It takes me a minute to decipher his words, to realize that he’s answering my question. “Really?” I ask, not expecting the gift. I squint, thinking of the moment back in the woods when he tackled me. “That’s how you caught me,” I say in realization.

  He nods his head, sitting up straighter. “Yes, Orrael couldn’t transport to you because he couldn’t properly see you in the dark and he isn’t that familiar with your energy, yet. So, I caught up to you after having permission. We usually try not to expose our gifts.”

  “We?” I ask, wondering who the pronoun extends to.

  He nods his head. “Mhhm.” He doesn’t offer much more than that.

  “You can’t leave me with only that,” I tell him as I settle in next to him, relaxing.

  “I have two gifts,” he says after sitting in silence for a few moments. I raise a brow for him to continue. He hesitates for a moment and I wonder if it’s because he’s been given strict orders by the others not to give me too much information. It definitely sounds like something Elyjah or Walker would tell him. “Empathy is my second gift.”

  “That… kind of fits you.” The man definitely holds a level of emotion to him and being able to connect with others.

  “How does it work? Your empathy gift.” The possibilities are endless and I’d rather he tell me than having to guess.

  He rubs his lips together in contemplation. “It’s hard to explain, but I can feel the emotions of others. Sometimes, it’s to the point until I feel exactly what they feel and it can pull me down a dark hole, so I try not to tap into it if I can avoid it.” A dark look passes through his eyes before he lets out a sigh. “And sometimes, I can project emotions onto others, make them feel what I want them to.”

  That’s dangerous.

  I keep my gaze shuttered as I watch him. Has he ever picked up on my emotions before? If so, what did he think? What did he feel?

  “If you can project emotions onto people, why don’t you ever try to do it to make me more agreeable, or I guess, friendly and nice, would be the emotions.” I know how much my resolve to not work with the guys has been a nuisance.

  The amount of times I’ve gotten angry or lashed out at them…

  Couldn’t he have just made me calm.

  He purses his lips, his eyes holding mine. “Well, like I said, it’s dangerous for us to use our gifts. Magic is supposed to be dead, after all, so I can’t risk the exposure. But the most valid reason is that I believe everyone should have a choice in what they do, and what they feel. Who am I to take that away simply because I can?”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Amelia, you need more discipline,” my sister’s voice is low and sharp. When I look up at her, I find her blue eyes full of disappointment as she shakes her head. “You possess no self-control.”

  I love my sister, I do, at least until she starts spouting words that a six-year-old shouldn’t have to deal with. It’s bad enough I have to take etiquette classes and learn how to be a proper lady of the crown. I don’t need to hear such sentiments from my sister too.

  I turn my nose up, crossing my arms over my chest as I stare at her in silence. Her blonde hair is straightened to perfection today, her blue eyes are decorated with soft pink glitter that manages to look soft and regal. Her long pink dress should look ridiculous on her with the soft frills, like something a teenager is too old to be wearing, yet she makes it look perfect, so elegant and classy.

  I look down at my own torn up dress. It’s black, something that I’d had to beg and plead for my mother to allow me to have, since she always reminds me that a lady should wear softer colors. But she’d finally caved and let me have the black dress with the white color bedazzled with silver jewels. If it was up to me, I’d be wearing pants, but since mother made it clear that wasn’t an option, this is my dress of choice… though you wouldn’t be able to tell from the damage I’ve managed to cause to the dress.

  The hems of the dress are now frayed and tattered. It's covered in a thick lining of mud that practically weighs the dress down. There’s a rip across the top of the dress where I’d managed to get it snagged in a tree and ripped it while trying to pull free.

  My sister’s lips turn down even further as she continues to take in the damage of my dress. She shakes her head again before looking around, no doubt to see if anyone else has spotted the damage I’ve done. After a moment she lets out a deep sigh and reaches for my hand.

  I let her drag me along but I decided to give her the silent treatment. I don’t like the look she keeps giving me, similar to that of which Elthyl gives me when I’m late to etiquette class or how my mother's face turns into a look of anger when I’ve popped the head off another doll.

  Kalice continues to pull me along and we only pass by a few servants who keep their heads down and their eyes away from the crown princess and her brat of a little sister.

  Kalice mutters something under her breath before we’re gliding down the hall leading to our chambers. Our rooms are only a couple of doors apart but it won’t be that way for long. Mother told us only recently that as the future queen, Kalice will be getting her own wing soon since it's important for a queen to never share her things. I wasn’t happy about the decision, but I recognize that it’s the way it is.

  My sister is the next queen of the north, of the Deightyn Dynasty, and I will forever remain just a princess.

  Kalice pushes open the door to my room and she hurries to pull me inside. The doors snap shut with a loud thud behind us.

  I watch as she makes her way to my wardrobe. Her eyes scan the assortment of clothes before she turns and sends me a serious look. “Hurry and undress, Amelia, we must be quick before Elthyl comes looking for you and sees what you’ve done.”

  I don’t want to obey her, but I know she’s right so I start to pull the black dress off, frowning at the mud that lands on my floor.

  “We’ll have Delia clean it,” Kalice tells me, her eyes drifting to the same thing as mine. “But the dress must be disposed of and mother can never see it. You know she doesn’t like it when you ruin your nice things, Amelia.”

  “Because a lady should always have respect for herself and the things that she owns,” I mock the words that mother always says to me at least once every week. They always irritate me, no matter the warmth and love that mother’s eyes hold whenever she says the words.

  “Right,” Kalice agrees.

  I roll my eyes which only makes my sister frown more. “Lift your arms,” she tells me as she makes her way to me with a lavender dress. It’s plain with the skirt being the only special thing about it, puffing off from the waist with glitter lining the skirt.

  I lift my arms and the soft fabric glides over my skin as she helps me into the dress. “Turn,” she says softly before she zips up the back of the dress.

  I refold my arms over my chest as I turn to look at her. Her blue eyes are soft and kind but I know from the slight huff that she lets out that she isn’t completely satisfied with me at the moment. “Amelia, you’re getting too old for this,” she says shortly.

  “I’m six.”

  “And at six I knew how to properly bow before other royals and not to mess up my beautiful dresses.”

  “But you’re going to be a queen,'' I argue, throwing the words that no one ever lets me forget at her.

  “That doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t take note simply because you are not the crown princess.” A sad look washes over her gaze. She fiddles with the heart shaped locket that hangs from her neck. Mother gave it to her on her fourteenth birthday and she never takes it off. “Sometimes things happen and plans change.”

  I squint at her. “What do you mean?”

  Her shoulders sag slightly and she looks over my shoulder at the door. “I mean that there have been times when a crown princess or princess has died or lost the rights to the crown in some way. When that happens, the next sibling in line became the heir apparent.” Her brows crinkle as she continues to watch me. “You’ve attended your history classes, you’ve been taught the line of hierarchy,” she reminds me.

  I have. I didn’t quite enjoy the lesson and didn’t find it important but I remember my teacher frowning as she’d tried to stress that sometimes the role of the heir is passed down.

  “Nothing is going to happen to you, so I don’t have to worry about that,” I say stubbornly.

  Kalice’s blue eyes soften and she squats down in front of me. “I hope not, Amelia, but we never know how things are going to go.”

  I only stare at her, not wanting anything to happen to my sister. Sure, sometimes she annoys me, just like mother, but I love them very much and wouldn’t wish for anything to ever happen to them.

  A soft smile paints Kalice’s pink lips. “Plus, you have to learn how to sit in dresses properly whether you’re going to be a princess or a queen.” Her eyes dance with laughter and I can’t help but to smile back at her.

  “Why?”

  She leans in, lowering her voice. “Because you never know when the boy of your dreams will be observing you and the last thing you’d want for them to see is you in a ripped and muddy dress.”

  I sit up abruptly, my heart racing in my chest and the memory of my sister fresh in my mind. It’s not often that I dream of the six years of peace I had before my world came crashing down. Oftentimes I can’t remember some things, the fragments of memories not wanting to connect in my brain. But I remember the day I ruined my dress and my sister covered for me. It wasn’t a rare occasion: me getting into trouble and my sister helping me out of it. The dress incident had only happened a month before the fire. It’d happened a week before she moved out of the same wing as me.

  Would Conrad haven been able to get to her too if we were still in the same wing?

  It's a question that has always haunted me, but I know it’s not something that I can change.

  Sometimes things happen and plans change.

  At six, I couldn’t have known how right my sister was.

  I blink the memory away as I look around, trying to remember where I am.

  The cave.

  We’d eaten the tamaegus after Brielyn and Walker returned from gathering firewood. It hadn’t been anything to write home about, which was to be expected, but I’d definitely felt full after eating it, so things could be worse. Since nightfall had long fallen, we’d agreed that we’d game plan more once everyone had a little more rest. Brielyn’s eyes had dashed around between us and I could practically see the question stirring in his eyes.

  What is Orrtyn doing here and why are you working with him and Walker?

  I’d never hidden my disdain from the men but I didn’t have any answers for Brielyn so I’d chosen to ignore him instead. Walker decided to keep watch while everyone else slept and I’d only agreed after he’d promise to wake me up after a couple of hours to switch. A part of me couldn’t agree to let the man watch over me for a whole night, that kind of trust still not a thing amongst us.

  Is that why I’m suddenly awake?

  I look around, my heart still racing in my chest but I don’t catch a glimpse of the big man, not even at the mouth to the cave where he was supposed to be sitting guard.

  My shoulders tense and I whip my head around. Orrtyn is still asleep some odd feet away and not much further from him, towards the back of the cave Brielyn’s chest is moving slowly and even, alerting me that he’s also still asleep.

  But something feels off.

  Where is Walker?

  I listen intently for anything to give away why my body feels so alert and why the man is missing. At first, I hear nothing and then there’s the soft sound of a grunt and I’m instantly alert.

  What the hell is that?

  I push to my feet without a second's hesitation, my hand already reaching out for Gwev’ where she was resting not even a foot from where I slept. I keep my hand around the hilt as I tip closer toward the mouth of the cave.

  The noise came from somewhere outside.

  It’s still dark out, letting me know that I couldn’t have slept for more than a couple of hours, probably.

  The closer I get to the mouth of the cave, the louder the sound gets before it starts to morph into something else.

  When a metallic clang reaches my ears, my body is already going into fight mode. I’d recognize the sound of swords clashing anywhere.

  I continue to move softly but quicker, not wanting to alert whoever is outside of my presence.

  I pause once I get just to the mouth of the cave. The sound is coming from the right and if I had any doubts about a scuffle they’re quickly diminished as I continue to listen. I can’t quite gauge how many men are outside but I know I don’t have time to try to figure it out, because if my instincts are right, Walker is alone against more than a handful of men.

  And what makes you want to help him when he’s made it clear that he doesn’t need your help?

  We have an alliance, I tell myself. The man is no good to me dead. But something about the words feel off.

  Deciding I don’t have time to think it over, I quickly turn around the corner and find Walker standing with his back to me, more than a half a dozen men standing in front of him and more littered along the ground, dead.

  Walker has his twin swords out and I don’t have time to focus on them as I dash forward, swinging Gwev’ in the route of a sword headed for Walker’s shoulder. I shove a boot into the chest of the man, tossing Gwev’ up into his sword to kill his balance even more.

  My eyes meet Walker’s for the briefest of moments and the darkness I see in them, the blood hunger… It looks familiar.

  A grunt has my head snapping around and I duck out of the way of an attack just in time. I thrust Gwev forward, impaling the tall man who was prepared to jab his dagger into my throat.

  I withdraw Gwev, swinging around and diving into the heat of the battle. It isn’t pretty and I receive more than my fair share of cuts but nothing that I can’t handle. A gurgle sounds from behind me and I turn to find a man stumbling backwards, an arrow embedded into his throat. Blood pools around the arrow, trickling down his neck.

  I glance at Walker who’s fighting off two men, but just as before he still only has his swords.

  I have just enough time to look at the mouth of the cave and find Orrtyn holding Walker’s bow, his back straight and his arms steady as he holds a perfect form and lets loose another arrow.

  The breath is knocked out of me abruptly and I go flying to the ground with a heavy body following after me. I let out a grunt, but instantly jab my elbow into the side of the man’s face. I try to reach out for Gwev but it’s a blind search as I continue to fend off the man on top of me.

  Giving up on searching for Gwev, I throw a hard fist into the nose of the man, blood pulsing out of it down onto me. Some of his weight is moved off of me and I use the moment to push out. The dagger from my boot is in my hand in the next moment and I strike the man right between the eyes.

  I get to my feet, surveying the scene. Orrtyn is still standing at the mouth of the cave with the bow, his gaze sharp as he looks around. Walker twirls one of his swords and in the blink of an eye it’s ripping through the air right before it slides through an attackers neck, completely decapitating the man without mercy.

  “Roxanna!”

  The yelling of my name comes a moment too late as I turn around. I catch the flash of silver and a snarl across a man’s lips before white hot agony rips through my shoulder. I have to keep from screaming as the man pulls the sword out of my shoulder. Blood flows freely from the new wound.

  I stagger back, putting up my hand in some form of defense that I know isn’t going to work with Gwev on the ground feet away from me.

  The man takes a step forward, leveling his sword at me again, but before he can continue to attack, he’s falling to the ground.

  I blink as the pain in my shoulder battles with my mind while I try to figure out what just happened.

  Orrtyn stands in front of me, his eyes colder than I’ve ever seen before. I glance down to the space in front of him, finding the other man lying on the ground with his neck bent at an awkward angel.

  “Gumdrop?” Orrtyn asks softly, taking a step forward as my head starts to spin.

  I open my mouth, trying to form words but nothing comes out. His eyes widen and it’s the last thing I see before I’m falling.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “What do you do if you ever find yourself in enemy territory, girl?” Uleb’s cold blue eyes watch me closely.

  “You find a friend.” I tell her.

  She narrows her eyes but doesn’t say anything, continuing to watch and listen to me. I know she won’t tell me if I’m wrong or not until I’m completely done.

  “And you find any other weaknesses that you can in the enemy’s territory and you exploit it.” I stop and somehow those reptilian-like eyes narrow even more into slits.

  “And what else?”

  I glance at her in confusion before my gaze moves behind her to where Ru is watching me with wide silver eyes. She looks at Uleb and even though the woman’s back is to her, I know she’s aware that Ru is watching.

  She never misses a thing.

  “You fight your way out.”

  “Yes, and this friend, what do you do with them?” Uleb asks, stressing the word friend.

  My gaze wavers from her hard one and I have to bite back the urge to look down at the ground. It’s a sign of weakness that I can’t afford in front of a woman as cold as the one standing in front of me. Not only will she pounce on it, but she'll rip through, tearing every ounce of me apart in a reminder never to show weakness.

  I must remain silent too long because she takes a step forward and suddenly I’m wishing Conrad was here. Maybe my mentor isn’t the warmest heart, but I know he has boundaries, Uleb has none.

  Uleb’s blue eyes remain focused on me. “You kill the friend,” she says plainly as if this is something every thirteen-year-old should know and maybe she’s right, I have been training for over half my life now.

  I should know better.

  “Do you know why that is, Roxanna?” Something about the way she says my name stirs a feeling of warning low in my belly and my heart pounds a little quicker in my chest. When she tilts her head to the side slightly, I know she’s without a doubt listening in to the pounding.