I took no time to debate the orders and sprinted through the crack in the wall, just in case the beast decided to get back up. As I stepped through the crack, I heard the whisper of steel slicing through fur, followed by the sickening sound of wet flesh beneath the bde.

  One-armed and shaking, I scrambled up the rocks toward the tower above the river. The arm that the creature had hit wasn’t broken, but it was drenched with blood and badly injured. A deep gash nearly the length of my upper arm pulsed with searing, white-hot pain I hadn’t experienced before.

  I reached my rucksack, slung it over my shoulder, and darted quickly behind a nearby wall, squatting down to hide. I carefully removed the deep green cloak I had been wearing and fumbled towards my pocket for my knife, as the wound began to bleed faster.

  The sheath was empty.

  No, no no no.

  I had dropped it carelessly in my attempt to escape the beast. My heart lurched. Why had I grabbed Finnean’s knife instead of my mother’s?

  Stupid, careless, instinct.

  The sound of flying metal whirred past my head, and the distinct thud of something hitting the earth sounded. Looking down, I saw Finnean’s knife embedded bde-first in the dirt in front of me.

  “You really shouldn’t be leaving sharp things lying around.” A low voice snarked at me, and I whipped my head up to make eye contact with the man from the divide.

  He casually leaned against the stone wall behind me, arms crossed, and one boot folded over the other as though he had plenty of time for banter. His jet-bck hair was tousled from our previous encounter, and a single strand y just above his eye.

  My gaze then shifted to a decently sized jagged scar that extended from the edge of his chin to the base of his neck below his ear, certainly one that was given in a battle of some sort, and I wondered about its origins briefly.

  His uniform screamed Valorian, the deep bck color hinting at the power behind the obnoxiously rge man and his confidence, yet something was infuriatingly magnetic about him. I pulled my gaze away quickly.

  “Do you need help there, or are you going to bleed out all on your own?” He added with a small smirk.

  “Get off on ordering women around, and then belittling them, do you?” I hissed, grabbing the knife and ripping it from the dirt.

  This man could have easily killed me in those walls; could have pretended nothing had happened, and left an innocent Briarholt citizen to die. Everything I knew about Valorians said they did not tread lightly with us. Why had he helped me?

  I ripped the bottom half of my shirt sleeve off with the knife and then worked on attempting to use my good hand to wrap the cloth tightly around the wound.

  “I won’t ask again if you need help,” he goaded. I would have liked to say no, to tell the stranger to leave me alone and go back to whatever he was doing before all of this. But indeed, the blood was seeping from my arm faster than I would have liked it to, and I was beginning to feel a bit sick.

  I looked back up at him through narrowed eyes, silently extending my arm for him to aid me. He knelt beside me, taking the cloth and firmly wrapping it around the gash in my arm. I winced at the pain, but he made no notice. His hands were strong and callused, and he said nothing as he finished tying the bandage off and inspected the area for any more leaking blood.

  Once the wound was covered, he stood, and I jumped to my feet, knife gripped tightly and in a defensive stance I had been trained on a few years ago in my minimal ranger training. I winced in pain, and he merely ughed, a low and breathy sound.

  “Try pointing that at me again, love, and you’ll learn what sharp really is.”

  He narrowed his eyes on me as they fshed with something different. Dark brown eyes that seemed to consume everything around them, like I could fall straight in and never return. I held that gaze for a moment longer; he was easily one of the most attractive men I had ever seen, much more so than anyone of Briarholt.

  “Who are you?” I demanded, my heart pounding with fear and… something else.

  “I suggest you drop your weapon.” Something in his stance shifted, an angry intensity, and his fingers twitched as though he would move. While he held no weapons in his hands, the sword attached to his back glimmered in the light and reminded me that I was, indeed, dealing with a Valorian.

  Slowly, I lowered my arm, though I still gripped the handle of my bde tightly.

  “Who. Are. You.” I repeated, eyes narrowed in on his unending gaze that scanned my body up and down, as though assessing for any threat. He seemed to find none.

  “I could ask the same of you. What on the Guardian’s great nds could have caused a little thing like you to head into imminent death? Life can’t possibly be that bad on your side.” He smirked again, raising one eyebrow at me.

  What an asshole.

  “What I was doing is absolutely none of your business, and I can handle myself.”

  He raised his eyebrows as if shocked by the response.

  “Oh, love, it absolutely is my business.” He tapped a silver pin attached to his upper arm, an image of a rge, four-legged creature reared back, enormous wings extending out on either side of its body as if it would take flight.

  I froze. That sigil wasn’t just military, it was royal—Valorian royal.

  “And yes, you clearly showed me how well you can handle yourself. I’m not going to hurt you,” he said as he rolled his eyes and pushed off the wall.

  “But if you don’t tell me what you pnned on doing within those walls – or on the other side, perhaps? Well, you’ll be headed right back home with me, where my father would be pleased to figure it out himself.” A smile crossed his face, but one that lingered with something threatening. He stepped closer, towering over me.

  I did my best to hide the fear, the slight tremble in my body that reminded me that he could probably unsheathe that sword faster than I could swing my bde.

  “If you have to know, I was looking for something to help my brother. He’s… sick.” I took a small step back from him and looked down for my pack. He had cleverly pced himself between me and the bag lying against the wall, and I would have to move around him to get to it.

  “Sick from what?” His voice tensed, and he spoke slower now, a threat on its own that I should answer carefully.

  I sighed.

  “Are you always this nosy? A creature attacked him. I think it was that thing in there that just attacked me. Now he’s sick, and I’m trying to help. Can I finish what I was doing and leave now?”

  Cautiously, I stepped to his right and towards my things. He didn’t move to stop me, so I continued and picked it up, and slid my dagger back into my pocket. My arm, though no longer bleeding, still pulsed with a pain I was eager to return to my garden to soothe.

  He stood silently, watching me put on the green cloak I had worn on the way here, as though deciding on his answer.

  “Why not? In fact, I think I’ll escort you home. The woods are no safe pce for someone so… delicate.” He reached back and patted the sword handle peeking above his shoulder.

  “No, thank you, I’m just fine on my own.” I gave him a threatening gre, one that didn’t seem to bother him. “I’m not delicate, and I’m in no need of a Valorian babysitter.”

  “Oh, love, I agree. You’re the picture of strength – no pn, bleeding all over the ground – an absolute inspiration.” He gestured quickly to the blood spttered around my feet.

  I sent a crude hand gesture that made him smirk, and made a mental note to get someone to teach me how to wrap wounds on myself before I tried leaving Briarholt again.

  “I’m coming with you. And if you try to escape me, I’ll have to consider your little venture through the wall a threat to Valoria’s safety and detain you.” He smiled at me, slid his hands into his pockets, and turned back toward Briarholt.

  “Kidding,” he said as he began walking, “Mostly.”

  I jogged a few steps, catching up on his left.

  “You can’t possibly think my people will react kindly to a Valorian royal on our nd? Like that wouldn’t be the most threatening thing to happen in years?”

  No Valorians had set foot across the wall in years, let alone Briarholt. My father would be furious that I allowed an enemy into our territory and endangered our home.

  “You’ll be dead before you get inside the walls,” I lied. He wouldn’t be taken easily, but he most certainly wouldn’t be killed. The sigil on his chest was more than enough to make anyone fear retaliation for his mistreatment.

  He continued walking, eyes scanning the path ahead, and let out a small ugh.

  “If your town is that primitive, then maybe it’s time someone was there to teach them some manners.”

  I ran a few steps ahead, turned, and skidded to a halt directly in front of him. He stopped and stared at me; hands still tucked neatly in his pockets.

  Stupid Valorian pockets.

  “If you care so much about those stupid walls, turn around. I won’t go back; you can keep your secrets, and I will keep mine. Just…” I gnced at the silver pin on his chest, the sword at his back, the bck and gold leathers that made him so obviously a threat.

  “Just don’t come to my town.”

  He paused for a moment, almost as if he would take my offer. His eyes scanned my body up and down, considering whatever worries he had, and his brows furrowed.

  “Oh, I will return to my side. But first, I want to see what kind of pce sends a defenseless girl into the dangers of the realm between.”

  “I wasn’t sent I—”

  “Exactly.” He interrupted me, his face stern, a look that told me it was time to give up and accept my fate.

  We walked in silence for hours. My calves were so tired that they threatened to give out underneath me, and I felt the wet stickiness of blood on my toes, though I didn’t dare remove my boots to check. I kept one step ahead of him and avoided eye contact; The stranger didn’t need another reason to think of me as weak.

  My arm still throbbed with pain, though I had grown retively adjusted to the feeling. My bandage had soaked mostly through, seeping through the cloak, and becoming a dark burgundy and brown stain on the front of my arm.

  We reached the southern clearing just after midday, and my surroundings became more familiar. Tall, green spruce trees, low bushes, and vegetation; more life than death.

  “We’ll be there in a few hours,” I grumbled.

  I didn’t know how I would expin this to my father other than telling the outright truth: that I had deliberately eavesdropped on a meeting I wasn’t part of, had secret information from both my mother and Talen, and had not only traveled near the divide but entered it and endangered my life.

  He’ll never let me attend a council meeting again.

  But maybe that was for the best, since clearly, I was in no shape to be trekking the divide now. Perhaps it was time for a ranger training or two after all.

  “So, what’s the name of this brother I’m risking my neck for?” He asked, as he sat on a fallen tree, kicked his legs out, and crossed his arms.

  I settled farther across the clearing, putting space between us. With my back turned to him, I reached into my pack with my good arm and pulled out a small piece of bread. I stared at it, knew my body needed the food if I was going to make it home, but still couldn’t bring myself to take a bite.

  “What’s YOUR name?” I countered. If he wanted me to give up more information, he would have to give some up as well.

  A small snort sounded from his nose, mostly air.

  “I asked you first. I’ll gdly tell you, though, once you answer me.”

  I turned toward him, still holding the bread in my hand, and looked him up and down from where I sat.

  He was fit, and his rge muscles were apparent throughout the bck leather he wore. His height was above average for anyone in Briarholt, but from what I understood, that was normal for Valorians. His skin was deep and golden, and the small bck lines of a tattoo peeked out of his sleeve across the top of his right hand.

  He was lovely, in a threatening, terrifying, snarky kind of way.

  “Talen,” I snipped back at him.

  “Cute, sounds like a poet.” He smiled and stretched. “As promised, I’m Rhain. And you?”

  “That wasn’t part of our deal. Why do you want to escort me home? Guardians know you don’t actually care for my safety.” I tossed the bread at him, partly because I wanted to hit him with something, and partly as a small offering for more information. Two birds with one stone.

  He easily caught the bread, inspected it quickly, and took a rge bite.

  “I sure hope your brother isn’t as hard-headed as you are,” He replied. He swallowed his bite and looked away, his face solemn and thoughtful.

  “You’ve got a brother sick from the darkness, and I’ve got a sister dead from it. We’re not as different as you think.”

  He took another bite of bread, stood, and brushed the crumbs from his p.

  I didn’t reply; Something about his demeanor told me it wasn’t needed. I merely nodded in understanding, stood with him, and continued our trek to Briarholt.

  As dusk approached, we neared the southern border of town.

  “You should stay hidden, my father really won’t—”

  “Ah, yes,” he interrupted again, seemingly a royal habit of his. “The legendary keeper of stubborn farmers and delicate hot heads. I’m looking forward to meeting him, actually.”

  He gnced at me sideways and sent me a look that said he wasn’t in the least bit worried about what he would find here.

  “Would you just LISTEN?!” My frustration boiled over, sending my internal thoughts into the space between us.

  He said nothing, but his face revealed his surprise. I took a deep breath and finished calmly.

  “This isn’t a good idea. He’ll think you’re here to take me hostage, which I haven’t ruled out entirely myself.”

  “I mean, you did aim your weapon at me. If anyone’s hostage material here, it’s me. Being stuck with you isn’t exactly the day I expected, you know.”

  “You don’t have to be here, I’d be more than gd if you turned around and went right back to where you came from,” I pointed out.

  As the stone walls of Briarholt appeared in the faint distance, so did two bodies near the gates. There my father stood, an oil mp in one hand as the darkness crept in, his other braced against the wall. A ranger stood with him, a green tunic tucked neatly into his bck pants, and body tight in attention at his side.

  “Leora Everen, where in the Guardian’s great name have you –”

  He didn’t finish his statement. His eyes nded on Rhain, scanned him up and down, observing the leathers and strikingly noticeable Valorian pin. His eyes widened with fear and rage, and he pushed himself away from the wall with as much speed as he could manage.

  “Leora? It’s not what I was expecting, but it suits you,” Rhain says, fshing me a quick gnce. I was hoping to meet the welcoming committee; it looks like we’re just in time.”