Page 282 of Cursed Evermore
“What The Shadow Valued Most”
The starless night matched my fury as I stalked through the gnarled trees, each step bringing me closer to the Soul Weaver and farther away from Elariya.
Each footfall on the damp earth echoed my heartbeat as I pushed deeper into the maze of twisted branches while rage burned through my veins.
She was being watched, too. I should be with her. Not out here looking for this fucking necromancer.
I'd rushed home the moment I got word of what happened, then checked out Hyxian myself. I couldn't believe that I would have been relieved to find some trace left by one of Dreynthor's loathsome spies. Instead, I found the echo of a darkening with the same bitter taste in the air as the magic used to glamour the camp.
With nothing to trace, all I could do was get back to her and comfort her with what felt like lies—that she’d be okay when I knew nothing of the sort.
Now, I was here out in the Myrtle Woodlands well past the witching hour. My scouts had located the necromancer’s lair. All I needed to do was findthe bastard.
Given the dire situation and the benefit of getting this intel so quickly, I should have been rejoicing. But I couldn't feel any joy when I knew my place should be at my mage's side, protecting her.
Behind me, Alaric and Bastian matched my pace, though I could hear Bastian rustling with the map my scouts had given him. As expected, the Soul Weaver lived in the depths of the darkest woods in Galaythia. The place where even monsters feared their own shadows.
Nothing could be trusted here. Not the trees that murmured with voices of the dead, not the air that hung thick with the scent of graves, nor even your own heartbeat. Because between one pulse and the next, a restless spirit could crawl beneath your skin and make your body its home.
"Wolfe." Alaric's voice cut through the darkness as his longer stride brought him alongside me.
“What?” I hissed.
He placed a hand on my shoulder and gave me a hard stare. "You need to calm the fuck down."
I didn't slow my pace. "I'm perfectly calm."
"No, you're not. You're seething, and that's going to give our position away, or worse, get us killed if you can't focus." His tone was firm but understanding.
I glanced at him and sighed, seeing the sense in his caution.
I slowed down, but my mind was still with her.
"Stop worrying about Elariya. She should be safe at the manor."
I shot him a sharp look. Alaric knew about my relationship with Elariya. He probably knew how I felt about her before I did, but he'd never once offered advice about her. That had alwaysbeen Bastian's territory. Alaric kept to strategy, to duty, to the mission at hand. We never spoke about relationships.Ever.
We'd both been the same way until recently. He fucked aroundallthe time, just like me before Father died. Neither of us were the best at giving relationship advice, so it was one of those gray areas that were off limits.
"I know what happened at the library was worrying," he continued, seeming to sense my surprise at his directness. "But we have to focus on getting to the necromancer now.Wecan't protect her if we're dead."
We. I didn’t miss the emphasis in his tone, nor the conviction in his stare.
“No, I guess we can’t.”
“We’ll figure this out. All of it. Hopefully soon.”
“Thanks.”
He dipped his head. “The girl's got steel in her spine. She suits you.”
I smirked at that, appreciating his attempt to make me feel better. “Is that your way of giving me your blessing?”
“I guess so, though you don’t need it.” He cocked his head and grinned. “I think she handled what happened at the library better than most.”
“Yeah. I have to give her credit for that.”
"Yes. And she’s not alone now. Garrick and Arielle, and even Sirril, are with her." He nodded. “Hopefully, when we find this asshole, we’ll get some answers.”
