Page 52 of On Burning Paths

Her heart is skipping now. I press my lips together and shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. You’re afraid now. And you won’t be able to stop yourself from being afraid when the grath come.”

Of what we’ve encountered, this is the only trial I won’t be able to protect her, and the others, through. There’s no way they can keep themselves from being afraid.

“Fuck,” Fenric mutters, plunging his hands into his hair. He seems to understand what I’m thinking. The same thing that got Nyx through the Ashen is what will bring her down here. She feels so much all the time, with no apparent way to turn it off.

Fenric, Talon, and I are capable of muting that fear. Fenric and Talon won’t be able to completely erase it though. I think I’m the only one capable of that. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve been genuinely terrified since the night my mother died. After an experience like that, you learn to numb everything else.

Nyx takes a deep breath, fear oozing out of her. She’s pale. Almost unsteady on her feet. And they’re not even here yet.

My instant reaction is to reach out and stroke her face. “We’ll think of something.”

“What?” she whispers.

I don’t know, but I know I will. It’s only one night. We can survive one night.

The truth is, I've fallen for her. I'm in love with this human woman, and I have no idea when it happened or how to undo it, and I find that I don't want to.

Before, my only motivation was the godhood. My revenge. It was clean. Simple. A straight line from here to the end, and nothing on either side of it worth protecting.

But now I can see beyond it all. Beyond the revenge, the Trials, everything I've spent years building my life around. And what I see is her. The curve of her hip, the quirk of her smile, the way she does the right thing even when it terrifies her, even when it costs her something.

She cannot die tonight.

It's not worry I feel when I look at her now. It's calculation. The same cold, focused thing that takes over before a fight, before a decision that has to be made and made correctly. She cannot die, which means I need to think. I need to find a solution, work out every angle, close every gap between her and whatever is coming.

I will not lose her. I just need to figure out how to make certain of it.

"Did you all get lost?" Talon asks, appearing at the entrance to the cave. Then his eyes flick up, past us, and widen, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Bloodmoon."

His face, already pale, falls a shade paler. So, he knows. Perhaps the vampires teach more thoroughly about the lore.

Talon’s gaze darts to Nyx, who stands with her arms wrapped around herself. “What should we do?”

“Let’s make camp,” I say, trying to keep my voice level even as adrenaline courses through me. “Set ourselves up for a defense.”

And so we do, dragging in materials to make a fire. We build traps and sharpen sticks. Fenric disappears and returns with a bounty of foragings for us, arranging it lovingly on the stone floor, like a sacrifice at the altar of what is about to come.

Nyx helps everywhere, flitting from one of us to the next, making sure we have any help we need to be prepared for this next challenge. I sense her nerves, but no one draws attention to it. We’re all nervous in our own ways.

Red light cuts through the faint hole far above our little stronghold. I would consider it a weakness in our defenses, except that it’s small enough that most beasts won’t fit through it.

“Do you think we’ll be able to fight them off?” Nyx asks, and the three of us startle out of our tasks, turning to look at her. She’s paused in her task, her braid rough and frizzy, her eyes wide and clear.

The answer is simple. No. No I do not.

Again, I’m faced with the decision of whether or not to lie to her. I choose to be honest. “I’ve never managed to keep my team members alive through this trial.”

I expect her to cry, to make some noise of terror, but she just nods, sucking in a breath as she sits down beside the stack of firewood. Though she’s doing her best, I can see her fingers trembling when she laces them together.

“Talon and I may survive,” I admit, glancing at the vampire, who leans against the wall with one heel pressed flat against it. “But you and the berserker…”

“Name’s Fenric, in case you forgot,” Fenric jokes, his laugh coming out a little too sharp as he takes a seat next to Nyx. Slowly, he reaches over and laces her fingers through his.

“I did not,” I say, clenching my jaw. Any minute now, the beasts will slither out of their holes and start the hunt, and I can’t stand the reality that Fenric and Nyx will be at the epicenter of their pursuit.

The only saving grace is that this trial might just take out those warlocks, too.

“They’ll sense your fear.” I force myself to be blunt as I look at the two of them. “They’re going to come straight for you.”