Page 67 of Elysian

“It has been so long,” I whispered. Cassiel squeezed my waist where he balanced me during the ride.

Tall stalks rose from the ground, thick enough to hide threats. Southern Sycarious’ most prized trading item. This sort of stalk could only grow from this part of the realm’s soil. The dry heat, the low humidity, the rains that came less than a handful of times an annum—all of it created the perfect conditions.

Southern Sycarious villages were known to cultivate bales. Not only was it feed for livestock, it could also feed hearths and forges.

I shifted again in my seat to readjust my weight.

“You need to rest.” His hand on my waist tucked around my chest and he pressed me back. His strength did not allow me anything other than to sink against him.

I huffed, shoving his arm.

“There are only so many positions I can sleep against you. I am forming a knot in my neck.” It had to be almost a fortnight of relentless riding, and there had seldom been a stop.

Which was possible because there was no need for me to relieve myself. Awakening had wholly changed my body. The only reason we had stopped was for Cassiel to steal fruits and bread for me. Another change was how hunger pangs affected me. It was a dull sensation that began with a seed of exhaustion. When I did not eat, the result was weakness. In my limbs, in my thoughts, every inch of me became sluggish.

“We will be arriving soon,” he intoned.

“Where?” I blurted. “We should be searching for the Resistance. We need help⁠—”

“No,” he said succinctly, brooking no argument.

“But—”

“Amara,” he gritted out. “We will discuss the Resistance,” he spat it out, “at a later time. For now, we will go somewhere safe for us to gather strength and bathe.”

I stewed in silence. Arguing over it would lead us nowhere, and with his immovable composure, he would not be convinced . . . Despite that, a bath sounded lovely. Warm, lapping water to sink into.

‘You trembled. Are you cold?’ his voice invaded my mind.

The intimate sound of him in my head startled me, poking at the scabbed over anger I’d managed to stifle. Since the argument beside the Hollow corpse, there had been no mention of it again. I churned over the thought that he had just decided I would remain with him.

I will live with it. As long as I have you by my side.

That was what he’d said with such arrogance. As if it were a given. And I could not even argue the contrary. Not when he’d become my wraithling. He’d cleaved himself unto me with the assurance of my existence.

For if I turned him away, I would be drawn to his side before the moon rotation completed.

A truth must be acknowledged: I was forever tied to him.

I had festered over the reality for various dawnlight rotations.

That sat in my belly like a heap of lead, stamping out the bloom in my stomach. Of course he had such assurance in his position in my life. I straightened my spine to move away from him.

‘Why have you stiffened?’

Always such concern from him! I bristled.

“Please cease speaking in my mind when there is no necessity.” My tone came out sharp.

There was only silence and stillness from Cassiel. His hand flexed around the reins. The edges of the leather strap touched my leg.

“You are angry?”

I bit back my scoff and remained silent. This was his question?

Cassiel tugged the reins to the right, taking an almost invisible pathway through overgrown straw. He didn’t utter another word about my comment, continuing through the stalks.

I slapped the overgrown crop from my face, sputtering as I repeatedly blinked to clear my eyes. Cassiel’s arm moved before me, shielding me from the dried wheat. I took his aid and dropped my forehead against his arm to protect my face from being slapped about. The scrapes and smacks ceased, and Cassiel dropped his arm. We broke through the side view of an estate. Decently sized and stretching into two floors. The stone structure hosted various windows lined with slim pieces of iron. Moss overgrew along the bricks, stretching upward where they thinned.