Chapter 3 Chapter Three
Isla could feel the magic burning through her skin. She gasped as it singed her nerve endings, urging her to go back. She ignored the instincts of her body and continued forward until the effects of the ward eased. She crumbled to the ground. Her fingers dug into the earth while she regained her breath. Remembering where she was, she looked up and scanned her surroundings. While on the outside of the ward, she could not see the encampment. Now that she was inside, she could make out dozens of tents. She shot to her feet and pivoted.
Noah remained on the outside of the ward. He looked around, his nerves palpable even through the ward that now separated them. Though she could not hear him, she could read his lips as he mouthed, “I’ll wait for you.”
She watched as he backed away into the darkness of the woods, most likely to find a place to hide the horses and wait for her to return. Isla pulled a dagger from her dress and looked again at her surroundings. She didn’t have time to waste. The witch who had cast the ward would have sensed her coming through. She hoped the witch was arrogant enough to not sound an alarm and search her out for themselves.
Isla stuck close to the fabric of the tents. She could hear the boisterous laughter of men in their cups. As she ducked from one tent to the next, she noticed a series of fires lit on the outskirts of the tents where overly large men were eating meat straight from the bones of the animals they’d hunted. One of the men stood up and stretched his back. Then he turned toward the tent she was standing in front of. Isla gasped and moved backwards along the tent and around the side. A hot wind blew her skirts and she looked toward the source.
She clapped a hand to her mouth to keep from screaming when she beheld the large black dragon lying casually a few feet from her. The mighty beast lifted its head and tilted it with curiosity. Her heart felt as though it were beating hard enough to lurch from her chest as the dragon reached forward and nudged her slightly with its nose. A low purr rumbled from deep within its chest. Going off instinct, Isla lowered her hand from her mouth and tentatively reached her shaking fingers out toward the beast’s large maw. It lifted its chin so that its nose could rest against her palm, and the purr grew louder. Suddenly, it whipped its head to the right, and the purr turned into a small growl. His red eyes flicked back to her, a sign of warning.
Isla didn’t think about how ridiculous it was that she could read its expression. Instead, she sprinted across the clearing to the next row of tents.
“Bessimor, what on earth are you growling at, huh?” a deep male voice echoed across the clearing. “Get off it. I brought you dinner. Stop being a grouch. Everyone’s turning in for the night and then you can spread your wings.”
Just as the man said those words, she noticed the soldiers around the fires abandoning them and fanning out across the clearing toward their tents. Isla slowly backed away, keeping her eyes trained on the various groups of men as they sauntered off in search of cots to crash in. She felt loose fabric at her back and, as a cluster of half a dozen soldiers grew closer, she took another step. Her heel caught on a slight hitch in the ground and she fell backward… right through the flap of a tent.
Isla let out a grunt as her butt landed on a soft material. Her fingers fanned out and brushed against the fur-lined ground. She stood on shaky legs and glanced around the space. It was warm inside, far warmer than the cold breeze that she’d grown accustomed to always blowing from the sea. A makeshift desk of a board propped up by two tree stumps was lined with parchment, ink, maps, books and a lantern whose flickering light illuminated the room around her. She followed the light to the far side of the tent. Her breath stalled. Hidden underneath several layers of fur… was a very large man.
She retreated a few steps, but the laughter of men made her hesitate at the canvas flap. Her eyes jerked around the tent, and she noticed the banner hanging on the wall. It featured the crest of the Vaelryn family, the royal family of Eredhal. She looked back at the table and realized the maps and parchment were military plans. Isla stepped further into the space and looked at the man more closely.
His hair was dark and fell slightly over his face and down his neck in soft waves. His head was propped up by his saddle. One arm cushioned the back of his head while the other rested on his chest… his naked chest. She swallowed hard as her eyes traversed the hard planes of muscle, the way the cords of his arms flexed as he dreamed and the steady rise and fall of his chest. The rest of his body was hidden beneath the furs but she could only imagine the rest of him was as powerful as what was visible. If only she could see his eyes. Of all the physical attributes describing the warrior prince of Eredhal, his eyes were the one thing that never changed. They were supposedly the color of molten silver as it was poured from a crucible to its molding where it could cool and harden.
Though his eyes were hidden behind closed lids and thick, fluttering lashes, she was certain: this was Sylvan, the second-in-line for the throne of Eredhal, the Mate Killer. Isla wiped her sweaty palms on her dress and took a steadying breath for courage. She gripped the slender dagger tighter in her fist. The sound of her soft steps was swallowed by the thickly lined ground she crept along. Isla moved to the side of his cot and carefully lowered herself to the ground. She studied his sleeping figure for another moment and wondered how many people had ever been given the privilege of seeing the mighty warrior at his most vulnerable. She couldn’t be sure. But she did know one thing: she would be the last.
With a sharp intake of breath, Isla raised the dagger above her head. She kept her eyes pinned to the left side of his chest, where his heart beat in a slow rhythm against his ribs. Without allowing time for the sin of what she was about to do cloud her judgement, she brought the dagger down.
