Daisy Blooms - Azriel

Chapter 24

Emerie confirmed that she'd been attacked and chased by the males we spied at the river. She'd leaped in as a final shot at survival, hit her head on a rock, and remembered nothing until the cave.

Nesta gave her a swift, brutal rundown of our own encounters as we picked our way southward, mostly keeping silent to listen for any passing Illyrians. A few solo warriors ignored us as we trudged past, covered in blood, all heading east; a few packs battled each other; and many more bodies lay on the cold earth.

We scanned for any gleam of copper hair. But we saw and heard no sign of Gwyn. We did not speak of whether their charms might be leading us toward a body.

The day passed, and we found another cave as night fell, huddling together for warmth. Emerie insisted on taking the first watch, and me and Nesta slept at last. When her friend woke her, Emerie had let her doze for longer than she should have. I knew that because half of the time I didn't actually sleep.

I miss Azriel. You'll always miss your significant other when you are away from them for long periods of time, but being away from your mate is a lot harder.

Every so often when we're walking along, I'll see a shadow floating around. I know they're his shadows checking up on me. They never go near me since he can't interfere in the Rite at all, but they let me know that he misses me too, and tell him that I'm okay.

I know he's probably on some mission, trying to find out more information about the Human Queen. Which, I worry about him on his missions as well, but I know he can handle himself like how he knows I can handle myself.

In the morning, we emerged to find blood mixed with the snow on the ground. The animal tracks around the mouth of the cave were large enough to roil our stomachs.

Soon, snow began falling in earnest. Enough to veil the world ahead and behind, and any enemies with it. We shivered with each step southward, though we'd piled on extra jackets from fallen warriors, and as the morning crept toward midday, I flexed my fingers to keep my hands from freezing through.

"I smell fire," Emerie murmured. We'd last spoken hours ago, concentrating instead on staving off the cold that was so deep it made their teeth ache.

We halted behind two pines, surveying the terrain, the snow-heavy sky. Nesta consulted her charm. "That way," she said, inclining her head to the left. "The fire is also in that direction-the wind's carrying the smoke down from that ridge."

"It could be Gwyn's fire," Emerie suggested hopefully.

"Or it could be some else's." I added.

"Let's hope it's Gwyn's. Even if it's not, we should go check it out." Nesta says.

We inched along, darting from tree to tree, listening for any danger around us, any hint of Gwyn ahead. We'd been moving for several minutes when laughter reached us. Male laughter.

Emerie's face paled as she held her bracelet toward the source of the laughter. Its charm glowed, glinting even the sun's weak winter light.

"Keep downwind," Nesta said grimly. "We'll take the ridge from the southern side."

A nightgown hung on a branch near the camp's edge.

A soft inhale of breath from Emerie was her only sign of dread and pain as we climbed the last of the ridge toward the warriors camped atop it. They were boasting about the males they'd killed, the remaining trek towaid Ramiel. I strained to hear any hint of a female amongst them. If Gwyn's nightgown was hanging from a tree, then Gwyn-

To hell with reaching Ramiel. We'd spend the rest of the week here killing them all slowly.

The crest of the ridge lay ten feet above.