Gavril had gotten the blaze going faster than she expected. She didn’t see what he’d used—he’d put it away before she arrived. Now he poked at the fire to get it higher, but it was as if the dense forest devoured all the air. It was still blessedly warm. Daigo agreed, curled up so close he’d singed his fur.

“The path was still clear enough for me to lead them to where the other guards perished,” Gavril said. “Levi—his body—was gone. I saw something moving in the woods. I saw those blasted boots of his and someone called his name. And then . . .” Gavril gripped the hilt of his sword. “There was a scream, and I didn’t see anything until they had Levi on the ground. But it wasn’t Levi at all. It was . . .”

“A shadow stalker.”

He grunted. “That’s what the others said. They killed it . . . or expelled it, I suppose. Then the forest erupted with smoke and shadows. It wasn’t like with Levi. There wasn’t even time to scream.”

“Levi was their decoy. They’re predators, not mindless—”

“I don’t know what happened. I was at the back with Orbec. The shadows fell on everyone and . . . Orbec told me to run. I saw an arm in the fray, and I grabbed for it and . . .” He stopped, his gaze unfocused, trapped in the memory. “By the time I pulled, that’s all there was. An arm. Orbec dragged me out of there. We ran. It felt like cowardice, and I know . . .”

He trailed off then. Moria knew his father had been exiled for cowardice. Instead of ordering his men to retreat, he’d supposedly escaped alone under the cover of sorcery.

Gavril poked the fire with a stick. “We found the stream. And then the shadows came and fell on Orbec. I ran to help him, but I slipped. I hit my head on the rocks. When I woke up, he was dead. I knew I had to get away, in case he came back as one of them. I crawled until I passed out.”

After a few moments of silence, he said, “You’re wrong about the village.”

“Can we not talk about that?”

“You seem upset—”

“Seem upset? My village is gone. I know you didn’t care about anyone there—”

His eyes darkened. “Of course I cared. I lived there for—”

“No, you existed there. You made no effort to get to know—”

“Shhh.”

“Are you shushing me? I—”

He lunged and grabbed her, his hand clamping over her mouth.

While the temptation to bite him was overwhelming, this did seem an extreme measure to stop her talking, and thus suggested something else was wrong. Also, he smelled. Of filth and sweat and blood. She didn’t want to discover what he tasted like. When he relaxed, she peeled his fingers away.

“I heard something,” he whispered.