Page 18 of Shadow and Smite

“It… it wasn’t supposed to be you.” I wondered if she could ever look at me with the same softness she showed the Firewolf. Especially now. My whole plan felt foolish. I had taken the risks, but Ayla faced the consequences. “I was supposed to be branded. The Brand was supposed to lead me to Eleanor.”

“You knew they would come,” she realized. “That handkerchief was the bait. You knew someone in the tavern would see it—that they would track you and send Shades after you. This whole fiasco, it’s your fault.”

I shrugged guiltily.

“You better fix it. You better fixme,” she gritted. “You caused this. You and that ugly handkerchief.”

It wasn’t ugly. Eleanor had embroidered it just for me. I stepped toward Ayla, my hand open, eager to have the handkerchief returned. “If you hate it so much, I want it back.”

“I… I can’t. It vanished. After bringing me here.”

Oh.It was irreplaceable. My hand quivered, and it clenched into a fist, hardening with the loss.

Eleanor.How was I going to find her if I didn’t have the Brand? Everything was ruined.

Except…

Except Ayla was branded.

A new plan began to form. One that would still allow me to save my twin sister. It wasn’t a plan to be proud of, but Eleanor’s life was at stake. The future of the Shadow Court depended on her—and I was its prince.

“Vanessa, continue our journey north,” I said. Then I motioned Ayla toward the boat’s single cabin. “I have something that should help.”

Her eyes sparkled with relief. “You have a cure?”

It wasn’t the cure she wanted. “Yes,” I answered.

Ayla

Like the rest of the boat, the cabin was small. A bed filled the entire back wall, consuming most of the space. A desk was bolted to one wall and a wardrobe to the other. Cabinets lined the walls.

The bed had proper sheets and thick, fur-lined blankets, offering warmth against the sea’s cool mist. Plush pillows lined the back wall. Clothes hung from the wardrobe, and several antique books were tied down against the desk.

I took up most of the standing room, so when Zayne entered, he had to press himself against the wall to reach the desk. He settled on the bolted stool.

“I’ll need to, umm…” He blushed. “To apply the ashflower, I’ll need to access the Brand. So you’ll need to, uh, remove your armor.”

The Brand was right over my heart, between my breasts. He needed to seethat? “That is, by far, the worst invitation to undress I’ve ever heard,” I said.

My bawdy words rose from discomfort, but they were already spoken. I grinned like I’d said it on purpose.

He blinked up at me, obviously flustered. “Was there a better way to say it? I’m trying to give you a magical treatment. I don’t want to see your body.” He paused, shaking his head. “Not that there is anything wrong with your body! You’re quite breathtaking—”

“It’s fine,” I said, saving him from further embarrassment. He found me breathtaking? With my pitiful antlers? “I wasn’t serious.”

“Oh. I’ll look away while you get ready.”

“Right.” I swallowed.

The overcoat of my leather armor was tightly laced, and I took stock of my circumstances as I released the bindings.

I had seen my Firewolf—she was real. And now she was going to send me a turtle? She gave me a proper direction. It was my first goal that went beyond escaping to a fae fiddle bar. Only now, instead of playing merchant’s cousin, my traveling companion was the Shadow Prince.Zayne.

I didn’t know what to think of him. We had fought together, his plans unraveling with mine, tangling us together. He deceived me, as I deceived him.

His botched plan had branded me, and I hated him for it. Yet there was also pity. There was tragedy in his childhood, in the Collapse. It worried me that he wanted the Brand to find his sister.

He was still hiding something. As was I.

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