Page 90 of War Hour

It’s a creature like nothing I’ve ever heard of, and I breathe shallowly in its presence, unsure of how dangerous it may be. Unlike the Kadara I faced in Valor’s Trial, I haven’t heard tales of this creature. Whether it is so rare, they never passed the stories of it on, or it is commonly ordinary enough it isn’t mentioned, I’m unsure.

It steps forward again, and the ground shakes from the impact. Mirroring its movement, I retreat silently into the shadows, stumbling over a gnarled tree root.

Landing on my back, I try to push backward, feet scrambling against the forest floor, trying to find purchase. My ankle screams. I hold my hands out to summon a shield, but nothing comes.Panic flashes through me.

The assassin is nearby.

I tuck my head to the side, not wanting to watch as the stag sees me and moves closer.

But nothing happens.

Looking back, the stag lowers its head, neck stretching out as it reaches for a large branch covered in red berries. Its mouth closes around a leafy bundle and pulls. Leaves fall from the jostled bunch and drift downward, raining over me in a red-and-orange storm.

A rush of air pushes out of my mouth as I sag in relief.

The stag stares into my soul, the orbs of its eyes a mix between green and blue—like a swirl of land and water. It blinks slowly, as if taking me in as I do the same.

A moment passes between us, and the stag starts to bow its head.

A smothered shriek escapes my mouth as a shadowed beast appears over the trees to my left, leaping through the air and snapping its jaw around the stag’s leg. The stag squeals in pain, rearing up on its hind legs to buck off the wolf. When the kicking motion fails to pry the beast’s teeth from its hind quarter, I try to summon a shield but can’t.

My body shakes as I watch the stag fight, trying to maneuver its antlers as a divider between them, but the animal doesn’t let go. A hand slips over my mouth from behind me, and the scream cowering just under the surface is swallowed.

“Get to your feet. Now, quickly,” a male voice mutters into my ear.

The relief spreading through my body is an automatic response. Evander. He’s come after me.

I sag against him. My back pressed to his chest.

“Hurry, Lysta. We only have until the Lunacade finishes with the Gradeneer before it notices us.”

His voice heightens in urgency. From behind me, Evander hooks his arms under my own, getting me on my feet. I hiss as my ankle protests at the movement.

“Why are you here?” I ask, looking at Evander wide eyed. “You followed me out?”

“You’re hurt?”

I don’t have time to answer before I’m caught around the waist. My arm pulled up over his muscled shoulder.

“You followed me? Why?” I ask. I hadn’t even hoped Evander would follow me after everything. I just assumed the worst.

“My question takes priority, Lysta! Where. Are. You. Hurt?” Evander looks at me fiercely, something flickering in his bright eyes, highlighted by the moon’s light. Seeing my stubbornness only growing, he answers, albeit reluctantly.

“I started looking for you the moment you ran from the hall. I came out just in time to see you duck into the woods—which might I add is insane at this time of night. Do you know how dangerous that is? The Lunacade is nothing compared to some of the things you could stumble upon in this place. Let alone while you’re hurt. So, once again, where are youhurt?”

“I’m fine,” I whisper. “I just twisted it running.”

As we move away, the stag groans.

No longer directly in the fight’s underground, I turn back, letting my arm slip from Evander’s shoulder.

It’s difficult to keep myself from turning away, my eyes misting as I watch the animal I had feared only minutes ago,force to kneel until its legs collapse. Its body falls with a resounding thud, like a tree falling over. Its face lay on the smooth grass, the bright green stained red.

Without imminent dangerlooming over my head, using Evander for support becomes uncomfortably intimate—considering everything from the last twenty-four hours. My arm hooked around his neck brings his face much closer to mine, making it impossible to look anywhere off to the left without ending up locked in his misty blue eyes. An ache spreads in my neck from keeping my gaze turned in the opposite direction of him.

Our feet find a rhythm that minimizes the limp in my step, but our hips brush with each movement. The arm curled around my waist is faint, only a ghost of fingers whispered against my side. Save for the moments where I stumble over the rougher terrain, climbing over fallen trees blocking our path—then his hand tightens, holding me against him securely.

A hot flush creeps up my neck, pooling in my cheeks as I think about the last time Evander’s hands had held me this close. Everything has changed since the night before, when we’d danced, and I’d been able to tune out everything but his smile and kind words.

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