𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 | 𝟏𝟖+

xxiii. into the blight.

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‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒, 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖, but I can't follow you on this one," Arion mutters under his breath, his voice carrying through a partially cracked door. The voices carry from the outside corridor. "Cordea doesn't want to go when it puts her at risk."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I'm not expecting you. It's a deathwish, but it's clear that the fae won't lend me any of their magic," the alpha responds. "This is the only option I have, and it's a fucking longshot."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Arion grunts in acknowledgement. "Did Ronyn decide?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Not yet, but I can't stand around kicking dirt waiting for him."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎There's a pause from Arion, a beat of pondering. "You know he'll follow you. He doesn't like the thought of you doing something stupid alone."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I know."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎At the same time as those words leave Morrow's lips, there's a tendril of his wolf and wyng wrapping her creature in their embrace, two auras weaving together as one. The sensations cause her to sink deeper into the sheets, completely at the mercy of the invisible threads of their bond. His link remains open, and she contemplates wandering through the front gates just to read what's on his mind.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Take Cordea and go back to Tabrien," Morrow orders. "Hell knows what fuckery the gammas got into while we've been gone. I trust you more than I trust them."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Arion must agree to Morrow's dictations as the footsteps of his worn leather boots saunter back into the bedroom, a room that's somehow become theirs. She rolls over in the bed, meeting his glowing eyes as he shuts the door behind him. The morning sunlight cascades across her while he hides away in the fleeting shadows of the night.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Arion and Cordea aren't coming?" Elowen asks, sitting up from the sheets.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I offered, but no. Oleander informed me that the blight will be heavy where we need to go, so my beta had to make the choice themselves. They'll go back to Tabrien."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎And from what it sounds like, Ronyn may or may not be joining them.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"You spoke with Oleander?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"If he's going to confide in you, he might as well tell it to me," he cracks his knuckles as he speaks, tilting his head a bit like a curious wolf. "As long as you have that compass, then Thorn won't slice our heads off with a sword."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"You make that sound like it's not a big deal."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Wouldn't be the first time."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Morrow," Elowen breathes, her voice nothing more than a whisper. At the same time, a cloud shelters the sunlight from her skin, and the air stills to a stale frigidness. "If you didn't agree to the witches' offer, then you don't have any lives left to waste. Won't going to Thorn be dangerous for you?"