Page 30 of Tethered In Blood

I gazed at her, bewildered. “Are you serious?”

“Would I joke about something like this?” she said, her expression blank.

After everything we had just endured, her primary concern was relieving herself. “Make it quick,” I muttered, scanning the trees. “And don’t wander.”

She slid off the horse with a groan and stretched her legs before making her way to the thicket. I kept my eyes on the forest, listening for anything unusual. When she returned, she seemed far more at ease than she had any right to be after the night we had. She stretched her arms overhead and groaned. “I can’t sit on that horse any longer,” she announced. “I’m walking.”

Albeit frustrating, it didn’t surprise me. “We’re almost there.”

“And?” She raised an eyebrow. “Your decision to stay on doesn’t mean I have to.”

My leg swung over the saddle before I dropped beside her. “Fine.”

The sun had begun its slow ascent, spilling pale gold through the dense canopy. The thick morning fog fractured its light, rendering it weak. It should have brought warmth and stirred the forest awake with birdsong and the rustle of unseen creatures in the underbrush.

But there was no flutter of wings, no chittering of dusk hares bounding through the grass, nor the distant howl of a morning silver wolf calling its pack. There was nothing, and that unsettled me.

The closer we walked to Silverfel, the thicker the fog became. The mist enveloped the village, making the buildings hazy.

Quinn glanced over a few times. I waited for her to express whatever was on her mind. After the fifth glance, she shot me a look with furrowed brows, and I could no longer hold my tongue. “What?”

“Nothing.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That was too much nothing, Dilthen Doe.”

She pursed her lips, and her eyes narrowed. “Are you going to explain what that was back there, or do I have to guess?”

She wouldn’t let it go. If her journal revealed anything, it was that she needed answers to everything that piqued her curiosity and challenged her. “Ashenmaws.”

“Ashenmaws,” she echoed, rolling the word over her tongue. “That’s a name that doesn’t inspire confidence.”

My gaze stayed fixed on the path ahead. “It shouldn’t.”

She stole another glance at me. “You’ve seen them before.”

For several strides, I ignored her relentless badgering.

“Are you going to tell me?” she pressed. “Or do I have to keep guessing and talking your ear off?”

I should have known better.

“They are the result of a Fae bargain gone wrong.”

After a few steps, I noticed she had stopped walking. I turned, my brows furrowed in irritation. “What now?”

“You say that as if you know,” she wondered, searching my eyes for something I was determined not to let her find.

“I do.”

Her brows furrowed, but she didn’t respond. Whatever she thought of could remain in her head this time. I wasn’t just familiar with the Ashenmaws; I understood them, which was unsettling for a human.

As we approached Silverfel, the fog thickened, curling around the buildings like creeping fingers. Smoke spiraled from chimneys, but no voices or movement greeted us—only the muted sound of our boots against the damp road. The village felt unnaturally still. Once we reached the town square, I tied Neryth to the Village well in the center.

“Stay here,” I commanded, turning to Quinn.

She scoffed. “Why?”

“Because it was an order.”

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