, drawing a secret gaze from Kaira. “As you told Erina, Ephegoswillbetray him the moment he no longer has use for him. That doesn’t keep Ephegos from needing Erina for now. He needs the numbers and the magic-nullifying serum to equip an army against magical opponents. He needs the authority Erina’s trust installs in the Tavrasian troops—a Crow leading a human army.” He shakes his head, ignoring our stares as he muses. “Who would have guessed that was ever possible? Just as likely as a human breaking Vala’s curse on us.” His gaze bounces tomine, unexpected warmth shimmering in the green depths of his irises.

“Not so human anymore,” I remind him, noting the corner of his mouth lifting in response.

Myron’s hand tightens at the edge of my waist, and I nearly chuckle at the proprietary behavior, even when my core heats at the swipe of his thumb along the bottom of my ribs.

So fast I can’t even blink, Herinor’s gaze drops from mine, and he clears his throat. “The question remains, what does Erina hold against Ephegos? Does he have a secret weapon we don’t know of? Or is he simply an overconfident monarch underestimating the power of a Crow male on a mission?” I don’t know why Kaira’s cheeks stain pink as they lock gazes, and the momentary pain in Herinor’s eyes makes me want to smooth whatever broke between them.

“Don’t even think about it,”Kaira warns in her mind, easily hooking into mine, despite my spending days working on my shield after shifting into this new body. Tori’s theory is that our sibling connection is like a direct channel between us, even when she excels at shielding and snooping around in my thoughts far beyond what I could ever achieve.

“About what?”I innocently ask, turning back to the map before assessing the region the others were studying. “What does the yellow circle mean?” I point at the sun-yellow line enclosing the location of the farm.

“That’s the perimeter where the rebels have spotted spies combing through the lands for whatever they’re searching for,” Tori informs us, brows pinched as if he’s seeing the entire terrain before him, every dark corner and hiding place for Erina’s men. “If Pouly has been telling Tata the truth, more and more soldiers have been sneaking around the area.”

“More of the rebels have gathered there to keep an eye on the development,” Tata adds. “I’m convinced Erina is up to something.”

“He always is.” Because it’s the truth. There wasn’t a single moment during my time at his palace where he hadn’t played a double game. Proud and likable king to the masses—cruel, miserable bastard behind the scenes.

As if in confirmation, Myron hums, lacing his fingers with mine. Warmth trickles through the bond right into my palm, a reminder of the unbreakable connection weaving us together.

At the head of the table, Rogue is idly tapping his fingers on the map. “My own armies are ready. We haven’t spotted a single Tavrasian soldier since the infiltration in the north.”

Tori dips his chin in approval. “I have my more powerful warriors renewing the wards on the city every day to prevent new breaches, and I’ve informed the people to remain on alert and inform us if they spot anything suspicious, but so far, there has been no trackable activity.” His gaze wanders to Myron. “If the Crows would be trying to unweave them, could we trace their attempts?” The wariness in his gaze tells me everything I need to know about how much he cares for the safety of the remaining residents of Aceleau. He’s blaming himself for the first attack to begin with.

Straightening away from the table, Myron holds the general’s gaze. “Unmaking wards is a talent of ours, but even Crows leave marks of their power when working through a ward.”

Tori’s shoulders sag with relief, but he isn’t the only one. Rogue and Clio’s chests heave in unison, and Tata closes her eyes as she braces her hands on the edge of the table, squeezing into the narrow space between Royad and Silas.

“They won’t return to Aceleau,” Herinor says from his seat on the side. All heads turn toward him, and he shrugs as if his assessment is obvious. “They got what they wanted. Theyshowed us how vulnerable our defenses truly are, and Ephegos found Shaelak.”

The air thickens around me, breathing becoming an effort, as Myron’s dark power slithers from his fingers in answer to Herinor’s words, and when I turn my gaze to my mate’s, his lips are pursed in a tight line, black veins creeping around his eyes.

I’m not ready to discuss Ephegos’s deal with the Brother Guardian, so I wave the letters still clutched in my hand at the group gathered around the map, attempting my best neutral expression.

“Maybe I should read these first before we hop into a wild guessing game of what exactly is going on in the borderlands, what Ephegos plans to do to murder my mate, and whether he’s leaving his ally in the dark.”

I don’t wait for any of them to agree before I set the stack down on the table, keeping only the top letter in my hand and slicing the envelope open with a thin blade made of the silver Crow power I’ve been working to cultivate these past weeks since my shift.

Thirty-Four

Ayna

My dearest Andraya,

I’m writing this letter as I can’t speak these words aloud to anyone. Perhaps writing them down will save my sanity, and perhaps you knowing the truth will buy my daughter a chance at survival. They executed Ivan. Not for the official reasons you might have heard—traitor to the Crown of Tavras. No, they are executing a Milevishja royal. An heir to Tavras’s throne. I’ve suspected for years, but he never confirmed, probably because he wanted to protect our little Ayna and me, but today I’m certain.

When you read this, Ayna and I will be long gone. I won’t tell you where we’re going, but rest assured, it will be far away from the Jelnedyn court and its dealings. I can’t have my little child executed for her bloodline as well, and after what the king has done to my Ivan, I can no longer in good faith see her married to Erina. If ‘like father, like son’ applies on any level, Ayna better never come near the Jelnedyn heir. She better never know her heritage. She’ll be safer for it. And happier.

When you read this, Andraya, don’t think of me as a coward. Think of me as a mother who can’t stand to see her child sold off to a fate of certain cruelty. Keep your eyes open,my friend, for if Ayna ever returns to Meer, if she’s ever recognized for who she is, she’ll need someone she can trust.

If you ever hear about the Milevishja heir, strap on your knives, and come find her. For if she ever returns to Meer, it will mean I’m no longer alive to protect her. She’ll need you. And I trust you to come for her.

With all my love,

Elenja

Thirty-Five

Ayna

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