Chapter 41: Forty One

Chapter 41: Forty One

Valka

During a bloody war, you learn a couple of things. The battle isn’t always to the strongest, swiftest or smartest. Sometimes, the weakest make it out alive, not because they’re lucky.

There’s no such thing on the battle field. They make it out alive because they understand that they are no match for the enemy and have a stronger sense of self preservation that places them in a constant flight mode.

The strong are used to fighting, getting beaten and rising again, even if it means dying. Admirable, yes. Wise? No.

Because if you thought about it deeply, the ones who survive in the end are the ones who know when to retreat.

"Remember, Valka," Lucien had said last night. "There is no shame in running from an enemy you cannot beat. Forget about winning and focus solely on surviving."

I’d bristled with indignation, thinking it an insult at the time. But after seeing Lilith take off the head of another Lycan without even trying, that too, with an ordinary steel blade, I realized he was right.

I am not just out of my element here. I am prey.

Still, as I dash for the woods, careening past Zyra’s body frozen with fear, I hesitate. I don’t know why I do it, but I grab at her wrist and tug her along with me.

"Stay close to me!" I yell at her as I hear her breaths come in quickly in a full blown panic. "Don’t look--"

I feel that phantom touch on my shoulder, almost like a push, before I hear the sharp twang of a bow string. My head snaps back and it feels like déjà vu.

Zyra Duskharrow’s brown gaze locks with mine for one frozen moment as my lips part on a desperate warning. Look out

Her eyes are still fixed on mine when the arrow pierces through her throat. tears it open and flies directly for my head at an obscene angle, a move I’d seen on the battlefield before. The same shot Lucien had used to take out dozens of men, Lilith has released to kill me, taking Zyra down in the process.

Something slams into my shoulder, quick as lightning, hard as a boulder. My hand rips from a dead Zyra’s, and I crash into the ground with a hard cry.

"ON YOUR FEET!" The voice is a snarl. A heavy grip seizes my collar and hauls me upright, twisting us both aside just as two more arrows scream past where our heads had been.

My gaze meets light blue ones. Princess Evadne. She’s pressed to me, breath hot and fast. "My shit-head cousin compelled me to look after you. Miserable son of a cunt," she spits, fingers digging into my leather until I feel bone. "Head for the treeline and don’t stop until you hit cover." When I don’t move immediately, she kicks me in the ass. "Move!"

Then, we’re running.

A part of me wants to look back at the woman I was trying to save, at source of the new blood curdling screams echoing through out the forest, but I know turning around won’t make a difference. It’ll only get me dead. I can’t help them. How can I, when I can’t even help myself right now?

For what feels like hours, we flee, ducking under tree branches and fallen logs of wood, my boots slamming into mud and snow. Even after the sound of screaming fades, we do not stop. Eventually, the adrenaline fueling my blood stutters and my muscles begin aching from exertion.

"Where are we going?" I pant, halting by a barren fig tree, hand braced against the bark.

Every now and then, noise swells from outside the arena, echoing name after name, the most popular currently being, Lilith, Soraya, Altheira, and Morrigan.

Evadne crouches flexibly, bringing her hand to the earth beneath her and closing her eyes. She takes a deep inhale, brows furrowing in deep concentration as her fist closes around snow and dust. "What they don’t mention, is that there are four caves to each direction. North, West, East and South. They’re the only shelter made available and it takes more than half a day’s walk to reach the closest one. There are more dangerous things in these mountains than those godless heathens. You do not want to be out by dusk. We must make haste and continue West."

Sucking in a deep breath, I croak, "I just... need a minute." When I can breathe again without feeling like my chest is about to implode, I say, "Why did she target us?"

Evadne scowls, her blue eyes sparking with annoyance. "Not me. You. And Zyra, gods bless her soul. It is normal to weed out the weaklings first, before going for much larger prey."

I blink--once--and suddenly she’s right there. Breath mingling with mine. Too close. My instinct is to recoil, but she hooks her fingers in my hair, tilts my head, and drags in a slow inhale at my throat.

I go very still. "Uh... what are you doing?"

"You smell different, you know?" Evadne murmurs, lips ghosting the frantic beat of my pulse. "It is odd, yet enticing. Alluring on a good day, but disastrous on a day like this."

"Why?"

Her mouth curves against my skin. "Because the entire arena can smell the wolf in your blood from miles away. Like the finest perfume to a hunter chasing prey." Her body heat rolls off in waves, peppering my skin against the chill in the air. "That, and you reek of Lucien."

Because he marked me. Without consent. That has to be a crime somewhere in the world, no?

Heat creeps into my cheeks and I fall back a step. She lets go of my hair, but not without running her fingers along the strands, gaze hooded with interest.

"Are you two fucking?" she asks, too casually.

"No," I snap, maybe too fast, and I’m pretty sure I have a full body blush on now, which is ironic, considering how much danger I’m currently in.

Evadne tsks softly. "Pity. When we were younger, whenever Luke pissed me off, I’d steal his newest lover, knowing he wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole if he knew I’d tasted her. A wicked smile. "He returned the favor, of course. They never came back to my bed, as you can imagine."

I could imagine. And I wished I couldn’t. But I could totally envision it. Here, in the middle of the damned forest, I am thinking of what I saw last night. The beautiful horror of that man’s body. But then... the rest of her words register and I gape at the woman.

"You’re joking," I say, because what else am I supposed to say to that?

"Not even a little," she purrs. "And now here you are. Mysterious. Marked by a man who barely cares to wash the blood of the dead off his hands before eating breakfast. A man who doesn’t have a single care left in this world. It’s made me curious. Why he’d mark you. Why he’d go out of his way to see you protected. Makes me wonder if you’d be worth the trouble."

My brain momentarily bluescreens. "I... what?"

An explosion roars somewhere behind and another uproar rises outside.

Evadne pulls away from me, body tensing as her eyes scan the trees. "Come on. We need to move."

***

By the time we reach the Western cave, the sun is gone from the skies and the air has grown colder by tenfold. I’m shivering, teeth clattering as I hobble against the scabby walls, rubbing my fists together.

Evadne seems unperturbed, reaching back to pull off her green leather. "We must switch clothing, Lyra. We’re around the same size. It should be a close fit."

I try not to cringe at the name. "Why?"

"Mingling our scents." She flashes her teeth in a little smile. I’ve noticed that comes to her easily. Smiling. It almost makes her seem human and less predatory. "I’ll draw them away on a different trail. If we’re lucky, they’ll chase me straight into Morrigan’s lap, and they’ll kill each other before dawn."

Fidgeting, I reach for the buttons around my neck. "This won’t put a target on your back?" After Bryn, I don’t think I can handle anyone else dying on my behalf. I still haven’t fully processed Zyra’s death. I didn’t know her but it weighs heavy on me. The thought that if I hadn’t taken her wrist and put her directly in the way, she wouldn’t have been shot down.

Evadne arches a dark brow like I’ve made an absurd claim and she moves towards me in a slow prowl. The moonlight catches in her blue eyes and falls over her pale skin like starlight. "Are you worried for me, wolf?"

"Not really," I mutter when I see that keeness in her eyes. She’s flirting with me again, and gods, if had been into it, I might have folded like a piece of parchment. She may look nothing like Lucien, with her raven black hair and strange blue eyes, but it didn’t make her beauty any less lethal. Or the intense sex appeal that rolls off her.

She chuckles, pushing her clothes into my hands. "I quite like you, Lyra. If you won’t be my lover, then let’s be friends." Her pointed ear twitches and she looks beyond the cave to the forest outside, cocking her head at something I can’t see. "I’m going to need some of your blood as well."

I don’t ask anymore questions, stripping tensely, while ignoring the way her eyes drill holes into me. We switch clothes, and as I done hers, I notice that clean, earthy scent that all Lycans have lingering to her clothes, so different from mine.

"If I’m not back by dawn, I won’t be back at all," she says. "Stay here."

"I’m not some coward who sits around, waiting to die--"

Evadne’s twin blades slices through the air as she sheaths them, and her blue eyes are as cold as the wind outside. "I didn’t think you were. But don’t confuse dying for sport with dying for something that matters. This isn’t glory. It’s survival. No one out there gives a damn about your heroics. Don’t waste the advantage I’m buying you."

She snatches my wrist and makes a cut on the inside of my palm, dunking the blood with a piece of cloth before the wound heals."Stay alert. Don’t close your eyes."

And in the blink of an eye, she is gone, leaving me in the dark cave. I suck in an angry breath, pacing the length of the cave until I wear holes into the ground. Sitting still while someone else risks their life for me is unbearable.

Every second drags, the cold gnawing through leather and skin, digging into bone. My limbs tremble, not from fear, not entirely. Just exhaustion.

Eventually, I slide down the wall, eyes fixed on the cave mouth, blade resting across my knees.

I don’t remember them closing. But when they do, I don’t fall into Ilya’s past. Or Lucien’s thoughts.

No.

I plummet straight into something worse.

Into Rafael Draemir’s mind.