Page 54 of Oath of War
‘And I’ve never regretted it.’
We were still waiting for the horses, and I briefly thought of using Vahin, but my dragon was exhausted. His muscles ached, his hunger gnawed, and I knew the moment he took to the skies, he’d need to hunt. Hoping to distract him, I turned to my mates and asked, ‘Do you think you’ll ever be able to share what happened on the other side of the portal?’
They shared a glance before Annika sighed. ‘I don’t know. It’s not that I don’twantto tell you, but every time I try, my thoughts get muddled. I can’t find the words.’
‘It feels like some kind of geas,’ Alaric added. ‘All I can say is that Ani made a bargain that ended my curse and earned my freedom. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of her.’
Ani reached out and gently stroked his face, her expression softening. ‘You were already worthy. I love you. So, stop thinking that way. There’s no tallying gains or losses here—I’ve already won. I have a second chance at love, and I’ll fight for it because life without you three wouldn’t be worth living. I hope, one day, you’ll stop believing you’re not enough.’
Alaric was right—she was a diamond. I felt it deep in my soul, the purity of Annika’s feelings, the impressive strength that made her bargain with a goddess for our mate. She had a sharp tongue and refused to bow to anyone, but under the sass, brass, and wicked temper was a spirit that entranced us all.
Through our link, Vahin’s voice interrupted my thoughts. ‘She is all that and more. That’s why the goddess let her leave. But I can feel a tether, a touch of darkness. It isn’t harming her, but it clings to her soul. It is so strong that my Little Flame will never be free of it.’
The bitterness in his tone revealed his unhappiness, and I understood. Annika had sacrificed more than she’d ever admit to save us.
‘How are you feeling?’ I asked him. ‘Today was ... difficult.’
‘Hungry. Tired. Nothing you wouldn’t expect after a strenuous journey,’ he responded after a moment of hesitation. ‘But I don’t want to leave her. After seeing what happened to my brethren, I was ... afraid, and that fear brought out a part of me I thought long buried.’
The uncertainty in his thoughts indicated that the admission surprised him.
‘You mean when you threatened to unleash destruction on that petulant bitch?’ I joked, trying to lighten the mood. ‘You just said what we all were thinking, so maybe we’re a bad influence on you.’ I gestured towards the sky.‘Go hunt. You need to look after yourself. Annika already said she’s spending the night with you, and as much as it pains me, I won’t be an arse about it.’
The wave of gratitude flowing through our connection made me smile. Sometimes, Vahin felt like just another man, hopelessly in love with the force of nature who had ensnared us all.
‘Oh, but I do love her, Orm,’ he thought, unfolding his wings. ‘Just because I can’t be with her in the way you are, it doesn’t make those feelings any less valid.’
Annika looked up at Vahin, surprised by the sudden movement, and he backed away as he prepared to take off. ‘I need to feed, Little Flame,’ he said, and she nodded, sheltering her eyes from the gusts of wind as he disappeared into the sky.
‘Let’s get you home, Nivale,’ I said, noticing a soldier by the gate gesturing to catch my attention. We left the arena, and I looked around the crowded street, trying to find our mounts, frowning at the carriage with the royal insignia blocking my view as we approached him.
‘His Majesty thought a carriage would be better for Lady Annika after her ordeal,’ the soldier said.
Embarrassed that I hadn’t thought of it myself, I silently blessed my brother for the thoughtful gesture. But as we walked towards it, I snorted at the gold-covered monstrosity—Reynard had clearly gifted it to us to avoid using it himself.
Inside, however, the plush red cushions and delicate fabrics were surprisingly inviting. The carriage smelled of flowers, their fragrance soft and calming. Ani let out a tranquil sigh as she nearly disappeared into the cushions, placing her feet on my lap, and I gently massaged her muscles.
She drifted off to sleep quickly, her breathing steady, while Alaric rested beside me, his hand on my thigh. The soothing weight lulled me into a sense of contentment, but just as I began to relax, his grip tightened painfully, jolting me awake.
We’d left the heart of the city and were moving through the noble district when I realised that Ari was deathly quiet beside me, the tension in his body disturbing me more with every passing moment.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘We’re going in the wrong direction,’ he said, his voice low. ‘I initially thought it was just to avoid the merchant quarter, but the sun is to the west, and we are heading towards the river port.’ He paused, then added, ‘And ... I feel sleepy. I don’t want to fight or care ... it’s not natural.’
He was hesitant, but seeing the deep frown on his face, I rose from my seat and grasped the carriage door, waking Annika as I moved. She shook her head, disoriented, while I yanked at the handle. The door was locked. I tried again, and familiar, taunting laughter rang out from outside, triggering the berserker in me.
‘Don’t bother, Commander. The carriage is sealed and bespelled, and by the time we reach our destination, my concoction will have done its job. You’ll be as docile as a little lamb.’
‘Ihrain,’ Annika whispered, her pupils dilating with fury. Her hand shot forward.
‘Quanre.’1
Nothing happened.
She turned to Alaric, whose grim expression mirrored her own. ‘I can’t cast either,’ he said, holding onto the ornate frame when the carriage jolted, picking up speed. ‘That venomous viper! He must have sprayed lanara and masked it with a floral scent.’ His hand slipped, and he stared at his palm in surprise. ‘Hrae! He used nivale oil. That explains why we’re so drowsy.’
My stomach dropped. Nivale root, often used to ease the dying into a peaceful transition, was readily available. But nivale oil, distilled from its fiery petals, was far more potent and extraordinarily rare. It was typically reserved for the gravest of agonies, applied to a cloth and held gently over a loved one’s face, granting them a fleeting moment of tranquillity before death. To coat the entire interior of the carriage with it was an act of grotesque extravagance—one that must have required months, if not years, to gather such a quantity.
