Page 171 of Of Iron and Moonlight

The lead Norrelian stepped forward, and his irises kindled to a glow. A cool pressure bloomed at the edges of her thoughts. Not forceful—more like a probing touch, testing for weakness. The sensation slid across her consciousness with a chill that stiffened her spine.

Then it slipped away, failing to gain purchase.

“Rise,” the guard commanded.

Gavriel flinched but stood without protest. His muscles relaxed. His eyes went vacant as his will was dragged beneath the surface by something he could not withstand.

Elara flicked her gaze, just for an instant, to the iron ring on her finger, and understood. But it did not seem like the moment to resist. Not if it meant exposing them both. She rose with the same hollow obedience, letting her shoulders slacken and her eyes dull.

“Follow me.”

Gavriel began walking with that distant, emptied stare that made her chest ache and her blood heat. But she followed half a pace behind him, her limbs moving in careful imitation.

They were led through a narrow corridor of the same wing, up two flights of stairs, the air growing colder as they climbed, then ushered into a cell block far cleaner than the ones they had seen before. The floors were swept. The bars bore no gouges from desperate hands.

Fresh captives, Elara thought grimly. At least not yet bound for experiments.

Gavriel was shoved into one cell. Elara into the next. She kept her eyes lowered, but tracked the guards’ footfalls from the corners of her vision. They made a few rounds, inspecting the surrounding humans, then their steps receded down the corridor and beyond the door.

The instant the compulsion loosened, Gavriel collapsed. He crumpled to the floor as if his bones had dissolved, curling in on himself, hands clamped over his head. Sobs tore out of him without restraint. “I am nobody,” he choked. “I am nobody.”

Elara fell to her knees and reached through the bars, but he was too far away. “Hold on,” she pleaded, pressing her forehead to the cold metal. “Please. Hold on, Gavriel.”

A suffocating hush settled thickly over Celestine Isle as the alarm bells that had been blaring came to a sudden stop.

Chapter 80

Duncan

There was no shouting or drunken celebration in Grayhollyn, where men who had counted the days to home now folded tents and packed bedrolls with eager hands. Only that strange, sober easing that comes when something brutal has finally run its course. Duncan took it in with cautious relief as he crossed toward the makeshift stables.

His mare lifted her head as he approached, breath clouding in the late autumn chill. He ran a hand down the horse’s neck, feeling for soreness, smoothing the coarse hair beneath his palm. He lifted each hoof, checked for stones, adjusted the saddle, tightened the girth. The motions required no thought. They belonged to a version of him older than titles and rank.

Bootsteps sounded behind him, familiar even before he turned.

“All settled?” Duncan asked.

“Bran and Ronnie are dismantling the satellite camps around Alewyn and Trivolen,” Isander replied. “Osric will see Grayhollyn reduced within weeks. Garric is securing the roads and leaving patrols in the villages in case Kryovarre starts feeling bold again.” He drew a slow breath. “By the end of next month, all of our men should be home.”

Duncan looked up. “So it’s truly finished.”

“Kryovarre will stir trouble again, no doubt,” Isander said with a soft exhale. “But for this year, we can breathe.” Then, after a brief pause, “Do you still intend to ride tonight?”

“Yes.” Duncan studied him, his chest tightening. Bandages wrapped his arms and shoulders beneath his cloak. “Are you certain you’re fit to ride?”

“I refuse to stay here a moment longer,” Isander said, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Where are you heading?”

The question drawled from the far corner of the stables.

Duncan straightened. Isander stiffened, then winced as his hand reached for the hilt at his hip, the movement pulling at his healing shoulders.

Merrick leaned against a support post, wearing that crooked grin. “If I meant harm, you’d know it too late,” he said lightly, putting both hands in the air. “Though truly, the two of you should be more attentive to your surroundings.”

Duncan exhaled through his nose. “Vaelstrom.”

“Then I’ll join you,” Merrick replied, pushing off the post. “I have business there.”