Page 199 of The Edge of Darkness

THE DAWN OF DEATH

It could be any day now. Lyceius could descend upon the realm at any point and lay waste to it if we weren’t ready.

Our scouts had accurately estimated timeframes in previous wars based on our enemy’s movements. But Lyceius had been gathering forces within Salterra for a while now, and with him summoning Auren through her dream, and making the statement of “putting an end to this before it begins”—as Auren claimed he had said—we all had a feeling that war was much closer than we would like it to be.

Which was why I was making the quick trip to Drastia, under the guise of “discussing battle tactics with Laurent,” to commission the creation of the decoy amulet Eathril had suggested. No one knew about the idea, aside from Aremis. I hadn’t mentioned it to anyone else, because if it came down to me having to use it, I wanted everyone’s reactions to be of genuine shock and protest. It would be more believable that way, and there was a greater chance that Skadi would take the bait and not question it.

Laurent was the only other exception. I’d have to spring it upon him while I was there, but I didn’t anticipate it to be any sort of inconvenience. He was always one to accommodate new endeavors, especially secret ones. That, and he’d probably sense I was there for another reason the moment I arrived. His acute intuition was rivaled only by Aremis, and he had a way with sniffing out the things that were left unspoken. In fact, I was pretty sure he knew he’d met the one the prophecy spoke of the moment he met Auren.

Auren had stayed behind in Calledan, offering to help Maeson go into the city and stock up on ingredients for the healers in anticipation for what was to come, which had given me my chance to slip away to the arctic for a few hours.

The same six wolves that always stood watch over Drastia’s gate escorted me across the frozen ice until my feet were on solid ground. I ruffled the fur on each of their heads with my fist before tearing through space to the glacial castle.

No sooner had I materialized than the grand, icy doors before me swung open, revealing Senna and an entourage of chatty females behind her. She froze mid-step when she spotted me, completely caught off guard.

“Oh! Niall! What a pleasant surprise! Laurent didn’t mention you would be here today.”

“A last minute meeting.” I inclined my head toward her. “Nothing of too much importance.”

“Did Auren come with you? I’m heading out with my ladies to a festival in town. She is more than welcome to join while you have your meeting.”

“She did not, but I will let her know she was missed.”

“Please do. She is always welcome here, as are you. Feel free to show yourself inside.” With that, she dipped her chin and led the group to a carriage that was waiting for them.

Once inside, I found Laurent striding down the hallway toward me. At his side, laughing in conversation, was another male who struck me as familiar. As he drew closer, I recognized him.

I blinked, confused.

Breck?

“Just in time,” Laurent called out. “Did you catch Senna on the way out?”

“I did . . .” I glanced at Breck, who, oddly, seemed like he was here willingly and not on business—judging by his casual dress and relaxed expression. “She inquired about Auren,” I added, clearing my throat.

“As she always does.” Laurent grinned. “Which, by the way, is quite the compliment. She’s terribly picky with the company she keeps.”

“I’m sure Auren will be thrilled to know,” I said, still staring at Breck and wondering what the hell he was doing here.

I felt Laurent’s eyes on me, assessing, the way he always did when he was searching for the unknown, undisclosed bits that lingered in the dark. “There’s a reason you didn’t bring her.”

I gave him a nod. “Best spoken of in private.”

“Ah, yes.” He put a hand on Breck’s shoulder. “Breck has been here since your mating ceremony. I’d say we’ve developed a liking for each other’s company.”

I lifted a brow. “Enjoying a break from the warmer climate?”

Breck shrugged, but it wasn’t a careless movement in the slightest. “Considering I’ve branded myself an enemy of Elandrew, this climate is better than death.”

Laurent huffed a laugh. “Oh don’t be dramatic. Killian wouldn’t⁠—”

“Oh, he would,” I said in Breck’s defense. “But why here, of all the territories? No offense, Laurent.”

“None taken.” He turned to Breck, brows pinching in question. “Yes, why here? We never quite got around to discussing that piece of it.”

“Because Vahrenhall is too close for comfort, and Calledan . . .” He clenched his jaw. “I didn’t want to be a burden. Not with you and Auren having just been mated.”

I studied him, the pain that was lingering in his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he made the right call by standing up against his cousin—it had cost him his place in his court. Any male would feel the sting of that against their pride, especially if they had to flee to another’s territory to seek refuge.