A thought pops into my mind and I frown. “Darius, how did you find me?”
His face shutters, and his lips tighten. “I felt you.”
Humming, I nod to myself.
He opens his mouth, hesitates, then says, “Lena, that pain...” He shakes his head in bafflement. “It was indescribable.”
“Yes, it is,” I reply quietly, walking to the adjacent wall and resting my head back with a sigh.
“Why are you here, Lena?” No answer forthcoming, he prowls towards me. “It's not for trading leather. I haven't seen you approach a single vendor since you arrived.”
I know what he's doing. Can feel his calculation through the bond. I’m cracked raw, vulnerable. He knows this and is using it to his advantage. I've evaded every personal question he’s thrown at me, but it seems his patience is long gone. And laid bare as I am, I'm simply too tired to fight him on it, so I neither agree nor disagree.
“Are you in trouble?” Silence. “Are you running from someone?” Nothing. Lifting an arm, his movements are aggravated as he swipes a hand through his hair. “Let me help you.”
I meet his eyes. “If anyone could help, it would be you, but you can't. No one can. This journey is for me and me alone.”
He steps into my space, his blue eyes searching my own. “It doesn't have to be that way.”
Placing both hands on his chest, I rise up to my toes and press a soft kiss to his bristled cheek. “I wish that was true,” I whisper in his ear. Then, I slip between him and the wall, heart aching in loneliness as I stride down the alley without a backwards glance.
Chapter 17Lena
Knees bent and back relaxed, my boots absorb the impact as I land on the balls of my feet outside the Seboia wall. Hardly a moment passes before two pairs of feet touch down beside my own; Amara and Tristan's landing is muffled by the grassy terrain.
“Oh, shit!” a male voice whisper-shouts before Zander’s large body streaks through the air, hurtling past us to collide with the ground. His less than graceful fall and the ensuing oomph rings through the night as if a toll to a bell.
“Be quiet!” Tristan shushes. Peering down the narrow stretch of grass, he crouches down, searching through the trees of the Cursed Woods.
Zander pushes up to all fours and hangs his head. His winded breaths fill the silence for several moments until he groans, rolling onto his backside and eyeing Tristan with a withering look. “Oh, I’m sorry! How inconsiderate of me to not think of you while suffering through the pain of my face breaking my fall.”
“Very selfish,” Tristan replies, oblivious to Zander’s sarcasm as he cocks his head to the side, listening for any signs of the guards. “Do try to be more cautious in the future.”
Zander’s lips thin. “I'll do my best.”
Lowering the hood of my cloak, I scan the forest. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone around to hear you so that's something, at least.”
Bounding to his feet, Zander is no worse for wear as he rolls his shoulders and joins Tristan to walk the treeless stretch of land between the wall and the Cursed Woods. Amara and I follow closely behind.
“There wouldn’t have been anything to hear if someone had actually controlled my fall like they were supposed to do,” Zander says, tossing an accusing glare over his shoulder.
Amara and I laugh.
“Don't waste your breath on those two,” Tristan says, shaking his head. “They just can't help themselves.”
Eyes straying to the top of the wall, Zander’s expression falls with a mournful sigh. “I wish I could fly over,” he murmurs, his somber words traveling to me on a whisper of wind.
My own smile slips at the sight and I stride towards him and wrap my arms around his waist. “So do I,” I say, pinching his side with a teasing smirk, wishing to rid him of his dour mood.
His lips quirk and he tosses an arm over my shoulder as we trail behind the others.
“I wish we didn't have to go over at all,” Tristan says quietly.
“Maybe we wouldn't have had to if Lena wasn't so busy sticking her tongue down Darius' throat.” Zander laughs at my answering scowl and with eyes sparkling in mischief, he drags me against his chest, licking a hot, moist trail from my chin to my forehead.
“Ugh!” Shoving him off, I swipe away his disgusting slobber while Zander’s quiet laugh morphs into a howl.
“Quiet! Someone might hear us,” Tristan hisses over his shoulder.
Zander tosses his arms out, gesturing around us. “Who's going to hear us? There’s no one out here.”
“You don't know that.”
Amara rolls her eyes and points at me. “She does.”
“We’re alone,” I confirm. Peering into the woods, I watch the beams of moonlight flit playfully through the leaves of the swaying trees before being devoured by the all-consuming shadows. Spreading my senses out further, I feel no souls of any kind. Frowning at the peculiarity of the lack of life, I focus on my more common senses. Straining my ears, I expect to hear buzzing insects or scurrying rodents, typical sounds of a forest brimming with life, but I find nothing.
It's quiet. Too quiet.
“Aren’t there supposed to be guards out patrolling?” I ask, feeling needle-like pricks crawling along my skin. A sensation easily dismissed, if I hadn't already been well acquainted with the ominous manifestation.
“Yes.” Tristan’s gaze sweeps through the trees with a hardened jaw, just as wary as I am with the eerie silence. “Usually this is a heavily guarded area, but someone has been altering the patrol schedule. There's been several occasions in the last few days where only two or three guards are on duty. Or in some cases, none at all.”
“That can't be safe,” Amara adds, her lips turned down into a frown.
“It's not,” Tristan agrees, stepping over a windswept branch. “It usually takes two to three immortals to defeat one Soulless. If a guard has to fight any more than that, they would most likely be killed.”
“Do they have any idea who’s doing it?” I ask.
