The Storm Crow (The Storm Crow, #1)(63)

In the courtyard, rain fell gently, sliding off my leathers in droplets. I’d just joined Kiva at the edge of the archery section, my black-gold bow in hand, when a familiar drawling voice said, “Cute outfit.”

I spun to face Shearen, two Vykryn at his back, including the one whose ribs I’d broken. The boy looked like a jungle cat about to tear apart his dinner.

“Those went out of style in Rhodaire a while ago.” Shearen grinned, and the soldiers with him laughed.

My free hand tightened into a fist, the wound from the night before twinging. Kiva touched my shoulder, but it wasn’t necessary. Being around Razel had helped me learn how to keep my mouth shut when necessary, like when we were faced with three highly trained Illucian warriors clearly trying to cause trouble.

Trouble was the last thing I could afford now.

I turned around and pulled an arrow from my quiver. Kiva stayed angled toward the men, watching my back.

“I guess we really did beat you all into submission,” Shearen said. “Not that it took much effort. Rhodairens are weak. You hid behind the crows, and without them, you’re nothing.” Derision dripped from every word. He truly did hate us. The feeling was mutual.

“Your people deserve what happened to them,” he pressed, his voice scraping against my skin. “If it were up to me, I’d have seen you all burn. Maybe I’ll still get to.” He laughed, but it cut short abruptly, followed by a sharp yell and a loud crash. I whirled, arrow nocked and drawn, then relaxed.

Ericen had slammed Shearen into the ground, his boot on the back of his neck, one arm wrenched painfully behind him. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t talk to your future queen that way.”

“You bastard—Ah!” Shearen’s face twisted in pain as Ericen tugged harder on his arm. His friends stepped forward. I leveled the arrow at them. They stopped.

“All right!” Shearen yelled. Ericen released him, and he scrambled to his feet, massaging his injured shoulder. He glared murderously at Ericen, but behind the anger, something else seethed.

“Watch your back,” he hissed, but for some reason, I didn’t believe the threat for a second. He was like a cat puffing out his hair to look bigger, only he lacked the teeth and claws to back it up.

Without another word, Shearen pushed past his friends for the exit, and they followed.

I only lowered the arrow once they were gone. “We could have handled that ourselves.”

Ericen opened his mouth to respond, then shut it and stalked away, his shoulders hunched in frustration.

I turned back to Kiva, whose face was frozen in a wide-eyed stare. “Did you see him take that guy down?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“I’ve never seen someone move like that. Be careful around him, Thia.”

A chill trickled along my spine, and I turned grudgingly back to the targets. “Come on. I need to shoot something.”

*

I went looking for Ericen when Kiva and I finished. A servant showed me to his rooms, though I had a feeling he wouldn’t be there. Finding them empty, I traced my way back to the main hall, then out into the rapidly chilling evening.

Rocks crunched underfoot as I followed the curving path to the stables. Whenever I’d been angry or sad, I would spirit myself away to the rookery, where the quiet presence of the birds made me feel safe. When Ericen had shown me the stables and I’d seen the way he looked at the horses, I knew they were a similar refuge for him.

In some ways, we weren’t so different, and I didn’t know what to make of that.

The grounds were quiet, the horses stabled for the night and the workers and servants reduced to a skeleton crew. But the large front door was cracked open, and a sliver of firelight spilled out.

I slipped in, spotting a figure halfway down the walkway. Bathed in a pool of moonlight from the open windows above, Ericen leaned his elbows on the edge of a stall door, his face pressed against the massive black head of his stallion, Callo. His eyes were closed, his shoulders rounded, as if he’d gone to sleep. He looked peaceful.

The horse’s ears flicked, and he snorted, lifting his head. Ericen went rigid, spinning on the spot with one hand on a sword hilt. I froze.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” What didn’t I mean? I’d meant to come looking for him, but I hadn’t expected to find him so vulnerable. It felt like an intrusion.

He relaxed, letting his hand drop to his side. “It’s all right. What are you doing here?”

I approached slowly. “I came looking for you.”

“Funny. I could have sworn you’ve been avoiding me since last night.”

I paused at the edge of the barn door. “Is that why you threw Shearen on his back? Old-fashioned jealousy?”

Ericen smirked, crossing his arms. The moonlight caught the edge of his black jacket, illuminating the definition of his arms. Kiva’s warning echoed. “First, Shearen has a boyfriend. Second, he deserved it.”

“No doubt. But that’s what I have Kiva for.” One overprotective friend was enough. “But I haven’t been avoiding you. I left the ball early last night, and I was in town this morning.” Neither of those were lies exactly.

“Right. Your new hobby.” He sounded skeptical. “Maybe I could go with you—”

“No.” The word came too quickly, and I cursed silently as his mouth pressed into a thin line. “What I mean is, being here—it’s not easy for me. Visiting the Colorfalls is a break from it all. It’s still Illucia, but it’s…I don’t know. Easier.”