Page 14 of The Cost of Blood and Bonds

A year from now, Finn and I walk through that archway and into the Weeping Woods. Miles of forest sealed behind the stone wall. With nothing but steel between us and whatever waits on the other side. The thought settles heavy in my chest, uninvited, and I push it down and keep moving.

The city shifts as we follow the wall north, houses growing tighter and less polished. The outskirts are the kind of place where no one pretends to be something they’re not, and it’s more alive for it.

Hayes loosens the farther we go, his posture finally matching ours. Finn’s already scanning ahead, zeroed in on noise and light like he can pick his favorite trouble from a distance. He’s easy to track in a crowd, with black hair and warm brown skin you don’t see much in Terrath.

I grin and keep moving. I know exactly where we’re headed.

The Mossy Barrel comes into view, noise pouring out into the street as a couple staggers out. I can already smell the ale and roasted meat.

We head for the door, but a hand shoots out, stopping us.

“Masks are required tonight, lads,” the doorman says, waving toward a vendor stationed just outside. The old man’s cart is loaded with masks with all the common shifter forms. “Boss’s orders. It’s costume night for the trial season.”

I glance at the others.

Finn’s already grinning. “Who’s gonna be a housecat?”

That gets all of us. We move to the cart, and I grab a wolf mask. It’s sleek, predatory, and fits my mood perfectly tonight.

Grier picks up a bear mask, lifting it with a raised eyebrow.

“Suits you,” I say.

He gives me a rare smile.

Finn grabs a stag mask, antlers and all, shoves it over his face, and steps beside Hayes with a shit-eating grin. “I make this look way better than you do.”

Hayes shoves him, grinning. “Careful. Someone’s going to think we’re related.”

“You look like an idiot,” I say with a snort at the ridiculous antlers.

Finn ties the mask on. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Ladies love antlers.”

Hayes rolls his eyes, still laughing, finally giving in to the night, and picks up a dog mask.

“Loyal and obedient,” Finn says smugly. “How fitting.”

“All right, boys,” I say, slapping the coins down for our masks. “First round’s on Grier.”

“Pretty sure you two are the ones with the royal coffers,” Grier says dryly.

“Not tonight, we’re not,” I shoot back. “Tonight, we’re just some dashingly handsome guards.”

Grier chuckles as I push inside, the bell over the door lost in the roar of music and voices.

Heat rolls over me, the air thick with ale and sweat. The Mossy Barrel is alive tonight, with tables nearly full, bodies packed three-deep at the bar trying to get their next round.

“Grier, you really are going to need to get the first round,” I say. “You’re the only one big enough to cut through that mess.”

Grier smirks and moves to the bar, bodies parting for him.

Finn is already leading us toward the last open booth tucked in the back corner. Hayes and I slide in. It has a good view, I can see the whole room from here.

Grier comes back a few minutes later with four mugs.

I wrap my hand around mine, moving to take a swig⁠—

“Wait, wait, wait!” Finn’s up before any of us can drink, mug raised like he’s about to give a speech in the damn throne room. “A toast!”