"Common, Iris, don’t be stubborn," Amelia pleaded, her voice soft. Her hands rested on her hips as she tilted her head, brows furrowed with worry.
But I didn’t answer as I stood from the bed and approached the corner side where my tattered leather bag lay slumped against the wall. My hands moved quickly, shoving in a spare tunic, a water flask, and the small knife I kept hidden under my mattress. The journey to Warborn would take two days, maybe more, and I needed to be ready. I didn’t glance at her direction and I kept my face blank, unwilling to let Amelia see the storm brewing inside me.
"Fine. I’ll go with you," Amelia said suddenly. She stepped forward, closing the distance between us and stood in front of me. Her hands caught mine as she looked up at me. "But promise me we won’t get caught."
The fear in her eyes mirrored the unease gnawing at me, but I couldn’t let her see it. I forced a smile, hoping it looked convincing. "I promise," I said.
Amelia’s face softened, and she pulled me into a quick and fierce hug. "When we’re back," she said as she pulled away, her hands still gripping my arms, "we’re visiting my mother by the weekend, like we agreed, okay?"
I nodded, forcing a smile. "Thank you, Amy," I said. "For always standing by me. Thank you for everything."
Her lips curved into a small smile, but her eyes still held that sign of worry. "Always," she said simply.
Later that night, after the pack house had fallen quiet, we moved. I’d packed a few things we would be needing, just the essentials, and Amelia had done the same, her own bag slung over her shoulder as we slipped out of the maid’s quarters. My heart pounded as we crept through the garden, sure not to be seen, avoiding the flickering torch lights and the occasional patrol of the pack guards. Every rustle of leaves or distant howl made my skin prickle, but we pressed on.
The journey to Warborn was grueling. Two days of trudging through dense forests and over rocky hills, the summer heat pressing down on us as we made our way to a river bank where we drank from and also showered.
On our journey, my legs ached, and sweat plastered my hair to my forehead, but Amelia kept pace beside me without showing sign of exhaustion. By the time we reached Warborn’s borders, the sun was dipping low. The evening air was cooler as we slipped into our disguises. A plain, coarse dress stolen from the Black Bane servant’s laundry, our hair tucked under faded headscarves to blend in with the market women of Warborn.
The gates of Warborn stood open, bustling with activity as traders and villagers poured in for the evening market. Amelia and I walked through the throng, our heads bowed, baskets in hand to complete the ruse of our disguise as if we had come to purchase something. My eyes darted around, scanning for any sign of recognition, but no one spared us a glance.
We reached the maid’s quarters of Warborn, slipping into a secluded place behind the maid quarters. Amelia stood beside me, her eyes filled with fear as she peered around the corner. The Warborn pack main building was a distance away. My gaze drifted around, where servants bustled about, carrying trays of food and other items to the market.
And suddenly, my eyes fell on Silas. He stood a few distance away from us as he spoke to a servant. My breath caught, and for a moment, I couldn’t stop staring, remembering the incident that happened in his room where I saw him naked.
Amelia’s elbow nudged my side, her voice teasing as she spoke, "Caught you staring. Got a crush on Alpha Lucas, huh?"
My face flushed hot, and I whipped my head toward her, glaring. "Stop it, Amy," I hissed. "I’m not crushing on anyone."
She grinned, undeterred, her eyes filled with mischief. "Oh, come on. He’s handsome. If you’re too shy to talk to him, I could help you..."
"Amelia!" I snapped, cutting her off. "I’m never confessing my feelings to any man. Not after what the triplets did." My voice was filled with pain and I hated how raw it sounded, how the memory of their cruelty still was gradually killing the lover girl in me.
Amelia’s smile faded, her expression softening. She reached out, her hand resting lightly on my arm. "I’m sorry," she said quietly. "I was being silly. I didn’t mean to upset you." free.webn\ove(l)(.)c(o)m
I shook my head, forcing a small smile. "It’s fine. Let’s just focus on why we’re here."
She nodded as she glanced toward the pack house. "The library’s on the far side, past the main hall. We’ll need to wait until the servants clear out for the night."
I nodded, my eyes drifting back to the courtyard. Silas was gone now, the servant he’d been speaking to scurrying off with a basket of laundry.
We waited in silence, the minutes stretching into an eternity. The night air grew cooler, and I pulled my shawl tighter around my shoulders. Amelia shifted beside me. "I’m cold." She said, shivering slightly. In my past life, Amelia was diagnosed with asthma and also pneumonia. The thought of her saying she was cold only made me worry about her health because she’s not supposed to stay out this cold. I reached out, squeezing her hand softly as I wondered if in this life, she’s diagnosed with the same illness. But then she flashed me a smile and I returned it.
Finally, the courtyard quieted. The last of the servants disappeared into the pack house, and the torch lights burned low. I nodded to Amelia, and we slipped out from behind where we hid, moving quickly but silently toward the library.
We were nearly there, the library’s arched doorway just visible in the moonlight, when a masculine voice cut through the silence.
"Hey, you two! What are you doing there?!"
My blood ran cold as we froze.