Page 72 of A Warrior's Fate

And then she was discharged, and life went on as normal.

Nurses made their rounds through the halls. The occasional visitors to see patients. No extra security or guard.

It was as if nothing had happened at all.

Isla wasn’t sure if she should’ve been unnerved or grateful for it.

She did know that it took everything in her not to turn back. Not to scale those stairs until she reached the fifth floor to behold the aftermath. To repent for—

No.

No, Lukas was fine. He was fine.

She repeated those words over and over until she reached Callisto’s Hall because it was noon and time for her to leave this pack and as many memories of it as she could behind.

Many of those from Io who’d come for the feast and to witness the descent of the hunters only had already returned to the pack and their duties. The only few that Isla knew remained within the territory were she, Adrien, Sebastian, her father, and a few other members and officials. All of them were supposed to depart today, but as Isla boarded the scarcely populated transport vehicle parked in the hall’s long driveway, she realized her father was nowhere in sight.

“Where’s Dad?” she asked Sebastian who’d made a home lounging in the back, spread across two seats, prepared to sleep for as much of the journey as possible.

“He still has things to take care of here,” he told her.

“What kind of things?” she asked, knowing the answer she’d receive.

“Things he won’t even tell me about.”

Isla ran her gaze over her brother’s face. A skilled liar through and through—but she could tell he was being honest. A selfish part of her liked that they were both clueless, but the rest had gone rigid as her mind ran wild. She glanced out of the windows and in the direction of the infirmary in the distance.

Maybe they were screwed.

“I’ll see you in prison.”

She whipped around to glare at her brother and his ill-timed quip just as he closed his eyes and leaned further back in his seat.

Adrien boarded about ten minutes later, taking the spot a row behind Isla, but in her eye-line. He hadn’t heard anything about Lukas either. But unlike her brother, she clocked something unspoken in his stare. She didn’t press on it, though. Not here with others. Not here when the vehicle had already revved to life and set them off on their journey home.

Isla could tell how close they were getting to Io by the feel of the heat and the increasing humidity. Summertime in their homeland could be damn near insufferable sometimes, and the weather was not bound by borders. Even if they hadn’t crossed into their territory yet, the cabin of the car was starting to become uncomfortable. The only form of cooling within the confines was the open windows and the air rushing through them. Isla had taken off her shirt, leaving her in the tight camisole she’d been wearing underneath that cut just above her midriff. The boys had stripped off their tops too, Sebastian dousing his fabric in water and putting it on his head.

Overdramatic, she’d thought at first until she became dizzy from the heat. But she had too much sisterly pettiness to copy his approach.

The ride was full of bumps and rocky patches, making it hard for Isla to find any type of rest as her leaning head ricocheted off the window more times than she’d like to admit. So much so, she swore she had a bruise on her scalp beneath her hair. Her entire body ached from the rumbling, including that nagging in her side.

At a stop they’d made at one of Callisto’s outer posts to fuel, and while most were either sleeping or hadn’t bothered to move, Isla had taken the opportunity to get out and stretch her legs, not drifting too far.

The moon had been half-full tonight. As she gazed upon it, a mix of light and darkness, she absentmindedly traced a finger over the creases of her opposite palm. Drawing out strings…fraying strings. The threads stretching and falling apart with every mile.

When Adrien had packed her bag, he’d also packed away her gown from the night of the feast—horribly, she’d noted, but that wasn’t what got to her.

The fabric still held the scent of that night. The lingering smell of the flowers from the garden, and the faintest essence of warmth, woods, spice, and everything entirely Kai, who even then knew how to get close enough to test their limits.

She’d breathed it in deep—too deep—and blossomed that dull ache in her chest again. And now, being outside under the moon, as they’d found themselves frequently, it had gotten worse.

A little bit of desperation clouding her judgment, she closed her eyes and dug for that tether. One last time, she told herself, one last time. Sought that connection. That lapse. Some peace. A comfort.

But she couldn’t find anything at the other end. No one. Just emptiness.

Just alone.

Io’s borders were under constant surveillance, the acknowledged lines stalked along by the wolves of the Imperial Guard. As the caravan was cleared and crossed into the territory, the soldiers howled, announcing the incoming travelers to the other units further inland…but also for her. The newly minted warrior.

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