Page 56 of Merciless Is My Crown

So no one said a word.

Not about what was coming. Not about what we’d left behind.

The silence was comforting, not having to talk about the witches, or the brand on my arm, or this fucked-up situation Adele had maneuvered us into so effortlessly. My mother kept her hood up over her head, but her gaze landed on me every so often, questioning…evaluating.

Probably wondering how soon I’d sit on the throne she so coveted.

And I tried not to think about that, either.

Hope had swelled inside me when I’d discovered my mother was alive. I’d coaxed a thousand fragile dreams into existence, where I had a family once this fighting was over.

Now all of those fantasies turned to ash in the wake of her ambition.

I couldn’t stop worrying about Raz and Zor, wondering what battles they fought on Darkhold, if dragons still existed. I turned my head to where Tristan rode behind us, green-gold eyes glowing with banked fire in the shadow of his hooded cloak.

We had a dragon of our own—okay, a wyvern, but pretty much the same thing—and anticipation shivered through me like the threads of fate once again wove their web around us.

Somewhere out there the Oracle searched for us.

The tunnels should have hidden us, but there were only so many places we could go, and she’d have turned her eyes to the east, toward Nightcairn Castle. From there…well, it didn’t take a genius to figure out where we’d go next.

I turned in my saddle again, questions on my lips—but Tavion shook his head.

Right. No talking.

There were no signs of Howlers, but the higher we climbed into the mountains, the more breathtaking the scenery. Every breath fogged the air, and even wrapped in the thick coat, I shivered, but the views…

We stopped on an outcropping long enough to peer down over a small, quiet valley filled with dark green pines and tumbled rocks, a fast-running river racing along the bottom, the water as green as my eyes.

Tavion caught my gaze with a bone-melting smile.

This country was almost as beautiful as him.

Untamed and certainly dangerous, but enchanting, low-lying mists slung around the sides of craggy mountains, the opalescent water in the streams cold enough to take my breath away.

Dane was unerring in his directions, leading us down a hairline path hugging the mountainside, then through a craggy pass along a stream which, he murmured softly, was usually frozen over this time of year.

We spent our first night huddled deep in a cave around Tristan’s fire, wrapped in furs and layers of clothes while Dane and Tavion took turns guarding the opening, staring out over the rock-filled crevasse. I crept closer to Tavion, crouching down beside him.

“Something occurred to me on the way here,” I said quietly. “It’s only a matter of time before the Oracle realizes we used the tunnels and ended up at Nightcairn. If she goes to the castle and finds Lucius there…”

Fear stole the rest of what I meant to say, but Tavion brushed my hand with his.

“My sire knows the risks, and before we left, Dane and I double-checked the wards. If she or any of her foul creatures cross them, Lucius has time to escape. There is an underground passageway from the kitchen that leads into the mountains.” Tavion jerked his head back toward the fire.

“Now go stay warm, wife. I cannot stand to see you shivering.”

Worry chased me into sleep, but I woke folded into Tavion’s arms and as warm as I would have been in my own bed. Not that I had one of those anymore.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to stay at Nightcairn longer, Tavion,” I murmured softly, watching the embers. “The castle is beautiful; I can see why you love it so.”

His arms tightened around me. “There was a time when that place was my only idea of home.” His chest expanded in a long, slow inhale. “When the thought of losing Nightcairn would have been the worst calamity I could have ever imagined. But you know what I realized?”

“What’s that?” I nestled deeper into his arm, folded beneath my head.

“That Nightcairn would only be home if you were there with me. That without you, it’s only a pile of stone and glass and wood. That this”—he ran his lips down the side of my face—“is as close to perfection as I am ever going to get.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t know what to do with all these feelings swelling bigger and bigger in my chest, so I laid there with him wrapped around me, watching until the fire burned out.

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