Page 143 of A Queen This Fierce and Deadly

Focus. I had to focus. The guards near the sanctuary looked bored. My arrow was already nocked, and I aimed directly at the guard closest to Telean.

But they both ignored her as she shuffled through the wide wooden doors. I blew out a breath.

“Of all the times for my aunt to find her faith,” Demos muttered.

“I’m sure plenty of people find their faith during war.”

He sent me an amused look. “Have you found yours?”

“No,” I said immediately. “You?”

Demos seemed to think about it. “I’ve never had a problem believing in the gods. I just struggle to believe their existence is of any benefit to us.”

Despite my insistence that I hadn’t found any kind of faith, I found myself glancing around, as if the gods could hear us and were about to strike us down. Demosshifted closer, lifting my arm to study a bruise near my elbow. The feel of his large, callused hand on my skin made anticipation shiver through me. Made my heart race and my chest warm. When he released my arm, I instantly craved his touch once more.

Telean stayed in the sanctuary for a long time. Long enough that I had to fight with the voice in my mind. The voice that insisted some kind of harm had come to her. Already, Demos was tense, likely planning how we would kill the guards. His gaze remained pinned to the doors, as if willing his aunt to walk out.

A flap of wings sounded above my head. I froze. A pigeon was fluttering down from the sky, directly toward where we were hidden.

Demos let out a string of low, violent curses. But we were trapped. One of the guards was frowning, watching the pigeon dart toward us.

As long as there weren’t any wards blocking our location from them, the fae-trained birds could find us with their own strange magic. Unfortunately, they had no understanding of the importance of subtlety. And anyone watching a pigeon fly purposefully toward a clump of bushes on the edge of a forest near a sanctuary—which was being guarded due to a number of attacks on others just like it…

I wasn’t a warder.

Neither was Demos.

But I wouldn’t allow Telean to die here.

The guard angled his head.

And Telean stepped out of the door.

The guard was still looking at us. My hand tightenedon my crossbow, and I aimed at his throat. Telean summed up the situation with a mere sweep of her gaze.

And then she clutched her chest, dropping to her knees.

“Why, why, why?” she wailed.

Every hair on my body stood up, as if Lorian had directed his power straight into me.

“What do I do?” I gritted out.

Demos was silent. I pulled back the string of my crossbow. “Demos!” I hissed. “Do I shoot?”

“Hold.”

His tone was as unyielding as the rock I was balancing on.

The guards were watching Telean. She babbled something about her lost daughter. About the evil hybrids and the wicked fae.

The first guard glanced our way once more. But Demos was clutching the pigeon in his hand. I barely breathed.

“Get up,” one of the guards snarled. The other guard said something too low for me to hear, but I could hear his mocking laugh. And that laugh told me Telean’s distraction had worked.

She staggered to her feet, wiping her face with her hands. And then she stumbled off in the opposite direction from us, still weaving unsteadily on her feet. My hands shook at how close we had just come to fighting for our lives.

Demos and I slowly melted back into the forest. Both of us looked down at the pigeon in his hand.

---