Emrhys cast one more look at the quiet Priory building nestled in its cocoon of ivy and snow. She hoisted the satchel with its precious phials onto her shoulder, then cast an aura of obscuring to envelop the receiving room and grounds just beyond — a working so strong her legs wobbled and her mind buzzed. Nobody would find Lenore while she prepared to leave. Her sister would have more time to seek sanctuary.
Outside, the air was raw, her breath ghosting in white clouds over her head.
“Is all well?” Sevens rushed to her, eyes wide, worry like a shadow on his normally impassive face.
“She is, and you both have planned everything so wonderfully.” Emrhys staggered where she stood, shaking in exhaustion. Corvus circled an arm around her waist to ballast her. Heat that had nothing to do with restorative potions or warming spells washed over her, quickening her heartbeat.
Emrhys felt her breath catch, fear briefly rising before being swept away by something deeper, warmer. She leaned into Corvus, letting trust silence the lingering doubts.
How had she been so fortunate to find the only person in the world who was like her? He was so kind and perfect and handsome and—
“Emrhys, you look sickly,” Corvus said, a frown wrinkling his brow.
“Well, that’s not very nice.” Emrhys drew a deep breath, then snaked her arms around his neck, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to his night-chilled lips. He stilled in her arms, tall and strong, eyes wide in surprise.
“I really think I might fix us someday. Maybe. When we get to safety,” Emrhys said.
“How? What do we do?” Sevens asked, voice tight with restrained emotion.
“I do not know, but when I do, I’ll share. Are you sure you have dependable contacts across the border?”
“I would not risk this otherwise. And Tanahr is truly a safe place. We will head to Easthaven. I have the name of someone there who might give us quarter—a militia captain one garrison soldier knew through marriage or some such. I have thought this through.” He lifted his chin with a proud smile. “Do youhave everything you need?”
“I do now,” she said. “Before we go, let’s make you look less like one of the Dominion’s most fearsome soldiers.” Emrhys reached up, fingers dancing for a moment at the back of his neck. He leaned back into her touch as she untied his ponytail, smoothing the heavy locks over his back.
Corvus took his seat, then heaved her up onto the saddle in front of him so passers-by would only see his back. He pulled her close, one arm tight over her stomach.
Emrhys’ heart thundered, her head swimming and body humming with giddiness and warmth. They rode as fast as they safely could for an hour in silence. It wasn’t until they were outside of the city that things felt almost real again.
Corvus pressed closer to her than before. She sensed his warmth even through her woolen prison garments, felt his voice rumble against her when he spoke.
“Emrhys, I don’t know how to be a good person,” Corvus said, shivering behind her. “I’m an assassin, an errand boy for all the things nobody else could do. They did not create me for goodness.”
“They forced you to carry out orders given by your general, without your knowing and against your will.” Emrhys scoffed. “You haven’t had time to discover just how truly good you’ll be now that this is behind you.”
Corvus didn’t reply.
Emrhys spoke more softly than before. “We can’t let what they did to ushappen again. We have to make sure of it.”
“No, it must not. I swear I’ll do everything I can to help,” Corvus replied, strength returning to his voice. “Will you stay near me wherever we go? When it’s all done?”
“Where else would I go?” Emrhys sighed quietly, reveling in his warmth. Everything had changed—except the quiet, fierce certainty that whatever came next, they would face it together.
He stirred behind her. Emrhys smiled as he nuzzled her hair, his lips warm as he pressed a kiss to her head. The pitted farm-road stretched ahead, far from priories and academies, from dark and frozen Dominion prisons. Emrhys glanced for a moment into the rising sun, a searing burst of gold on the horizon, Sevens at her back, a fierce joy bright as the dawn in her heart.
Lizzie Sinclaire 