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Chapters (61)
  1. Dedication
  2. Prologue
  3. Ashyn: One
  4. Two
  5. Three
  6. Four
  7. Five
  8. Six
  9. Seven
  10. Eight
  11. Moria: Nine
  12. Ten
  13. Eleven
  14. Twelve
  15. Thirteen
  16. Ashyn: Fourteen
  17. Fifteen
  18. Sixteen
  19. Moria: Seventeen
  20. Eighteen
  21. Nineteen
  22. Twenty
  23. Twenty-one
  24. Twenty-two
  25. Ashyn: Twenty-three
  26. Twenty-four
  27. Twenty-five
  28. Twenty-six
  29. Twenty-seven
  30. Twenty-eight
  31. Twenty-nine
  32. Thirty
  33. Moria: Thirty-one
  34. Thirty-two
  35. Thirty-three
  36. Thirty-four
  37. Thirty-five
  38. Thirty-six
  39. Thirty-seven
  40. Ashyn: Thirty-eight
  41. Thirty-nine
  42. Forty
  43. Forty-one
  44. Forty-two
  45. Forty-three
  46. Forty-four
  47. Forty-five
  48. Forty-six
  49. Forty-seven
  50. Forty-eight
  51. Forty-nine
  52. Moria: Fifty
  53. Fifty-one
  54. Fifty-two
  55. Fifty-three
  56. Fifty-four
  57. Fifty-five
  58. About the Author
  59. Back Ad
  60. Credits
  61. About the Publisher

His eyes held something she’d never seen there before. Genuine concern. His voice was soft, and she wished he would shout. She wished he would snap and yell and call her a foolish child again, because somehow this was worse. Giving her hope where there was none.

“My father is dead. I watched him rise as a shadow stalker and try to kill me. I expelled the thing from his body, and then I ran through my village and there was nothing but bodies and blood, and that was no nightmare.”

“Then why would you come back into the forest?”

“Because my sister—” She inhaled. “I thought I saw Ashyn and Tova, and we followed, but they were some sort of phantasm.”

She steeled herself for Gavril’s arguments, but he only stood there, an odd look on his face.

“A phantasm of your sister led you into the forest?”

“Yes, and don’t tell me I was sleep-blind. I never went to bed. Ashyn and I were at the cells with the captive, Ronan. I went up and . . . I found what had happened to the village. To my father. I saw Ashyn and Tova running. Daigo saw them, too.” She looked at Gavril. “He’s a Wildcat of the Immortals. My bond-beast. If I were fevered or running from a nightmare, he’d know it. Now I need to get back to the village. I need to help Ashyn. I left her in the cells, and I can only pray she’s still there, safe, and—”

“Moria . . .”

Her back tightened as he used her name. Call me Keeper, she thought. Shout at me. Curse me. It suits you better. This . . . It feels like pity. You called me a child before. Now you’re treating me like one.

“Your breeches are wet.”

“What?”

He eased back on his heels. “You’ve gotten wet in the stream. You should dry off. Build a fire. Rest a little. You’re tired. You haven’t slept since the Seeking. You’re cold and you’re wet and you think you’ve seen—”

“I have seen.”

He coughed, as if physically choking back a response, then winced as if the cough hurt his head. “All right. But whatever has happened, you need to get through this forest, and for that, you must be dry and rested. Let me build you a fire.”

She looked up at him. His words were kind, but his face was unreadable, as if he was struggling to be nice. Why?

Because he needed her. He was lost and wounded.

“I can’t stop,” she said. “Ashyn—”

“Whatever has happened, Ashyn needs you to get out of this forest. You can’t do that if you collapse from exhaustion. I’ll start a fire. It’ll take a moment. Wash that mud from your face. You’ll feel better.”

Nineteen

Nineteen