T
he last time I fled the pride there was only despair. Desolation in the belief that I would never be whole again. That without the pride, I would be nothing. It wasn’t me fleeing, but Mom making me go.
This time is different. Now
I’m
fleeing. Me. Willingly. As fast as I can. Without the pride, I’m free. Whole as I haven’t been in weeks. Hope overflows in my heart.
Will holds my hand between us. Cassian and Tamra are silent in the backseat. Tension swirls around the four of us as thick as the mists we leave behind.
I sense Cassian behind me. Angry-hard determination ripples off him. It mingles with my own lighter emotions. I focus on my feelings and fight to shove Cassian’s away.
I look down at Will’s hand wrapped around my own. So strong. I remember Corbin’s bewilderment at his strength, and I let that settle in, sink deep. I’d seen evidence of it before. When he fought with Cassian on Big Rock he held his own. I chalked it up to his training but now I’m not so sure. Not after today. Not after what I saw him do with the ground.
Is there some way Will gained multiple draki talents through the transfusion? The strength of an onyx draki
and
the power to manipulate ground and earth like an earth draki? Too incredible, maybe . . . but I know what I saw. He leveraged the earth. Just like an earth draki can do. I didn’t imagine it.
Tamra witnessed it, too. It all goes back to the blood. It has to. What other explanation can there be? He’s immune to shading, he’s extraordinarily strong, he can manipulate the earth. . . . That’s more than any one single draki can do.
And I begin to wonder . . . what else hides in him? In his blood?
I want to talk to him about this, but only when we’re alone. Knowing how Cassian feels, I don’t want to bring up my suspicions that Will gained something more than a second lease on life through his transfusions.
I mull this over in the prolonged silence.
Conversation breaks out once, when Cassian asks, “How long will it take to get there?”
“Depends if we drive straight through,” Will answers.
“We’ll drive straight through,” Cassian returns flatly.
I glance at Will, notice a muscle feathering the flesh of his taut cheek. I give his fingers a slight squeeze, urging patience. This adventure is going to be hard enough. We should all try to get along.
Tamra snorts and mutters, “Always in command.”
I glance back at her. She sits with her arms crossed, pressed against the door to get as far from Cassian as possible in the confines of the vehicle. I turn back around and blow out a slow breath.
It’s going to be a long journey.
We drive for several hours, stopping only once for gas and food. I doze fitfully in the front seat, smoky, terror-soaked images flashing through my half-conscious mind.
I’m in the van again. With Miram. It’s hot and airless and my pores scream for relief in the tight space. Moans choke Miram and I make my way to her on my hands and knees. Only when I touch her shoulder and roll her over, it’s not Miram at all.
It’s Dad.
His eyes are glassy, staring into nothing. No matter how I call him and shake him, he won’t wake. He just lies there like a slab of cold stone.
I wrench myself fully awake, gasping.
Will’s there, his hand closing over mine. “You okay?”
I blink off the vestiges of sleep and nod, unable to hide how much the dream disturbed me. Glancing around, I notice we’ve stopped. He’s standing outside the car and leaning over me.
“W-where are we? What are we doing?”
“Stopping for the night,” Will says. I peer through the darkness and notice Cassian’s figure etched against the night. “C’mon.”
I climb out of the car. Will takes my hand. The door slams as Tamra steps out, pulling her jacket close. “It’s cold.”
“I’ve got blankets, and we can start a fire.”
I shiver in the chilly night. It’s colder here. I can already detect a drop in the temperature from when we last stopped several hundred miles south. In the distance, great jagged mountains, purple against the black night, break the sky.
Tamra blows into her hands. “Can’t we stay somewhere with a roof and four walls?”
“Until we’re farther from the pride, we should stay low. Keep away from public places.”
I turn at Cassian’s deep voice. His stare is liquid dark in the night. Unreadable as usual except
I
can read him. I can feel his anger. His sense of helplessness.
“He’s right.” Will nods and it strikes me as odd that they’re in accord over anything. “Let’s set up camp.”
“I’ll gather firewood.” Cassian disappears into the trees, and I know he wants this. Time to himself. Away from the sight of me and Will.
Tamra and I help Will spread blankets on the ground and set up a ring of rocks for the fire. Will leaves and comes back with a bag of snacks we got from a gas station earlier. Tamra takes a bag of potato chips and drops down on a blanket.
Cassian returns and I pick a blanket to sit on, watching as he and Will work on getting a fire started. Again, this is strange, seeing them work side by side without trying to kill each other. And yet it gives me hope. Hope that we’re going to band together and everything will be okay.
They’re not having an easy time getting the fire to flourish—at least not quickly. I inch close and lean over the nest of sputtering flames and release enough steam so that the fire bursts to life. Will and Cassian jerk back.
Tamra laughs and edges closer, holding out her hands. “Nice. Thought it was going to take them half the night.”
“Show-off,” Will murmurs, draping an arm around me. We settle back down onto the blanket and the chill melts away in his arms.
Cassian rustles through the bag of snacks. I watch him from the corner of my eye, sensing his discomfort. He selects a bottle of juice and fades into the trees. Part of me feels guilty, that I should go after him and try to ease his discomfort. We’re bonded now. Fake or not, it can’t be easy for him to watch me with Will.
But I’ve been gone too long from Will. I don’t want to move, don’t want to leave the comforting circle of his arms. Not yet. Not ever.
“Let’s eat.” He stretches an arm and pulls the bag over to us. “What’s it going to be? Twinkies? Or Cheetos?”
I can’t remember the last time I ate junk food. Not since Chaparral. I snatch the pack of Twinkies from his hand.
“I knew you’d pick that.”
“Why?”
His lips move over mine. “Sweets for the sweet.”
Will takes care that I’m covered and pulls me close against his side. We share food and watch the gray clouds drift against the dark night. I drink strawberry soda until my nose tickles.
“I guess this is the date we never got a chance to have,” he murmurs, his breath warm on my cheek.
I smile, remembering that our first official date was interrupted by Xander and his cousins. “Well, it’s not that little Greek restaurant you promised me, but as far as dates go I’m having a pretty good time.”
“Strawberry soda, Twinkies, and Cheetos. You deserve better.”
Tamra groans and sits up, gathering her blanket and food. “I’m going to sleep in the car. I can’t survive a night of you two sweet talking.” She sends me a wink as she moves toward the car and I know that she’s not really annoyed—that she’s just giving us a chance to be alone.
We’re quiet for several moments, wrapped in each other’s arms, staring up at the night. “We’ll have that, Jacinda. Someday.”
I turn my face, almost bump my nose with his. “What?”
“Normal dates.”
I smile. “I’m not holding my breath for normal, Will. I just want us to be together. Safe. Happy.”
He runs his hand through my hair. “We will be.”
We will be
. After we reach the enkros stronghold and break out Miram. After we find Mom. I relax my thoughts, let them drift like the fast-moving clouds above. Will’s fingers play gently in my hair. His touch lulls me.
“We’re going to be fine. I’ll get us in and out of there. I know how the enkros work.”
I know I should ask him to tell me more about them, to explain more about the enemy we face. I know I should tell him about Cassian and me bonding, but my eyes grow heavy even as I try to keep them open. My last sight is of Will, eyes wide-open, staring up at the night.
I wake with a shiver—mine or Will’s, I can’t tell for certain. We’re tangled in each other’s arms; where one of us ends and the other begins is hard to determine. I wiggle free from the comfort of his body and rouse the fire back to life with one gust of breath. Crouching there, I sweep my eyes over our little campsite and notice that it’s still just Will and me.
Rising, I move to the car and spot my sister asleep in the back, the blanket pulled to her chin. No Cassian. The night is gray-blue in color. Dawn isn’t too far off. Did he stay away all night?
Frowning, I head in the direction he took. The dense forest immediately swallows me. I’m not scared, though. Not of nature or my solitude within it. My strides eat up the forest floor, moist earth cushioned with pine needles. Twigs crunch beneath my shoes and the cracking sound gains a rhythm.
I move without thought, but my course is set, routed somewhere deep in my subconscious as I weave a purpose-filled path through the thick press of trees. I’m led by my sense of Cassian. He’s somewhere close. I feel this. Feel him. In the distance, thunder rumbles softly.
The snap is subtle. There are so many sounds around me that I don’t pay it much attention. Noises are part of the woods.
And then it comes again.
Without actually stopping, I listen, angling my face. Several twigs and leaves break beneath the pressure of something heavy. It’s no small animal. No squirrel running through the undergrowth. Not Cassian.
The flesh at my nape quivers. I stop, hold my breath, and scan the ghostly shapes of the trees on every side of me. Releasing the breath I hold in my lungs, I ease down, squatting low, making myself as small as possible.
My fingers graze the ground, preparing to push off, bolt if needed. My bones begin the familiar pull, skin straining, itching to fade out and make way for my tougher draki skin.
The sound grows louder, stomping through the foliage.
Holding myself still, shrinking small, I become part of the landscape as I wait.
At last, I see the source of the noise.
A magnificent black bear lumbers between two trees, his shiny nose snuffling low to the ground as he makes his way. The creature lifts his shiny dark head, ears perked, nostrils working as he sniffs me out, scenting the air. He detects me.
With a huff the massive bear takes several aggressive steps in my direction. I rise to my feet, hold his stare, let him sense the animal in me . . . that I’m a creature like him, ready to fight back. He dips his head, ready to charge. Our stares lock for a breathless moment. Adrenaline pumps through me fast and hard.
Suddenly there’s another sound. Cassian crashes through the trees, shouting my name as he arrives at my side. He grabs my hand. A rumbling growl erupts from Cassian’s chest. A quick glance at his face reveals that he’s half manifested. The vertical slits of his dragon eyes shudder with menace. His raw power feeds into me, makes me feel stronger. Together, we face the bear, a united front.
A moment passes as the bear continues to size us up. With a grunt, his dark, intelligent eyes slide away. He turns and continues on his way, foraging for more interesting material. I breathe easier watching him depart, admiring the ripple of his muscles beneath his thick coat of fur, relieved that neither one of us had to destroy the beautiful animal.
A smile curves my mouth as I turn to face Cassian. And that’s when I see Will. He stands just beyond us, watching us with a look I’ve never seen. Doubt. Hurt. It’s all there, passing over the carved lines of his face.
I tug my hand free from Cassian and slide it against my thigh, as if I could rub out the sensation of his touch. “Will—” I stop myself just short of asking him how long he’s been standing there, watching us. That would sound guilty, and I’ve done nothing wrong.
Nothing except hide the truth.
Will points at Cassian. “How did you know she was in trouble? You were barely in the campsite for five seconds before you took off, shouting that Jacinda was in trouble . . . you
knew
. How?”
I stare back and forth between Cassian and Will. Cassian looks at me, conveying that this is for me to explain.
“Jacinda,” Will says my name with heavy emphasis, waiting for an answer. For the truth, as much as I don’t want it to be.
Closing my eyes, I fill my lungs with air. I knew I would have to tell him what happened at some point. “Something happened when I went back home.”
Wariness glimmers in Will’s eyes and I think he probably has a good idea of what I’m going to say. Or at least that he’s not going to like it. “What?”
“They decided to clip my wings.”
A muscle flickers in his jaw. “Did they hurt you?”
I shake my head. “No, but Mom protested and they banished her.”
“And? What else?” he prompts, knowing there’s more, that I’ve left out the hard part. “How come they didn’t go through with it and clip your wings?”
I rush out with the rest, thinking the faster I say it, the better, the less painful. “They changed their minds when Cassian offered an alternative.”
“An alternative?” Will no longer looks at me. He just locks gazes with Cassian. His profile hardens, as though he’s bracing himself.
I swallow against the lump in my throat. “Yes. As an alternative . . . he suggested that we bond.”
“Bond?” His gaze whips back to me. “As in marriage?”
“For the draki, yes, it’s much the same thing.” Only the connection can be
more
, can run deeper than that, can link a couple emotionally. . . .
None of this I say. Not yet.
Let him digest one thing at a time.
He swings around and walks a hard line, stopping near a tree. I stare helplessly at the rigid line of his back, jump as he suddenly moves, slamming his fist into the rough bark.