What Lies Beyond the Veil (Of Flesh & Bone, #1)(63)

“Eventually,” he said, hoisting me up into the tunnel we’d entered through. He followed at my back as we made our way out, finding the weather much more agreeable in the early morning light. The wind had died down, the snow had stopped, and most of it had melted off the ground already. “But with the weather being unpredictable, I think we need to find an alternative to wait out the cold season. There are rumors of a Resistance to the Fae and the Mist Guard in the Hollow Mountains. We’re going to keep moving in the hopes of stumbling across them.”

“How will we find them?” I asked, the idea of a resistance to the Fae seeming out of my wildest dreams. More people like us, more ability to survive if there was a place to ride out the winter successfully.

“You don’t,” he said, jumping down from the tunnel and reaching up to grasp me around the waist and lower me to the leaf-covered ground. “They find you.”





My heel had been tormented enough, the skin that had split long ago and blistered around the original wound, parting to give way to a deeper wound that was much worse than I’d thought it could get. I flinched with my steps, feeling it tear further with every pace.

Caelum lifted his head slightly as he studied me, danger churning in his gaze. “You’re hurt,” he said, leveling a look at me that I thought might have made grown men wither. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“There’s nothing to be done for it. I can’t walk without boots,” I said, shrugging off the pain in my ankles. One was worse than the other, the slick feeling of blood on my skin driving me to the point of madness.

Well-fitted footwear was of great importance when walking for endless hours every day.

“Your boots are hurting you?” he asked, his brow furrowing. Just a glance at his clothing spoke to the high quality items he’d been accustomed to before the Veil had shattered. The needlework on his tunic and trousers alone probably cost more than I would see in a year as a harvester.

“Yes. They don’t fit me right, so the leather rubs at my ankles and bunches up my socks and cuts into me,” I explained, watching his jaw clench.

He took my hand in his, guiding me away from the base of the low mountain we’d been hugging, so that we’d have the ability to find shelter in a cave when the sun started to set. “Where are we going?” I asked.

“There’s a village not too far from the Hollow Mountains. We’ll go find you some new boots there and maybe a cloak while we’re at it. You can’t keep walking in boots that wound you,” he said, his tone feeling scolding as he glared down at me.

“A few blisters are the least of our problems,” I said, even though I wouldn’t object to functioning footwear and a warm cloak that didn’t bear the weight of leaving Caelum unprotected from the elements.

“Did they heal overnight?” he asked, studying me intently.

“Mostly,” I admitted. I hadn’t wanted to voice the strange healing that seemed to happen every time I got hurt. Scrapes faded quickly; my dislocated shoulder had stopped hurting within hours. Nothing lasted, but every time the blisters healed over, the fresh baby skin that covered the wounds was reopened the next day.

“You’ll heal quickly now. If we can just find you some boots that fit you better, your feet will be better in no time. That’s important, Estrella. You can’t run properly if you’re in pain.”

“I just don’t think it’s worth exposing ourselves to the Mist Guard.” I sighed, but I followed. He then sighed, stopping his journey to reach behind me and lay a hand across my waist. His other went to the underside of my legs, sweeping them out from under me until I was cradled in his arms with my head resting on his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“You’re slow because you’re in pain. We’ll move faster if I carry you,” he said, striding forward as if he didn’t have the weight of a whole-ass person draped over his arms like a rug that needed cleaning.

“Don’t be a dick. I can walk myself.”

“Can you?” he murmured, raising a brow as he ran his eyes over my torso, down my legs, and to the boots that even I knew were slowly filling with blood.

“Don’t make me punch you,” I warned, squirming until he finally relented and set me to my feet. My heels protested it immediately, but I pushed forward and walked faster with him at my side.

I wouldn’t be carried through the woods like a damsel, not when I knew I was capable of walking myself. To think such a small wound could render me incapable would only make me angrier.

We continued on in silence, both of us stewing in our own frustration through the hours we walked to find the village he’d mentioned. I didn’t want to ask; didn’t think it wise to try to learn anything more about his background. Not when his life and history only served to endear me to him more and more.

“Was your father a Lord or something?” I asked, unable to stop the burning curiosity.

“You could say that,” he said evasively, shrugging his shoulders. That certainly explained why he’d been tolerated even though he wasn’t a legitimate child.

Money could buy many things. Even a bastard child as an official heir.

I quieted down, reading the signs of his unwillingness to discuss more about his father’s title. It didn’t matter in the end.