Page 75 of Feral Gods
The weight of his implication settles heavily in my stomach. Me. They come for me—the human slave with unexpectedly valuable blood, the descendant of their greatest witch, the key to powers I barely comprehend.
"We need to move," I say, pushing aside fear in favor of pragmatism. "This sanctuary is already compromised from your fight. We can't defend a crumbling position."
Ravik nods, leadership sitting naturally on his powerful shoulders once more. "Thane, ready our essential supplies. Zephyr, secure the most valuable texts and artifacts. We move to the secondary location within the hour."
As they turn to execute his orders, I catch his arm. "And you?"
Something flickers in his amber eyes—gratitude, perhaps, that I still seek his proximity despite yesterday's events. "I'll secure our retreat path and lay false trails to delay pursuit."
"I'm coming with you," I announce, the statement brooking no argument.
Surprise crosses his features, followed by automatic objection. "It's too dangerous?—"
"Everything is dangerous," I interrupt. "And my magic might prove useful in creating false trails."
He studies me, conflict evident in his expression. Then, surprisingly, he nods. "Stay close. Follow my lead. And if I give an order related to your safety?—"
"I'll consider it carefully," I compromise, a slight smile curving my lips.
The answering quirk of his mouth—not quite a smile but far from his usual grim expression—represents significant progress."Acceptable. Gather your things and meet me at the eastern exit in ten minutes."
As I turn to descend the tower stairs, his voice stops me one final time.
"Kaia." When I look back, vulnerability has returned to his expression. "Thank you. For seeing possibilities where I saw only limitations."
The simple gratitude, freely given, means more than any passionate declaration. I nod, acknowledging both his words and the courage they required.
"That's what family does," I reply. "They see the best in each other, even when it's hidden."
His expression suggests I've given him something to contemplate as I descend the stairs, my steps lighter despite the looming threat. Yes, enemies approach from two directions. Yes, danger surrounds us on all sides. But for the first time since my desperate flight from Liiandor, I feel not just protected but empowered. Not just desired but valued.
In the broken slave girl who fled through snow and darkness, these three extraordinary beings have recognized something worth fighting for—worth changing for. And in their transformation from adversaries to protectors to lovers, I've discovered my own metamorphosis from victim to equal.
Whatever comes next—battle, magic, sacrifice—we face it not as separate individuals with conflicting needs but as a unified whole with complementary strengths.
As I gather my few possessions from the chamber Ravik and I once shared, my fingers brush the pendant we removed from the purna's pouch. It pulses with magenta energy that matches my own, the connection to my bloodline undeniable. For a moment, I consider leaving it behind—rejecting the heritage that makes me valuable to our enemies.
Instead, I slip it into a small leather pouch and secure it around my neck, hidden beneath my tunic. Knowledge is power, as Zephyr often reminds me. And if Morwen's blood flows through my veins, perhaps her secrets can serve my purposes rather than hers.
Outside, thunder rumbles across the mountain peaks—nature's warning of approaching storm. Or perhaps something more significant: the gathering magical energies of two ancient enemies united in common purpose.
They come for me, these powers that would use me for their own ends. They'll find instead something unprecedented on Protheka—four beings united by choice rather than circumstance, by love rather than obligation.
Let them come. We'll be ready.
19
THANE
Blood sings in my veins as I crouch at the ridge's edge, surveying the approaching forces through the pre-dawn mist. Two armies converge on our position from different directions, moving with the coordinated precision that speaks of shared purpose despite centuries of mutual hatred. Dark elves and purna, united by their desire for what we protect.
For who we protect.
The dark elf contingent marches in tight formation along the southern approach—at least forty elite warriors in gleaming obsidian armor, their long white hair bound in war-braids, violet eyes scanning the terrain with predatory focus. Leading them, astride a massive shadowhorn mount whose breath steams in the cold mountain air, rides a figure whose ornate armor and commanding presence can only belong to King Kres himself.
So the rumors were true. The monarch of Liiandor considers Kaia valuable enough to lead the hunt personally rather than delegating to his generals. This complicates matters significantly.
To the east, where the forest thins before giving way to rocky terrain, the purna advance with characteristic stealth. I countonly twelve figures in silver-gray robes, their hoods concealing features but not the shimmering aura of magical energy that surrounds them like heat waves on a summer plain. What they lack in numbers, they more than compensate for in arcane firepower.
