Page 215 of Season Warriors & Wolves

His stupid smile grew ridiculous. “They have. Long ago. When I was fifteen and the girl with silk black hair made me swear I would wait on her.”

“Thank you for staying a brunet for me,” I said, tussling his wavy wet locks. “I really don’t like blonds.”

The whole cave echoed my squeals when he threw me over his shoulder.

The sound of the crackling wood and the chitters of night were lulling. Even the heavy noises of the camp around us suddenly sounded majestic. It didn’t help that I was tucked in Kilian’s embrace, braced by his body heat, staring up at the clear night skies and the thin crescent moon, feeling bone tired and so, so adored.

Not once had he stopped murmuring gentle words in my ear the whole time he held me there, swaying us.

Sleep came softly. But the dreams did not.

Dreams I’d dreamt of before. More vivid and detailed than before.

Vast white emptiness.

The little white-haired girl in the forest beyond the portal was staring back at me again. Black eyes widening. The whisper of death calling again. All flashed so quickly before I was thrust inside the same vision I’d seen back in Seraphim. Chaos. Flame and ashes stained with blood. Burned bodies covered by snow littered around me. Desperate calls carrying my name screamed in the distance, they were voices I knew so well.

Everything was the same.

Except.

This time I saw who pushed the blade through my chest, almost felt it, even. In the middle of it all, I stood there, bleeding and surrounded by white fire, feathers scattered everywhere, burning and charring, spreading with the northern cold wind. The guardian did not lay dead. Nor defeated.

A pale hand wrapped around the hilt, belonging to the woman with pearlescent white flaming hair and the darkest, deepest eyes I’d ever stared into. Aurora tilted her head to the side, her massive white wings folding back. “You can see me.”

I jerked awake, words and air robbed out of me, heaving from pain and the burning sensation dressing my skin.

I didn’t need to see to know who had just pressed his forehead to mine, slowly rocking us back and forth and murmuring repeatedly, “Come back to me.”

Her words were still whispering in my ear, blocking the call of comfort of my husband’s voice.

But he didn’t stop. Not even for a breath. Calling until I heard nothing else but him.

“She’s awake, Kil. Aurora is awake.” My fingers trembled when I tried to lift them up to see if I had truly bled. And I had, but from much smaller wounds only deep enough to remind me of pain. “I’m sorry. So sorry. I didn’t mean—”

He held my hands, bringing them to his chest that was beating furiously. “It’s alright. You’re alright. You’re alright,” he repeated more to himself than me.

Over Kilian’s shoulder, Golgotha had narrowed his eyes on me from the distance of the forest. Confused, he stepped closer and closer, frowning and coming to a halt when I grinned.

I breathed in the man holding me. “Call Visha for me, darling, please.”

And so he did.

The moment Kilian and Visha had left, Golgotha took a seat on the fire next to me while I tried to drink the herby tea Nia had made for my headache.

“Born a villain,” he said, carving a piece of wood with a knife. “Will die a hero. The history books will love you.”

“Look around,” I said. “What hero would take all those they love to battle? A hero would have died alone. I’m no hero. No martyr.”

“You will be a hero.”

“I’ll make sure to graze a couple of soldiers on my way out. Make sure that bright light is not shone on my character as well as my deeds.”

He laughed harshly and then narrowed his eyes at the dark distance ahead. “You summoned her on purpose, didn’t you, in your vision?”

“Did I?” I asked, slurping my tea a bit loudly.

“And then you let the witch enter your head after the vision.”