Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Aneira

The first few hours passed quietly.

Snow crunched beneath our boots as we followed a narrow trail winding through the mountains. The air smelled sharp, carrying pine, frost, and little else. Every so often Darius would glance behind us to check our tracks before continuing forward without a word.

It should have been awkward.

I was willingly following a wolf I barely knew into the territory I had spent months avoiding.

Instead, it was strangely easy.

Annoying, but easy.

Darius seemed perfectly comfortable with silence. He walked ahead of me most of the time, occasionally pointing out safer paths through deeper snow or warning me when the trail narrowed along the cliffs.

By midday the storm had weakened enough for pale sunlight to spill across the mountains.

I was beginning to think we might make it several hours without speaking when Darius suddenly said,

“So.”

I immediately regretted thinking that.

“So?” I repeated.

He glanced over his shoulder.

“Are you ever going to tell me your real name?”

My steps faltered slightly.

The rogue grinned.

“Thought so.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sage.”

The way he said it made it sound ridiculous.

“It suits you.”

“It is a perfectly good name.”

“It is a fake name.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“You robbed me.”

“You lied to me.”

“You robbed me first.”

“Fair.”

Darius hopped over a fallen log and continued walking.

“Still doesn’t answer my question.”

I adjusted the strap of my bag.

“What question?”

“Your name.”

I stared at the back of his head.

He waited.

Apparently indefinitely.

When it became clear he wasn’t giving up, I sighed.

“Aneira.”

Darius glanced back.

“Aneira.”

Something about hearing someone say it without mockery felt unexpectedly foreign.

Most wolves in Ashfang had always managed to make it sound like an insult.

The rogue nodded once.

“It’s pretty.”

I nearly tripped.

Darius laughed immediately.

“Oh, that’s interesting.”

“Don’t.”

“You hate compliments.”

“I do not hate compliments.”

“You absolutely hate compliments.”

“I hate your compliments.”

Unfortunately, that only made him laugh harder.

By midday, the familiar landscape surrounding my cottage had disappeared behind us.

That was when the nerves started.

At first it was subtle.

A tightness in my stomach.

A constant awareness of the direction we were traveling.

Every step pointed toward Ashfang. I hated how easily my mind remembered that place.

The winding roads.

The sound of wolves filling the market square during busy mornings.

I had spent months convincing myself that Ashfang no longer mattered.

Now every mile proved otherwise.

The second day brought signs of civilization. Old hunting markers appeared carved into tree trunks, weathered by years of snow and wind. We passed abandoned watch posts overlooking narrow valleys and found fresh wagon tracks cutting through the frozen earth where merchants had recently traveled between territories.

By evening, I recognized landmarks I hadn’t seen since fleeing.

The realization settled heavily in my chest.

I was close.

Far too close.

Darius seemed to notice the change in me but, for once, didn’t comment on it.

For that alone, I was grateful.

We reached the outer villages shortly after sunrise on the second day.

Darius slowed as the first signs of Ashfang appeared through the trees.

I frowned.

“Why are we stopping?”

He glanced toward the distant village before looking back at me.

“Because this is where I leave you.”

My stomach dropped.

“What?”

A crooked smile pulled at his mouth.

“Relax. I’m not abandoning you. I’m just not stupid enough to walk willingly into Ashfang.”

“I completed my half of the deal. Here,” he said, pulling a scroll from inside his coat and handing it to me. “This is the object you’re looking for.”

I took it cautiously, narrowing my eyes.

“You could have asked me to make a scent-masking tonic for you too.”

Darius laughed.

“I could have.”

I didn’t bother asking any questions.

The less I knew about whatever questionable plans he had, the better.

Besides, I had my own priorities.

Supplies.

If I was risking my life by coming back here, I was at least leaving with enough herbs to make it worthwhile.

“Look, I’m a wanted criminal around here,” Darius said with a grin. “They don’t need a scent to recognize me.”

I snorted.

“That’s reassuring.”

“I try.”

He adjusted the strap across his shoulder before nodding toward the village beyond the trees.

“I’ll be staying at one of the inns outside the territory.”

“You already planned that?”

“Unlike some people, I occasionally think ahead.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Meet me back here tomorrow at sunrise,” he continued. “If you’re not here, I’ll assume you’ve been arrested.”

“How comforting.”

“If you’ve been killed, I’ll be disappointed.”

“Disappointed?”

“Finding another healer sounds exhausting.”

I stared at him.

He grinned.

For a brief moment, neither of us moved.

Then Darius stepped backward toward the trees.

“Good luck, Sage.”

“Aneira.”

Something softened briefly in his expression.

“Good luck, Aneira.”

Then he turned and disappeared into the forest.

And just like that, I was alone.

The silence felt different without him there.

Less annoying.

Also, somehow, less comforting.

He had spent the last two days talking just enough to be annoying and helping just enough to be useful. Somewhere along the journey, I had grown accustomed to his presence.

Which was unfortunate.

I tightened my grip on the strap of my bag and looked toward the distant village.

My stomach twisted.

Taking a slow breath, I pulled my coat tighter around myself and lowered my head slightly, hoping the shadow of the hood would conceal most of my face.

Then I started walking.

The scent-masking tonic was working.

At least, I hoped it was.

Every wolf who walked past me felt like a test I was somehow failing.

Nobody looked twice.

Nobody stopped.

Nobody recognized me.

Still, I kept waiting for it.

For someone to stare too long.

For a patrol wolf to grab my arm.

Nothing happened.

The village carried on around me completely unaware.

Merchants arranged goods outside their stalls while pups darted between crowded streets. The scent of fresh bread drifted from nearby bakeries.

The normalcy of it all felt almost surreal.

Standing here now, the village looked exactly the same.

Only I had changed.

The market was already crowded by the time I arrived.

I was reaching toward a bundle of dried moonroot when a voice cut through the crowd behind me.

“Aneira?”

My blood turned to ice.

Slowly, very slowly, I turned around.

And found myself staring directly into Lyra’s shocked face.