Page 85 of A Trial of War
“You’re impossible,” she whispered.
“And you’ve had a few more drinks than normal tonight,” I said, unable to stop the small smile tugging at my lips.
“Just a few.” She huffed a tired laugh and inched a bit closer, her forehead brushing against my chest. “In two days, we will be at war.”
I wrapped an arm around her carefully, slowly, letting her rest against me.
“The bath helped, though. My mind is clearer now.” Her breathing steadied as her body relaxed.
The bond hummed with contentment in my core. And as she drifted toward sleep, wrapped in my scent and my arms, I knew this was where she was always meant to be.
Zola shifted against me, the oversized shirt swallowing her petite frame, and took a shaky breath. “There’s… there’s something I haven’t told anyone,” she said, her voice barely above the hum of the lantern. “Not a soul. But I want to tell you.”
I cupped her face gently, thumb brushing over her cheek. “I’m listening. Every word,” I said softly, my panther vibrating through me with a surge of anticipation and protectiveness.
She swallowed hard, eyes wide. “I want to tell you how I earned these,” she said, with her fingers brushing over her markings.
I stilled, listening carefully.
“Before Minaeve stole our memories, Arabella… Daxton’s mother… took me and two others to patrol the Crimson City borders. There were rumors of shadow magic. Magic that was killing the land and threatening our people. We ventured into the mountains, and on the third night… that’s when we were no longer the hunters, and we became the hunted.”
Her hand gripped my arm as she trembled slightly, recalling the memory. “The fallen attacked us. The poison… It took our two companions first, turning them into monsters of shadow and death.”
A rare tear traced down her cheek, and I brushed it away gently, holding her closer.
I whispered, “What happened next, little shadow? You don’t have to tell me if it’s too difficult.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I want to tell you.” Her voice faltered, yet she continued.
So brave, my mate was so brave.
“I–I was grabbed by a fallen, and the shadows began to swarm me. I was changing… becoming one of them. Until… Until Arabella saved me. Somehow, she reached out through my mind and created a way for me to fight through the shadows. She told me never to give up, to take their magic and use it against them. So I did.”
Her lips trembled, eyes wet, but she pushed on. “When I woke, I shadow-jumped for the first time. I killed the horde that attacked us, but not in time to save Arabella. She… she took her own life instead of turning into a fallen.”
Zola shivered as she spoke, her voice barely audible. I tightened my hold, letting the warmth of my body reassure her, letting her lean fully into me.
“I shadow-jumped back to Silver Meadows to deliver her body and bow to her husband, High Prince Khalon,Daxton and Castor’s father. And I swore, with my life, to look after her children for her.”
I pressed my forehead to hers, feeling the sturdy pulse of her heart against mine. “You carry her story with honor, Zola. You survived the impossible. That takes more strength than most could even imagine.”
She let out a shuddering breath, closing her eyes.
I murmured into the quiet room, “You don’t have to face it alone anymore. Not ever.”
Her body relaxed into mine as her cheek rested against my chest. My panther purred in contentment, curling around her in my mind, approving of the bond between us.
For the first time, I could sense her walls crumbling, opening up and letting me in, and I vowed silently, fiercely, to never let her go.
“I lived in a Satellite pack east of Solace with my mother and father as a youngling. It was quiet, peaceful. Too peaceful, I suppose.” I let out a long, slow breath. “Because all too soon, hunters came.”
Zola’s fingers stilled on my skin.
“I heard my mother first,” I whispered. “Her screaming, telling me to run.”
My chest ached, jagged and familiar, as if the old wound had reopened.
“I did run. But I was too slow. Too small. They caught me before I could get away.” My jaw clenched as I relived my darkest memory. “I was gagged, hooded, and locked in irons before being thrown in a cage on the back of a wagon. I screamed for my parents, for anyone to help… But one of the hunters reached through my bars and hit me so hard across the face that I blacked out.”
