A River of Golden Bones (The Golden Court, #1)(32)
“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “We will fix this, Calla. I swear it to you.”
My breathing slowed as I curled my arms around him.
“We have to go after Maez,” I murmured into his chest. His burgundy tunic stained with tears. “She can break this curse. Sawyn wouldn’t have taken her otherwise. We have to fix this.”
“We will go after Maez,” Grae assured. “But I need time to convince my father that it is the right plan. Rally the rest of the pack to this cause.”
“We don’t have time.” How long would Briar survive like this? A day? A year?
“Time might be all we do have. Maez is alive,” Grae insisted, glancing over my shoulder. “Sawyn could have just killed her, but she didn’t, and that means she’s not planning to. But we can’t rescue her on our own.”
I turned back to my lifeless sister, a fresh bout of tears springing to my eyes again—a well of sorrow that would never run dry. “We can’t leave her like this.”
“Give me time to work on my father.”
Those words snapped the final tether to my rage. Work on his father? He said it as if he’d been successful in the past. But, judging by my icy reception, King Nero would never be swayed by his son.
I pushed off Grae’s chest, stepping out of his hold. “I have waited twenty years—my entire life—for promises that your father never intended on upholding.” My voice wobbled as Grae reached to wipe my tears. I smacked his hand away. Enough of this charade. “I don’t want your comfort.”
“To disobey him is more dangerous than you understand,” Grae said, some fear-tinged heat in his voice now. “You don’t know what you’re asking, and I can’t do it.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“The answer is no, Calla.” Grae’s face was stone. “One day you’ll understand I’m doing this to protect you.”
Why would I need protection, though? Protection from what? A king who doesn’t even recognize me as someone with a name? A witch who doesn’t even know of my existence? I didn’t need protection—I needed allies. And it was clear there were none to be found amongst the Silver Wolves.
No, nothing would happen, nothing would change, unless I forced it into being. I knew then for certain what I had always known: I’d have to carve out my own path in the world, because no one would clear the way for me . . . not even my mate.
I huffed a bitter laugh, grabbing the amber stone from around my neck and yanking the chain free. “I have no use for your protection nor a mate who’s a coward.” I threw it at him, watching his shock morph into devastation as it fell to the floor.
I pushed past him and left without another word. He didn’t stop me.
Storming through the castle, my heart thundered in my rib cage. I was sick of waiting for the promises of men. I threw open the door to my chambers and hastened to my wardrobe. It was time for me to take charge. I donned my battle leathers and belted my dagger to my waist. I put some changes of clothes into my backpack and looked around to see if there was anything else of use.
Who knew how many days my sister would last before she withered away like the flowers in her hands? How many weeks would the sleeping curse preserve her life without food or drink?
I pushed through the adjoining door to Briar’s room, straight to her gem-studded jewelry chest. I grabbed out a pouch of coins from the bottom drawer and a handful of trinkets, shoving them into my heavy pack. That should be enough.
Rescuing Maez would take stealth . . . and the one thing I seemed to be good at was being ignored. The only one who might have tried to prevent me from going was Grae, and I was unsurprised that he chose to obey his father like an obedient little lapdog rather than actually help the person he purportedly loved.
Pulling my hood up, I strode through the castle toward the back gates, not a single servant stopping to question my movements.
The haunting image of Briar’s lifeless face chased me through the forest. My heavy pack bounced with every step and its thin leather straps cut into my shoulders. I heaved ragged breaths, pushing my burning legs to move faster. I needed to get far from Highwick by nightfall.
Doubling back on my steps and passing through the rivers would slow down their hunt—and there was no doubt that when the moon rose in the sky, the pack would come for me. I was the mate of their prince . . . and a deserter. Wolves didn’t leave their pack. Desertion was usually a death sentence, but at least I knew they couldn’t kill me since I was tied to Grae. Nero needed me, too, to legitimize his theft of Olmderian gold.
They’d track me, though. Drag me back to Highwick, stuff me in a wedding dress, and once the vows were done, they’d lock me up in that castle and never think of me again except maybe to let Grae try to sire some litters with me. I shuddered at the thought of him even touching me now. This is the only role I’d be allowed, my whole being reduced to my ability to give the King heirs. I gritted my teeth wondering how many years would Grae promise and plead to fix things before he gave up? How long before the fire inside him died?
I slogged through another murky creek. My boots hung by their laces from my pack, my trousers rolled up to the knee. Barefoot, I could sense the earth below my feet. It also meant I could keep my boots dry for when I reached the next town.
The white summits of the Stormcrest Ranges towered above me, signaling the Taigos border, home of the Ice Wolves. This northern part of Damrienn was a mystery to me. I had never thought to study the little towns scattered throughout the forests here, since I always assumed I’d go straight from Damrienn to Olmdere. That wasn’t an option now—I needed some distance and needed to go in the least likely direction. But I knew the Stormcrest Ranges were vicious, with icy gales and unpredictable blizzards. There would be no going straight over them into Taigos. I needed to get through the mountain pass before the Silver Wolves did or they’d block my only way through.