LOGINChapter 53: The Salt and the IronLyra's POVMara’s finger shook as she pointed down a goat trail. Mud was packed under her nails, wrists red and raw from those leather binds. Still, she never lagged. “The sea-gate. That path leads to the salt vaults. But Vane’s got cold-iron suppression stones set up over the archway.”I glanced at Nadia. She crouched in the bracken, hood pulled low, moonlight making her look almost ghostly. But her violet eyes? Calm, sharp as razors. You could tell she was ready.“Cold-iron cuts you off from your wolf,” she said, rummaging through her satchel. She pulled out a little oilcloth bundle and untwined it, revealing that familiar, stinging powder—sulfur-root and mountain vitriol. “When I blow this into the vault’s air draft, it eats the ward stones. Quick, but we don’t have much time before someone notices.”“That’s all I need,” I growled, fingers wrapped tight around my broadsword.The panic back at the charcoal shed? Gone. Now it was fury, cold and focus
Chapter 52: The Ridge Nadia's POVMara rode in the middle, looking drained and defeated. Those leather cords around her wrists were soaked and tight. Her lead rope was clipped to Lyra’s saddle. Her dark red hair was plastered to her face, dripping, hiding her expression. She kept her head down, shoulders hunched—didn’t so much as shiver, just stared at nothing.Whenever Mara’s horse slipped, Lyra’s hand went right to his sword. His knuckles were pale as snow, and I could feel his nerves buzzing through our mate bond. Where I usually felt warmth from him, now it was like sharp electricity—tense, raw, ready for disaster. He was terrified of waking up with a blade at his throat.With each step, I felt a sting on my collarbone—the lingering scratch from Mara’s stiletto. Did I hate her? Not really. But I definitely didn’t trust her. I watched the way she moved, the way she breathed. Down here, trust was nothing but wishful thinking.“We stop here,” Lyra said, low and rough.He pointed to
Chapter 51 - The Clock and the CageNadia POVThe room was now in use as a war meeting room.Valerius stood by the door, jaw clenched. Mara sat on a small wooden stool in the middle of the room. I had made sure her chains were removed. However, she hunched over, head hanging low. Her hands were free, but she was slumped over."You have twenty minutes, Mara. Tell us everything you know about the handover." Lyra said, his voice monotone, with no hint of anger inside. He leaned over the pine table, large hands pressed onto the edges of the leather map.Mara gulped. "They gave me a deadline. Cassian's men said if I didn't do it by midnight, then they wouldn't give me anything. The handover point isn't in River-Run; it's sixty miles south. At a Watch Tower on the coast called Black-Rock Point."Valerius frowned. "Old Iron Fort. It's on a jagged cliff overlooking the seas. It's been abandoned since the Great Wards were built."Mara shook her head. "No. Cassian's personal guard uses it to k
Chapter 50: The Break and The Anchor Nadia's POV The tiny back room was in disarray. Pine wall panels lay broken everywhere. The air hung thick with the metallic tang of blood. Valerius had chained Mara down in the dry storeroom below with heavy guards. But up here, the silence was deafening. I sat on the edge of the bunk bed, dabbing my collarbone with a damp, clean cloth. My hands were still shaky. Not from the pain of the blade but from the blood pumping through my veins with adrenaline. Lyra hadn't said a word since they had taken Mara. He stood with his back to the dark wood wall. His wide hands were pressed against the rough oak. His head hung low between his shoulders. His bare chest rose and fell with ragged breaths. His golden eyes were dull. Scared of him more than his animalistic anger. "Lyra," I whispered. He didn't move. "I was asleep." His voice was frighteningly low and raspy. "I was three feet away from you, asleep. Your throat was slit with a blad
Chapter 49 - The Shadow in the RaftersNadia's POV Lyra was sound asleep on his low wooden bunk in the corner of the room, his large frame covered by a rough woollen blanket. His breathing was deep and slow.I was unable to sleep.Using the faint light given off by the short tallow candle, I sat at the small pine table by the single shuttered window to cut up the dried stalks of mountain silver leaf using my stiff fingers. I needed to prepare doses for the fevered children living in the slums below.A soft feeling of calmness filled my chest as I felt Lyra’s bond with me. It pulsed to the rhythm of his breathing. And for the first time in days, there was no wind in the air.The candle flickered.There was no wind coming from the window. The wooden shutters were bolted tight. But there was a slight change in air pressure in the room as it gently dropped from the open rafters.Before I had time to turn my head, I felt a gloved hand cover my mouth from behind and pull my head back onto
Chapter 48: The Ash and the SoilNadia's POV My hands were stained dark brown. Not by ink or blood, but by the crushed paste of the dried elder bark and wild willow roots I had been making salves with for the last two hours. My fingers were stiff and sore from the damp cold air.On the other side of the small fire, Lyra sat against the rough granite wall.He hadn’t taken his dark leather brigandine off but had loosened his sword belt. His broadsword rested across his knees. In his grip was a small whetting stone as he slowly dragged it along the length of his blade.The repetitive noise was calm and steady, but when I looked into his mind through the mate bond, I could feel the storm raging inside of him. The golden glow that normally shimmered between us was jagged and dark. He had a dense, simmering rage bubbling within him since crossing the Southern border post."You’ll see that blade right down to a needle if you keep that up," I sighed, placing my clay pot onto a flat stone.T







