Page 105 of Obsidian Throne
We were careful to avoid town. When we needed supplies, we sent the unbranded wives and daughters with my purse to get whatever little excess there was.
It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was more than they were used to having, so I forced myself to be content with it as well.
And again, I promised myself they would live a different sort of life soon.
Each moment was more tenuous than the last, and I found myself holding my breath more often than not. Waiting for the moment the sky darkened, or for the soldiers to discover us and ruin the element of surprise we so desperately needed.
Every now and then, we would see Elk or Wolf soldiers making trips back to Hymi for one reason or another. So, I found myself scouting and constantly checking in with the sentries to be sure none of them were getting too close.
Their attention was fixed solely on the estate. On getting through the walls. Still, I kept my hair hidden and my hood pulled low. We couldn’t take any chances.
But every day we hid and waited to strike, another piece of me broke off and shattered.
Every day, I heard about the death toll and wondered who was counted among those bodies, and every day, I wondered if we would be too late. If I was making the right choice.
But we only got one shot at this.
Finally, I felt the prickling of an oncoming storm.
Finally, it was time to don my armor.
Marita, one of the wives, helped me to fasten it in all the right places.
Energy thrummed off each stone as it connected to my skin. It hummed against my body, sending waves of warmth through me as it amplified every sensation that the oncoming storm had ignited.
I was acutely aware of how heavy the storm clouds were, the freezing rain that was desperate and ready to break free from them, how fast the wind was moving, and even the lightning that crackled through the sky, ready to strike.
Wearing the armor was entirely different than merely touching the stones had been. Now they connected to my skin in several places at once, and I didn’t think the placement was random.
The stones hovered over pulse points and nerve endings at my neck, my wrists, even my ankles, like they were connecting whatever awareness was in me directly to the elements outside.
It was an effort to focus past the sensation to this moment, but eventually, the weather faded to the back of my mind.
When she was finished with the last clasp, I rolled my shoulders to get a better feel for the armor. It was a testament to Rayan’s skill that it was practically weightless. The metal tunic and pants appeared to blend together seamlessly as if they were one solid piece.
A long stretch of black fur wound like a sash around my left shoulder, tying at my right hip, making the effect both feminine and powerful in addition to the necessary warmth it offered. I buckled my double baldric into place and sheathed my new, impressive sabers.
Marita braided my hair in the long fishtail style that she and the other women with the Unclanned favored. A warrior’s braid, she called it.
When she was finished, she handed me my helmet. It was sturdy, but flexible, fitted around the top of my head and coming down to cover my nose and cheekbones, with spaces for my eyes.
When I looked in the river at my reflection, I barely recognized myself.
I felt strong. Untouchable.
Furious energy coursed through my veins, more than just the hyper awareness of the storm. It was the sure knowledge that after everything, I was finally here, going into battle.
I only hoped I wasn’t too late.
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
ROWAN
It was still hours from dawn when I crept through the forest ahead of my men. They were coming in from all angles, moving silently even on the brittle pine needles and icy forest floor.
As I stared at the battlefield below, it wasn’t hard to dredge up the emotion I would need to make this work. Even in the darkness of the ominous cloud covering, it was plain to see that Wolf and Elk had breached the gates.
The castle would fall. And with it, my friends.My husband.