Chapter 28
28 Chapter 28 A Dangerous Kind of
Safety
Faye’s POVR
“Why do I have to come?” I demanded, my voice sharp with frustration. Hardy had just announced they were returning to the pack territory, and apparently I would be accompanying him. Just the two of us.
I watched his expression remain unreadable, those storm-gray eyes giving nothing away. Quickly, I added, “I mean, we’ve already crossed the borders. Even if I wanted to go back, how could I possibly make the journey undetected? I don’t have a wolf. I’d collapse from exhaustion long before we reached the territory p>
Hardy’s gaze never wavered. “Isn’t that exactly the point? To verify whether the map you provided is genuine p>
The truth hit me like a physical blow. Of course. This wasn’t about trust or partnership. From his perspective, I could have handed him a complete
fabrication, a carefully crafted trap designed to lead
him into an ambush. If the map proved false, it
wouldn’t simply be an error. It would be concrete evidence of my betrayal. Follow current novᴇls on ͟.net
Taking me along wasn’t an act of faith. It was insurance. If the map was counterfeit, I would be the one to face the consequences.
They had made camp for the evening, a short distance from the border. The forest pressed in around them, thick and oppressive, alive with sounds that made my skin crawl. Rain had begun falling again, drumming against the canvas covers of their supplies and turning the ground beneath their feet into treacherous mud.
I stared at the waterlogged path stretching ahead of them, then back at Hardy. While I didn’t object to accompanying him, something still puzzled me. “In this weather? We’re leaving now?” How was I supposed to keep pace with him when I lacked his supernatural strength and endurance?
But Hardy appeared completely unbothered by the storm raging around them. The cold and wet seemed to roll off him like he was made of stone rather than
flesh.
Gradually, understanding dawned on me. Perhaps he
didn’t want to reveal certain secrets to the others? After all, to him I remained an outsider. A potential enemy wearing a false smile and carrying stolen intelligence.
His voice cut through the sound of rainfall. “We’re close to where the Raven Deons launched their last
assault p>
My breath caught in my throat.
“If they have any tactical sense, they’ll strike again tonight. Another ambush p>
Fear tightened around my chest like a vice. “What p>
Hardy shrugged as if discussing the weather. “Extended travel exhausts soldiers. Weary men become vulnerable targets. We’ve been moving for most of the day. They’re counting on our fatigue. That’s precisely why we need to move now. While chaos provides cover p>
Before I could form any response, he was already
stepping into the rain, pulling his hood up against the downpour. The carriage door swung shut behind him with a soft click.
Then silence.
He stood waiting in the storm, one hand extended
toward me.
I stared at his outstretched palm, then at the soldiers nearby. Naturally, they all recognized my identity. My heavy cloak concealed most of my features, but it made no difference. Everyone around the convoy had seen me. Hardy’s newest bride. His wife.
I recognized several faces among them. Parker, along with some of the lieutenants I had helped treat during their injuries. Their eyes flickered in my direction, expressions carefully neutral.
Hardy remained silent, his hand still waiting.
I stepped out and grasped it.
He didn’t lead me far, just away from the main group and down a gentle slope where the guard presence thinned and torchlight grew scarce. The trees
their trunks.
“Do the others know?” I asked quietly, my words barely audible over the rainfall.
“About the expected attack?” he replied, still gripping my hand. “Yes p>
We continued walking deeper into the darkness.
To any observer, we might have appeared like lovers stealing a romantic moment in the woods. The thought made me flinch, though it also brought
unexpected warmth to
my
cheeks.
“Aren’t they afraid?” I pressed.
Hardy maintained his steady pace. “Fear is normal. Preparation makes the difference p>
“But the Raven Deons fight differently. They have no regard for their own lives. No families to protect, no genuine loyalty, no purpose beyond causing
destruction. They embrace death like an old friend, and that makes them incredibly dangerous. They may not match your people’s strength, but they never
28 Chapter 28 A Dangerous Kind of Safety
hesitate. They attack without fear or restraint.” That relentless brutality made them nearly impossible to
stop.
“You’re becoming quite talkative,” he observed suddenly, glancing at me with a slight tilt of his head.
I immediately fell silent.
Without warning, he pulled me against him. I
stumbled, my body colliding with his solid chest. His cloak was damp and cold, but his arms felt steady and secure around me.
My eyes lifted to meet his. Storm-gray and intense, slightly narrowed as he studied my face.
“Are you afraid of me?” he asked.
“I—” Was I? Absolutely. I had no desire to join his collection of dead wives. “Should I be afraid of something else p>
I heard his low chuckle in response.
“You’re terrible at deception,” he said before adding, “Don’t worry, I won’t allow anyone to harm you p>
My lips parted, but no words emerged.
Before I could react, he bent down and lifted me
effortlessly. One arm swept under my knees, the other supporting my back. As if I weighed nothing at all. As if I was precious cargo worth protecting.
“What are you doing?” I stammered, startled by the
sudden movement.
He offered no explanation. He simply began walking through the rain, carrying me through the forest as if this was perfectly logical behavior.
Without warning, he broke into a run. The trees became a blur of motion, shadows streaking across my vision until I squeezed my eyes shut. Rain lashed against my cloak and stung my exposed skin, but his body shielded me from the worst of it. His grip remained firm without being harsh. Surprisingly gentle.
I had expected the cold to penetrate his clothing, but his body radiated warmth. Solid and reassuring. The rhythm of his movement was smooth and controlled, each step calculated and efficient.
I wasn’t supposed to find comfort in this. But I did.
Wrapped in his arms, moving through the darkness with only rainfall and his heartbeat filling my ears, I felt something unexpected. Not exactly safety, but not danger either. Like I was being protected. Guarded.
We ran for what seemed like hours. Through dense woodland, over uneven ground, past the final glimmers of torchlight from our camp.
Gradually, he began to slow. His boots crunched softly against wet gravel as he came to a complete stop. He lowered me carefully to the ground, setting me on my feet with surprising gentleness. I adjusted my cloak and looked around, brushing damp hair from my face.
We stood at the edge of something vast. Behind us, the
forest loomed dark and wild. But ahead stretched a
familiar cliff. Just beyond it, I could see the Trion Cato.
The waters spread wide and dark, twisting like veins across the landscape, fed by distant mountains. These rivers cut through multiple territories, some branches reaching all the way to the capital. But this particular river below us flowed directly through our pack’s borders.
My breath seized in my throat. We were back. This was the border’s edge. The realization struck like lightning.
I tensed, every muscle going rigid. My eyes scanned the treeline for movement, guards, scouts, patrol units. Nothing yet. But they could be close. I was standing at the very place I had fled from not long ago.
Hardy remained silent at first. I wanted to ask why we had come here, what purpose this served. But I kept quiet.
Instead, I watched as he moved toward the cliff’s edge, his gaze fixed on the territory beyond.
“This is where the map leads,” he said finally. His voice was low but clear, steady despite the wind and rain. “Right here p>
Before Hardy could continue, a strange sound pierced the stillness. A low hiss. Soft initially, almost like wind through wet leaves, but then growing sharper and more pronounced. My nose wrinkled in disgust.
The stench followed moments later. Decay. Thick and unnatural. Like something dead had been rotting underground for days and was now seeping into the
air around us.
Before I could process what was happening, he was already moving. He pulled me close, tight against his chest, one arm locked around my waist while the other reached behind him. I couldn’t see what he grabbed, but within seconds he had thrown the edge of his cloak around us both, shielding our faces.
My hands clutched the front of his shirt as I pressed against him, eyes wide with terror.
“Poison,” he hissed.
Morh Lucia
Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.