Chapter 22

Raven

My heart pounded in my ears as I dropped the bow and ran to Neil. “Why did you do that?!” I practically shouted. “You walked right in front of the dummy!”

Neil just shook his head and rose from his crouched position. He looked utterly unfazed despite the fact that an arrow had just grazed his cheek and blood was now trickling down his skin.

“You seem to be improving,” was all he said.

I huffed and reached into my pocket, where I had a small tin of homemade balm—eucalyptus and mint. “Here. Let me put this on your wound, at least.”

The Lycan prince wrinkled his nose. “I’m fine.”

He turned to leave, but I caught his wrist without thinking, causing him to freeze. “Let me,” I ordered.

Neil was still as a statue for a few moments before he slowly turned to me. His eyes flicked down to where my hand was wrapped around his wrist, then to the training dummy with the arrow sticking out of its head, and then he painstakingly met my gaze.

“Fine.”

I let out a small sigh of relief and let go of his wrist. Neil lowered his head while I dipped my finger into the balm and traced it across his cheek.

As I worked, I willed my breathing to remain steady. He was close enough to me that I could smell his breath, the fine sheet of sweat on his bare torso—even a stray black hair grazed my cheek. My wolf couldn’t help but bristle at his proximity, albeit weakly.

What made it even harder, though, was the way that he stared me down as I gently dabbed the ointment onto his wound. Like something behind those piercing eyes was trying to decide between kissing me or mauling me.

Maybe both.

I tried to quell my urge to close the remaining distance between us, although it was no easy feat. But I kept telling myself that I was still disturbed by what I had seen last night—I mean, really, why would I be interested in a man who didn’t care about monogamy?—and besides, I was only doing this to remain on his good side.

By the time I was done, however, my hands were on the verge of shaking.

“There.” I took a step back and slipped the balm back into my pocket. “All better.”

Neil grunted as if in thanks. I half expected him to turn and leave without another word, but he remained there for an extended period of time, just… looking at me.

“What is it?” I asked, feeling some of my earlier annoyance return.

The prince hesitated for a moment, lips parting briefly and then closing again, before he nodded his head in the direction of a nearby storage shed. “I need to talk to you. Privately.”

He didn’t wait for me before he started stalking toward the shed.

I bit my lip and stared after him for a moment. My bow still lay discarded in the dirt, and Ember had instructed me to shoot until my arm gave out—which was still a ways off. If she came back and found that I’d abandoned my task, then she would likely get even more angry with me than she normally seemed to be.

But then again, the prince of Lycan was beckoning to me from the shed door.

Finally, I jogged up to him and slipped inside the shed. The air smelled like warm wood and leather, racks of spears and armor collecting dust in the small shaft of sunlight peeking in through a broken board.

“What’s this about?” I asked wryly. “If you’re looking for a shed hookup, maybe you should ask that lady from last—”

“Your pilot was found.”

Neil’s voice was low, as if afraid that someone might overhear. My eyes widened into discs, but before I could say anything else, he added, “He didn’t survive.”

Suddenly, I felt a sharp lump form in my throat. “Oh. Sharks?” I managed.

He shook his head. “No. My brothers.” I must have looked confused, because he clarified. “They don’t take kindly to outsiders. He was executed.”

I felt as if the shed suddenly began to topple over, so much so that I had to stumble over to a nearby crate to lean on. I shook my head, sucking in deep lungfuls of stale shed air. “Do they… Do they know about me?”

“No. Not yet.” Neil took a step closer. “But that is why it’s imperative that they don’t find out.”

My head bobbed up and down of its own accord, even though my mind was whirling. That poor pilot… “I knew him well,” I muttered, my voice hoarse. “His name was John. He… He flew me on more than one occasion.”

To my surprise, Neil was silent.

He remained silent, even when a sob suddenly wracked my frame.

I clamped my hand over my mouth, turning away. Don’t cry, I urged myself desperately. There was no time for tears—and no one would pity me, anyway. Besides, if Neil’s brothers found out about me…

Then I’d likely end up just like that pilot.

But then, suddenly, something… warm wrapped around me. A pair of bare-skinned arms, muscles taut around my frame.

My eyes widened as I looked up and saw the underside of Neil’s hard jaw. His eyes were fixed on that broken slat in the wall, his brow furrowed.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said.

I couldn’t hold in the next sob that came bubbling up.

Neil held me as I cried. He didn’t have to—I would have expected him not to, actually—but he did. Even though he was tense and silent as if simply waiting for me to stop blubbering, he didn’t let go.

Only once my last hiccups had subsided did he finally pull away.

“Are you alright now?” he asked in that usual gruff voice of his.

I nodded and stood, smoothing down my rumpled training leathers. My cheeks were too flushed to meet his. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to look him in the eye again after that.

When we emerged from the shed, the others were waiting in the training ring. Ember looked like she was raring to shout at me when she saw me come out, but when she saw Neil step out behind me, her face turned red and she immediately whirled in the other direction.

Eric and Castor just laughed until Neil ordered them to run laps.

…

The castle was quiet, the torches low. It was late. I should have been sleeping like everyone else—I’d have to be up for more training in a few hours, so I needed it.

But no matter how hard I tried to sleep, I just couldn’t get the thought of that pilot out of my mind. Executed… Just for being a Werewolf.

I wondered what his last thoughts were before he died. He was terrified, no doubt. Probably exhausted and hungry, too, if he had somehow managed to make his way to shore after the crash. Was he looking for me, or just desperate and just wanting to go home?

It didn’t matter; because now he was dead.

As far as his body went, I didn’t know what had become of it nor did I particularly want to know. I wanted to think that they had buried him, but something in the way that Neil had carefully made sure not to go into the details told me that they hadn’t.

But, selfishly, it wasn’t just the pilot I was mourning over.

It was myself.

Neil had made it clear that if I got caught by his brothers, then I might very well end up just like that pilot.

What I did next was probably the stupidest, most terror-driven thing I had ever done in my entire life. I knew I shouldn’t even do it, but I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t want to end up like the pilot—I wanted to live, dammit.

And so, even knowing that I might just be putting myself in more danger, I tied my sheets and blankets together and climbed out the window. I only packed the essentials in a little bag: a change of clothes, a couple of apples, a jug of water and a bit of bread I’d stashed in my room.

I really was stupid, like a deer running across the road even when it knows a car is coming.

“Going somewhere?” a female voice called out the moment I stepped out of the shadows.

Of course I didn’t make it far. What was I even thinking, imagining that I could escape without being caught?

Gritting my teeth, I began to turn, expecting to see Ember behind me with a look of disappointment on her face.

But before I could move, an arm wrapped around my neck from behind and the cold, sharp blade of a knife was pressed against my throat. Whatever training I’d had over the past week suddenly left my body, leaving me helpless.

How could I have been so fucking stupid?

“Hm. A spy in our midst,” Hannah purred, her breath hot against my ear. “I think I’ll escort you to the King myself.”