Page 121 of Aryn

Cato gasps my name as he elbows me. I grin and nudge Nymir into a slow walk, the gentle sway of her gait rocking us together. I keep one arm looped around his waist while my other hand holds the reins.

“We’ll ride together on the journey, so you need to get used to how it feels.” I press a slow kiss just below his ear. “Relax into me. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Cato shivers. “You’re cheating.”

I nip at his earlobe. “Am I? You’re the one squirming in my lap, kitten.”

He lets out a flustered laugh that shifts into a groan when I kiss down the side of his neck. “I can’t believe I’m actually saying this out loud, but we can’t spend the entire trip like this.”

“Why not?”

“I’d show you,” he hisses, “but we’re in public.”

“No one’s watching,” I argue, nipping at him again before I exhale. “Though I suppose you’re right. We shouldn’t condition our bodies to react to riding, or the others might see more than they asked for.”

He chuckles, his hand tightening on my thigh as he leans his weight back into me. “Thanks for this.”

I press another kiss to the back of his neck. “It’s the least I could do, since you won’t let me use the healing salve.” He throws his head back and laughs from deep in his belly. Nymir doesn’t flinch. She simply carries us along, steady and untroubled.

Cato

There’s something bittersweet about leaving the comfort of Maelithryne. After experiencing this world in a series of near-disasters, it makes sense we feel safe here. We’re sleeping in a warm bed, with fresh food and good company. It’s not a surprise we’re comfortable behind these walls.

What surprises me is how quickly it felt like home.

I’d almost forgotten the worlds were still burning outside the gates. I could just sit back in safety and pretend none of it was happening. After a lifetime of wanting to leave, suddenly I desperately want to stay.

Stay hidden and away from danger, stay complacent, as long as it means staying with him.

But time doesn’t wait for my complicated feelings.

We leave at first light, moving through the gates under a steady fall of snow. Our original group has grown, adding Brihn and six of his trusted warriors—mostly Dreven, plus one stony-faced Ramves. The sylvaren carry us steadily, unbothered by the drifting flakes.

I’m not sure exactly who he sweet-talked or what he said, but Aryn convinced someone to allow us to ride Nymir so I’d be more comfortable. It shouldn’t feel like such a grand gesture, but it does. Her shoulders roll beneath us as his arms circle my waist and his chest pressed against my back. His body heat cuts through the biting cold, and his presence steadies me more than I want to admit. When we reach the narrow stone stairs, I lean back into him harder, fighting the urge to close my eyes. The dizzying drop of the trail below brings back too many memories I’ve tried to forget.

“It’s alright,” he murmurs against my ear. “They’ve been doing this for a lifetime.”

“If you say so,” I mutter back.

Even after yesterday’s riding lesson, the rolling gait beneath me is foreign and a little terrifying. Sylvaren are bigger than horses and damn near fill the entire path when we move single file, though their strange split hooves seem to grip the terrain without much trouble.

A covered wagon waits for us at the base of the stairs, loaded with furs, clean water, and the rest of our supplies. Brihn trots over on his mount and assesses the group. “We’ll rotate time in the wagon. Two of your crew and two of mine can rest while the others ride. It’ll keep everyone fresh and prevent us from stopping to make camp on the road.”

“We’ll go first,” Cameron answers immediately.

“We will not,” Ronan cuts in, sounding outraged. “I’m not riding in the wagon like a child who’s grown too tired to play.”

“Suit yourself, big guy,” Cameron says as he slinks over the back and curls into the furs. “Pride gets you nowhere but tired later.”

Brihn chuckles while two of his guards climb in after Cameron, clearly amused by the exchange. “It is your choice,” Brihn says with a respectful nod. “But you will grow tired, eventually.”

Ronan grumbles as Cameron smiles at him from his cozy nest. Stubbornness wins out, and Ronan stays mounted, though he rides close to the wagon. Lillith and Taryn are together on a massive gelding, while the rest of the warriors ride solo and flank the group.

We descend into a deep valley path between jagged mountain peaks. The scenery is breathtaking in its own harsh way. Towering stone walls rise on either side, carved by wind and time into sharp ridges and shadowed crevices. In the distance, the river winds along, cutting through banks of snow and ice.

Brihn rides up beside us. “It’s about time you get to see Elyra properly, and not half-starved while being hunted.”

“Things have changed so much since I was last here,” Aryn says. “The cold has really done a number on this place. It seems like every village we’ve passed has been long abandoned.”