Half Wylde | Book 1

Forty One: Patience

It killed me to be alone with my thoughts.

Thain was alive at least. I wasn't too worried, I knew how strong he was, but when he never caught up to Schula and me it was unsettling. And surely Eberon was safely with him too.

But I still worried that my newfound lineage would break apart my only recently healed friendship with Thain. And what of Eberon? He seemed to care quite a bit about status, would this sway his views of me too? Schula. She probably already knew, and now I didn't know where she was, but I was so worried for her. I didn't like Asher and DuVarick reacting to her the way they did, and all I could do was hope she was okay.

But despite all my worries I was still hopeful. If anyone could find us it would be Thain. I held onto that hope.

All the highs and lows I felt were tying my stomach into a knot. I tossed and turned as I tried to get some more sleep, but it never came.

Nassir was no better. He had remained quiet since our meeting with Puko. Whatever was running through his head took up all his concentration and he barely said a word all night. Or day? Evening? And he didn't eat much either.

Both of us were a wreck.

And then, all too soon, I felt someone outside the door again.

Laying on the cool ground I clenched my jaw and waited to see who it was.

My chest tightened with Asher's familiar presence pushed against me. The door opened, but the light didn't blind me quite as badly as it had before thanks to my fire. I was able to see him in more relaxed clothes, similar to what DuVarick wore before but not as embellished.

He sneered down at me where I had been trying to sleep near the doorway. I reached out with my power to feel for Nassir, but he was already long gone.

"Come on," Asher growled and grabbed my braid to pull me up.

I bit back a scream and he hauled me over a shoulder again and carried me away.

The moment I was out the door it felt like I was punched in the gut. The sudden urge to go somewhere nagged at me. It was probably the panic of being hauled away again, I needed to get away.

"Stop squirming or I'll take one of your thumbs," Asher said calmly as though he was commenting on nothing more interesting than the weather.

I sucked in a breath and obeyed, but it was hard. The restlessness only grew stronger the further we went.

Instead of dwelling on the uncomfortable sensation, I instead tried to memorize where we were going. The intricate hallways made that nearly impossible though, and there was little variation on the walls that would make memorable landmarks. The same dusty portraits and gruesome battles were depicted on canvas after canvas as Asher hauled me to my fate.

Finally, we were back at that familiar doorway to DuVarick's office, or whatever it was, and Asher dropped me on the carpet.

DuVarick stood at a bookshelf, reading something, with his back to the room. He didn't look up as he ordered, "Leave us."

Asher didn't argue, he simply closed the door and I felt his suffocating and aggressive aura leave.

The King of Winter was dressed more regally today. He still had no shirt, but his chest was draped with gold today, and his kilted garments were adorned with jewels. The crown atop his head had wicked points, reminding me of the mountains surrounding Icehold.

I stood, but I didn't dare say anything while DuVarick thumbed through the pages of a thick tome. He let the silence drag on while he studied the pages in front of him, until finally he closed the book and slipped it back on the shelf.