Page 166

He had glanced up from the book when the door clicked open, and without saying a word, I’d crossed the room and curled against his side.

As if understanding exactly what I needed, he’d placed his journal down and wrapped me in his arms. Rythos had fallen asleep beneath my touch sometime after, his lashes lowering slowly, and I kept tracing meaningless patterns over his abdomen long after his breathing had settled into a deep, measured rhythm.

The bond beneath my ribs frightened me more than the coldness of his skin ever could.

Once, his shadows had clawed through me with enough force to steal my breath, but now they barely stirred, a fading pulse of darkness curling weakly around my heart as though even the bond itself was beginning to forget how to hold on.

“We should eat together tonight,” I said softly to Solas, who finally stirred in the chair next to the bed. I forced a lightness into my voice that tasted like ash against my tongue. “All of us.”

Solas’s eyes shone with unshed tears before he swallowed and looked away. “I think he’d like that.”

After a few hours had passed, Solas helped Rythos onto the deck, where we settled on overturned barrels beneath the dying light and passed around dried sticks of jerky that required far more chewing than any food reasonably should.

Rythos’ cold fingers threaded through mine while Helion kept one warm hand resting over my knee, his thumb moving absently against my skin.

“I miss land,” Solas said, tearing another piece of jerky between his teeth. “I’ve cooked better-tasting meals in the Mourning Woods.”

“You stayed in that horrible place?” Aldric asked, his eyes lighting with curiosity.

“Many times, unfortunately.” Solas shrugged. “Though the last was particularly interesting. Ask your sister.” Solas shot me a wink, and I threw my half-eaten jerky at him while my face reddened at the memory of throwing myself at the Commander. It bounced off his chest and rolled across the planks as he laughed.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Rythos’ mouth.

It was small. Barely there. But it was enough to make something inside me ache.

“I thought I taught you to fight better than that, sweetheart,” Solas drawled. “Though I suppose hitting me at all is an improvement.”

Aldric barked a laugh, and it wasn’t the polite, measured sound he used at court when someone important expected him to be amused. His head tipped back, golden hair falling from his forehead as another laugh escaped him.

Rythos huffed a laugh beneath his breath while Helion watched us with a grin.

I stared at them. At Solas looking entirely too pleased with himself. At Aldric smiling without worrying whether someone was watching. At Helion’s hand, warm against my knee, belonging.

At Rythos beside me, alive.

His thumb brushed slowly over my knuckles, and I tightened my fingers around his, trying to memorise the shape of his hand in mine.

The sound of their laughter.

The warmth of Helion pressed against one side of me and the terrible cold of Rythos against the other.

For a few precious minutes, it felt like a family.

A strange, broken collection of people who had somehow found one another at the edge of the world.

One I didn’t want to leave, not after seeing what the shape of a life I might have looked like.

But, I needed to die so they could live.

“I need a drink,” I said, forcing myself to release Rythos’ hand, hating the way his fingers dragged across mine before falling away and Helion’s hand slipped from my knee as I stood.

With my back to the others, I filled the five wooden chalices Solas had placed on a barrel earlier with a dark amber liquid that burned my nose when I sniffed it.

I waited until another burst of laughter distracted them before loosening the leather pouch and letting Cerilla’s herbs fall silently into four of the cups.

The powder disappeared instantly as though betrayal had always meant to be dissolved without leaving a trace.

My hands shook slightly as I passed them out, making sure the bonds in my chest were sealed completely shut.