Page 6 of Flight of Fate

And he would know. Ephegos tested the drug on him in the very beginning.

I’m still uncertain if I should pity the warrior for the choices he made or be upset with him. However I feel, it doesn’t change a thing. He’s still bound by his oath to the traitor Crow, andwhatever he does, it can’t be to aid me or he’ll suffer the consequences of the ancient magic of binding fae promises.

Wiping his hands on his leather pants, Herinor gets to his feet. “Time to join the fun.” And with a wink, he sets out to the back of the arena where Myron has Royad at the tip of his blade. “We don’t want our king to accidentally slit Royad’s throat.”

His chuckle lingers, even when he crosses the arena, sidestepping sparring pairs and twisting out of blades’ paths like that’s all he’s done for the past millennium. I remain where I am, cold and empty once more, and wonder if there’s any part of this war I can be of use in.

The following night, I don’t sleep on the pillow next to Myron’s. I don’t sleep at all. Instead of following my mate to the temple of the Brother Guardian, I make my way out across the palace grounds and the small forest at the edge of the premises on my own. Cold wind presses down on my wings as I make it past the city walls and the army encampments there. Tori mentioned that they are gathering south of Aceleau, but I hadn’t imagined a camp large enough to make a village of its own. It makes sense, though. They all need to train, and if Erina makes an unexpected move, the capital will be protected.

The water surrounding the city walls shimmers in the firelight of the camp like a rippling gilded mirror, tempting me to land and beg it to respond to the magic I once held, but I push forward, making for the layer of clouds higher up, the cold creeping through my coat like fingers of ice.

A caw rips from my beak as I shout my frustration at the goddess who has done nothing but protect and warn me.

Vala doesn’t respond, no matter how frantically I flutter through the cocoon of frozen droplets as I beg and pray and caw, caw, caw, the wind carrying me higher and higher until the air becomes thin and my head fuzzy and I need to submit to my limits.

Muscles aching and strength draining, I glide downward, harnessing the winds to carry me back to the city.

I’m nearly above the army camp once more when a gust of icy air pushes me off course, and I tumble through the skies in a wild roll before I manage to spread my wings once more, bracing against the current. It’s no longer running toward Aceleau but north, away from the lights on the ground, toward the outline of mountains against stars.

I beat my wings hard, fighting the draft, but I’m caught, and my tiny body is nothing but a leaf in a tossing ocean. Fear has an iron hold on my chest, my heart racing as I work to steady my course, but control has slipped from my claws like a fish from bare fingers, and I’m adrift on the whims of the storm.

It’s when I think my strength is failing me that the air abruptly stills and I’m suspended in a web of energy that seems to be holding me from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. With a last effort, I manage to stabilize myself enough to notice an orange dot in the distance.

The energy falters, nearly letting me plunge to the ground, but I’m a crow now, and my instincts are stronger than in my human form. Pain sears through my back as I spread my wings wide, catching myself on an updraft and circling toward the copse of pines near what I identify to be a campfire.

Not an army camp, though. This is too far from Aceleau and Recienne’s legions gathering in the southeast. This is the north, and the size of the fire indicates there can’t be more than a few people. Forest fairies, perhaps. I’ve heard about them from Clio—about the creatures who live in the wild and turn into big-eyeddeer even when their teeth can kill. Have heard the stories from Silas, too, how they faced those in the last war. There’s so much I need to learn about this realm, so many dangers I haven’t even considered.

The fireside being one of them.

I land on the top of a pine, panting and shivering as I wait for my straining heart to slow. That’s when I see them.

Through the branches, I notice three figures huddled against the fire. Blankets cover their broad forms, drawn up to their necks, but I spot the pointed ears peeking out from under their hair. Light packs sit behind them against a man-high boulder, the light making their shadows dance on the pale rock. Something inside me screamsdanger.

I should fly away, get out of here before they spot me spying, but a part of me—the human part—pushes to sneak closer, to hear their murmured words.

So I do.

Ignoring the ache in my muscles, I hop a branch lower so I can see more of their faces, one dark-skinned with short black hair, the other two lighter in skin tone with brown, shoulder-length waves—all beautiful the way only fairies are. But what sort of fairies are they?

Another level down, my claws dig into the bark as I lean to the side to see more details of their attire, but the only parts sticking out from under the ordinary gray blankets are their boots, and those are nondescript and functional.

Whoever they are, they aren’t advertising their allegiance. No coats of arms on their packs or their blankets. If only I could see the rest of their clothes.

One of the brown-haired males laughs at something the dark-skinned one said.

I use the moment where his laughter covers the sound to hop even lower.

“I’ll take the redhead,” the one who laughed says in response to what I hadn’t picked up before. “Her tits seem to be worth the wait.”

“Only if you let me watch,” the other one says, and I notice the similarities in their features—twins.

“Watch, join, do whatever you like, brother, as long as I get to fuck her first.”

The third male chuckles and shakes his head. “The two of you are a particular brand of gross.”

“Just because you never get laid doesn’t mean we need to abstain from all merriment,” one of the twins says, leaning back against his pack and closing his eyes. “When we get back from this mission, I’ll happily find you a female to entertain—or a male if you prefer.”

Taking a swig from the flask in his hands, the other twin bobs his head. “We’ll get you all the males and females you want as long as you don’t get us killed on this mission.”

---