Page 164 of Where Darkness Falls

She was so downtrodden when I pushed her away.

You did the right thing.

There’s so much that I’ve kept from her—so much that I still need to tell her. However, I can’t say it out loud, even if I wanted to.

I run a hand through my hair.

You’re a coward,I tell myself.

I can’t disagree with that logic. I’ve had plenty of opportunities, yet I never say what actually needs to be said because it’s nice to have her looking at me as if I’m not a monster. At least, that’s until one ofmy secrets surfaces, and I see just how confused she is from it. What happened in the graveyard was all my fault. I knew I should’ve warned them about what Tiernan did to my mother, but how could I when I barely had the courage to face her myself?

The small house closes in on me, suffocating me. Even the crackling fire in the hearth isn’t soothing my anxious heart. I’m halfway tempted to go sleep out in the snow for the night, taking my chances with the lure of the grindylows and kelpies that live in the Bones River.

Legend says that the grindylows sing songs to entice the elves or travelers into the water, only to be drowned and become a source of food for the kelpies that control the river. The elven hovels are located just beyond the edge of the vast watery grave that spans across Zulgalros and Abeautrox.

I sigh, peering out of the thin-framed window, watching the snow flurry as it cascades down along the dark surroundings. The snowflakes twirl through the air before gracefully landing across the expanse, coating the world in its glittering splendor. Grabbing my discarded cloak, I fling open the door and step out into the chilling temperatures. The gelid air helps me to breathe calmly for the first time in the hour that I’ve been here.

Even this close to the Bones River, peace overwhelms my weary spirit. I look up to the dark sky, watching as the stark white snow mixes with the darkness. The snow doesn’t cower or diminish itself, nor can the best efforts of the night hide its beauty.

Extending my hand out to catch the dainty flakes, I smile.

Perhaps one day Malvoria and Zulgalros will be freed of this never-ending darkness, and the people of Celestae won’t dread the Drakhul knocking on their doors—invading their spaces and corrupting their world. Though the thought gives me hope, it’s quickly diminished by the realization that I’ll never be liberated. Even if the Drakhul is eradicated, I’ll always be Tiernan’s weapon, bound to loyalty with that mark. Only Tiernan can remove the mark’s hold, and I know he’d sooner watch me die than release me.

Power is the only thing he cherishes.

A flicker of movement catches my eye near the hovel, amongst the treeline. I hope it’s the Cadre and Maeva arriving, but the spot is empty now. There’s nothing there except the barren trees. My hackles rise, sensing something moving, lurking in the shadows. I slowly pull my sword from its sheath as I quietly walk toward the area. “Come out wherever you are,” I growl.

Still, no one emerges.

“I know you’re out there,” I snap.

The woods are silent, except for the crunching snow beneath my boots. Then, I notice a dark silhouette of a hooded figure hiding behind one of the trees.

Is it the same stranger that’s followed us from Malvoria?

If so, perhaps I’ll get some answers as to why they feel the need to trail us.

Making my steps as silent as possible, I move until I’m on the backside of the tree. As I inch around the perimeter, the figure stays frozen in their spot. I grip my sword as my shadows dance along my shoulders, begging to entrap the intruder. I’m about to allow them to do just that when a whinny echoes from behind me.

I avert my gaze to find the Cadre and Maeva approaching the hovels. My chest eases that Maeva isn’t riding with Virgil. However, it’s her forlorn expression that causes my soul to ache, knowing I’m the source of her sorrow. Not able to bear her sadness another moment, I turn back toward the shadowy figure, but their silhouette is gone.

I blink a few times, scanning the spot once more, but again I see no one. I look for tracks in the snow, but none appear. Either the stalker is a vapor, or my mind has conjured something out of my paranoia. I’d like to think it’s most likely the latter, but I’m not certain. After all, there are only so many figures I’ve seen hooded or with red eyes… and all of them work for the king.

As I trek back to the hovel, my mind tries to force my suppressed memories to the surface. I push them down, even if I’d like to be lost inthem instead of facing reality. Back to happier times when I was just a young prince that adored?—

“Emyr,” Riordan calls out. I snap my head up from the snow I was watching intensely. The group frowns at me, their worry radiating from them in waves. “Are you alright, mate?”

I offer a weak smile and nod. “Just thought I saw something in the woods,” I reply. “It’s nothing.”

My friends exchange looks, but remain silent because they don’t wish to push the issue. So they unpack their things from their horses, choosing their own respective hovels to sleep in for the evening. The small woodland houses aren’t large enough to accommodate us all in one space, so Riordan and Virgil go to the one adjacent to mine, while Laisren takes the one closest to the Bones River.

As the others disappear within their hovels, Maeva stays grounded in place, looking everywhere but at me. “I assume I’m staying in the hovel with you?” she asks. I don’t approach her, even as everything in me desires to fall to my knees and beg for her forgiveness.

The distance is best.

“You can stay in another hovel if you wish,” I retort.

She sucks in her bottom lip, nodding solemnly. Her ocean eyes search mine. “Is that what you wish?” she asks.

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