Page 93 of A Warrior's Fate

They weren’t stopping.

The mountains were looming larger and larger, their shadow blocking them from even the moon, and yet they continued barreling forward. Heading straight towards the unforgiving surface of one.

Panic gripped Isla’s heart as she noticed Thyra and Rhydian had peeled away. Nowhere in sight. Had they escorted them to a head-on crash? Had Lavan passed out at the wheel?

Before a scream could rip from her throat, it felt like her stomach bottomed out, and they were quickly entrenched in darkness. It was as if the world had been swallowed up, save small flecks of luminescent crystal in the tunnel walls and faint domes of light that Isla couldn’t tell the source of. They were in a tunnel within the mountain, or rather, with how steep the decline was that they were driving along, a little beneath it. She hadn’t been able to see the passageway from where she’d been sitting, especially in the dark.

A stillness overtook the caravan as they took in what was around them. No one spoke, but Isla knew what they all were thinking. This was not the entrance they’d prepared for in their briefings. But Eli didn’t appear bothered as the midnight road seemed to go on forever. Down forever. She was convinced they’d accidentally found the straits down to hell. But then, finally, there was a lift. And they chugged higher. And higher. And higher. And then light spilled through. And—

Isla swore she must’ve died in the tunnel because what she beheld felt like a dream.

Each of the warriors let out some sort of astonished noise—a whistle here, a mutter of profanity there.

Isla wasn’t sure where to look.

If the Goddess had taken part in forging a city—with the way the mountains cradled the landscape, like a pair of hands in an offer to the world, and with how moonlight seemed to kiss every inch of the streets—it had to be Mavec. Isla was convinced. None of the photos she’d seen in books and papers, all blacks and whites and grays, did the city justice.

Because they didn’t capture the faintest glow of crystals, also apparent here as in the tunnel, splattered amongst the roadways and cobblestone sidewalks like fallen stars. They didn’t catch the warm and inviting lights emitting from the endless storefronts and shops and restaurants. Didn’t capture the rich smells of food and spices and pastries. They didn’t capture people—all the people, so many people—dressed to the nines and flocking somewhere Isla suddenly wanted to be if it meant being as happy as they seemed. Maybe Ezekiel, Ameera, and Sol were anomalies.

Isla trailed her eyes upwards, finding Mavec was built over hills like those of Ifera, the gentle rises not covered in endless grass but more stone and sprawling homes and city houses. All of it eventually led to what was the crown city’s biggest jewel—the Pack Hall. There wasn’t a point from the streets where one couldn’t see the building which almost looked to absorb the lunar glow, especially through the massive stained-glass window in the center of its largest tower. It could’ve easily been the moon itself with how, from below, it was as if the hall dwelled amongst the night sky. She could only imagine the view from up there.

Kai’s view.

This was his home. His kingdom, his pack. The place that had made him who he was.

Beautiful and suffocating, he’d described it as.

Isla only saw the first.

The hotel that the warriors would be staying at for the next week sat a little further up and away from the ruckus of the lower part of the city. Fortunately, the building had been set in a way that Isla could still see the soft crystal glow of the city like a sea of stars beside an actual body of water she hadn’t noticed flowing out.

“The river will take you to Abalys,” the woman at the front desk—Davina, as she’d previously been introduced—was explaining as she got together all Isla needed to get into her room. “We call it the town on the water.”

Abalys.

Kai had mentioned Abalys. Particularly where not to get involved in Abalys.

At the thought of her mate, Isla glanced to the open window far off at the edge of the hotel lobby. Through it, she could see the western end of the Pack Hall. It seemed like some sort of light was on. For the first time in a long while, she brought one hand to the other and ran her thumb over her palm. She felt nothing being here. At least, nothing to do with the bond. If anything, the city seemed to be beckoning her down to explore it.

“And here you go.” Davina placed a stack onto the counter, calling back Isla’s attention. “Your room number, key, some maps and brochures, my own personal recommendations, and some light reading.”

Light reading.

Isla snickered at the newspaper Davina had placed on the table that bore her mate’s face on the cover. Alpha of a New Age, the title of the editorial read. How Alpha Kai Plans to Honor Father’s Legacy and Build One of His Own.

Isla had absentmindedly raised her hand to run over the paper’s surface when Davina’s words brought her to her senses.

“He’s a handsome one, isn’t he?” the woman cooed, flipping her long hair, the color of brass that matched the dots splashed over her cheeks, over her shoulder. “I swear every unmated girl in this pack is tripping over themselves to get in his eye-line and catch his attention. Maybe get that magic spark.”

Isla snorted and ignored the inkling of possessiveness—or what she refused to call jealousy—that had begun rearing its head. Magic spark…

“I wouldn’t call it a spark. It’s more like an inferno,” she offered off-handedly.

Davina cocked her head. “You’re mated?”

Oops.

“Oh, uh, no,” Isla said. “I—I’d just heard that’s what it’s like.”

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