Chapter 425: We Keep Moving

Igma;

The cold is getting worse. And for someone who grew up in the snowy mountains of Howleroot, that only goes to show that the cold in this place is diabolic!

I pull the fur around my shoulders tighter and glare at the back of Rhydian’s head as if the weather is somehow his fault.

It isn’t. Obviously...But I need someone to blame, and my cousin has conveniently decided to ride several feet ahead of me.

So, Rhydian it is!

Our horses’ hooves sink into the damp earth as we continue North, deeper into Jaggered Valley.

The trees have changed since we took off this morning. They’re taller here. Thicker, and their branches twist around one another overhead until barely any daylight reaches the forest floor.

Everything smells wet. Wet soil, wet leaves, moss, and cold. I hate it! And maybe everything feels worse because neither of us has spoken for almost an hour.

This silence followed us from last night, and with every passing second, it feels worse. Heavier.

I look at Rhydian again, and my heart twists.

His shoulders are stiff beneath his cloak, and he hasn’t stopped looking ahead since we packed our things this morning.

I don’t think he slept after what happened. Neither did I. How could I?

...I can still hear his howl—that horrible, broken sound tearing through the night. I can still remember shifting beside him because something inside me hurt too.

Not as badly as whatever Rhydian felt. But enough to know something happened. And no matter how deep we dig, we can not seem to figure out what that thing...is.

The deeper we get into Jaggered Valley, the stranger everything feels. Magic hangs in this place so thickly I can almost taste it. And I know whatever happened last night, the magic here distorted it—muffled it. It turned what should have been a clear message from our wolves into nothing more than grief without a name.

I don’t like that. I especially don’t like that Rhydian has barely spoken since.

"You’re doing it again." I finally decide to break the suffocating silence, and his shoulders stiffen. At least he’s heard me.

His head drops a bit, but he says nothing. That causes me to frown. He isn’t goinbg to answer?

Nothing but the sound of our horses’ hooves against the ground breaks the silence, and I let out a defeated breath.

"Doing what?" He finally speaks, and my heart skips a beat. Goddess! I didn’t realise how desperate I was for a conversation. How desperate I was to hear him speak.

"Brooding," I reply, and he falls silent again. Then–

"I’m riding."

"I can see that, but you’re brooding while riding," I reply, and he sighs.

"I’m thinking, Igma." He replies, and I eye him.

"You’re definitely brooding." I retort, and he turns slightly in his saddle and gives me a look.

Normally, that look would make most people reconsider their life choices, but I have known this man since we were children. His ’death stares’ do absolutely nothing to me.

"Stop staring at me," he mutters, and I scoff.

"It’s not my fault my eyes are working," I mumble, and he takes another deep breath.

"Let them work by focusing on something else." He replies, and I smile. I kick my horse gently, making it trot forward so I’m right beside him.

"You’re a far better sight than this creepy forest..." I reply, and he gives me an exasperated look. I mirror his look, and eventually, he turns away.

I smile victoriously. I knew tormenting him would bring some kind of reprieve. It makes things feel...a bit normal despite the situation.

But that illusion doesn’t last long. The silence returns almost immediately, and I hate it.

Not because silence itself bothers me, but because if I leave Rhydian alone with his thoughts much longer, he’s going to disappear inside them.

"So..." I begin, but he doesn’t so much as look at me.

"Do you remember when that bully pushed you into the river?" I continue anyway, and this time, his head turns.

"I fell." He replies, and I snort. Rhydian has always hated admitting that there was a time in his life when he was bullied.

"You were pushed." I clarify, and I see the annoyance bubble up on his face.

"I slipped."

"He put both hands against your back, and shoved you into the freezing river, Rhydian." I expatiate, and his jaw clenches.

"I remember the incident, Igma." He replies, and I raise a brow.

"Then you remember being pushed?" I ask, and he exhales as he looks away. I grin.

Good. I need to pull him away from the gloominess he’s been wallowing in. The thoughts he’s been drowning himself in. I don’t know what they are. Even I haven’t recovered from what happened last night, but somehow, I know Rhydian shouldn’t be left with his thoughts so long. I know that aren’tpleasantt thoughts.

"He was six," I continue, and he scoffs.

"Seven."

"Was she?" I push, and he groans.

"Yes. igma. He was seven."

"And you were what? Nine?"

"Eight!" He snaps, and my smile grows.

"That doesn’t make it any better," I reply, and he glares at me.

"What do you mean?"

"You were an Alpha heir, bullied by a seven-year-old." I laugh, and his frown deepens so much it almost looks like he aged three years into the future.

"I wasn’t bullied."

"Oh, you were. Every time he came around, you screamed for help." I tease, and his jaw clenches.

"I did not scream."

"You absolutely screamed."

"Shut up, Igma!" He scolds in embarrassment, and I start laughing.

He stares at me for a few seconds as I laugh, and his mouth twitches. It’s the ghost of a smile. So small it’s almost undetectable...But I see it anyway.

I sit up as joy shoots through me.

"Light! Was that a smile?" I ask, feeling a mix of triumph and relief, and he looks away.

He ignores me, but there’s no stopping.

"Oh, that was a sight to see! I was beginning to worry your face had forgotten how to smile." I tease, and he shakes his head in exasperation as he keeps looking ahead. But the corner of his mouth remains slightly raised.

Good. It feels so good to see something other than misery on that stone-cold face of his.

"That twat was the bane of my existence," he mutters eventually, and my smile grows.

"He was adorable."

"He put insects in my bed." Hr retorts, and I can not stop the laughter that explodes out of me. The sound travels between the trees, and once again, things almost feel normal.

Almost.

"Do you miss him?" I ask, and his expression softens.

"Ace?" He questions, and I nod.

I remember the day Ace left. It wasn’t long after Rhydian finally worked up the guts to stand up for himself. They beat each other into a trice, and somehow...somehow they became friends. A strange friendship. One I couldn’t understand. I still don’t understand it. I don’t understand boys.

...Ace had to leave because his mother was getting married. She married a man from another kingdom. Everyone said she was crazy. Maybe she was. But now that I’m older, I understand. It’s better to be crazy...than dead. That marriage was her escape ticket from Howleroot. From Alpha Liandria... And she clung to it.

My gaze drops, and Rhydian’s voice follows.

"Sometimes."

I look back at him, and a small smile splits my face.

"Me too," I confess in a whisper, and Rhydian gives me the softest smile.

We continue riding, and my mind wanders. Far from this place. Far from our troubles...and this unbearable heaviness in our hearts.

"I wonder what he’d be like now," I whisper, and Rydian scoffs.

"Insufferable."

"Probably." I laugh, and he chuckles softly.

I think about many things all at once. About home....about Father....Aunt Liandria...Alana. My Alana...

The heaviness in my heart returns.

My fingers slowly find my chest, and I swallow as they press over my aching heart.

I am heading towards her, yet with every passing day, our mate bond seems weaker. Like it’s...like she’s fading.

I’m trying to be strong because I do not want her to feel my fear through our bond, but it is hard not to be worried.

I wonder what shape she’s in. If those monsters are at least feeding her well. I wonder the last time she had a good night’s rest. Or comfort of any kind...

I look back at Rhydian again, and find that his eyes have dropped to his horse’s mane. Just like me...he’s gotten lost in thoughts, and I know this is not the time for me to keep talking, so I remain silent.

I look away, because I don’t want him to feel watched. The truth remains that we both have our griefs. We’ll bear it. Pretending they don’t exist doesn’t make them vanish.

"Igma." He suddenly calls, and I look back at him. His voice is different.

Quiet. I turn back to him and find him staring ahead.

"What?"

"Last night..." He begins, and my stomach tightens. I didn’t think he was going to bring it up.

"...I still feel it." He whispers, and I feel my throat go dry.

I blink at him as the familiar loss from last night reclaims its icy place inside me.

"So do I," I confess, and he looks as though he’s confirming that I’m not joking.

"You do?" He questions, and I nod.

"I don’t think I feel it the way you do." I begin as I press my palm against my chest. "But something is wrong... and I can feel it"

His face changes, and this time, all I can see is fear. Rhydian doesn’t frighten easily. For the sake of his ego, I wish I could pretend I didn’t see it...but I can’t.

"Do you think it’s Howleroot?" he asks, and I blink at him.

My heart skips a beat as I think back home. Could something have happened to our people? No... There’s no way. Our army is second to none. But—

"I don’t know," I confess, and Rhydian’s eyes fall as he says the next words.

"My mother..." His voice breaks, and he looks away immediately. My heart sinks at the thought.

There’s no way! She’s at Gravemaw. Nothing can happen to her there. She has her guards with her, and...

"Rhydian, you don’t think..." I begin, but he cuts me off.

"I don’t know what to think, Igma. There’s a cruel heaviness in my heart. I feel like I’ve lost something I can never get back. And in all this chaos...In all this turmoil...only one person comes to mind...her." He finally cracks, and I swallow.

A tear drops down his face, and he quickly wipes it off. My heart sinks.

"Rhydian, you—’

"I’m fine." He cuts me off, and I frown.

"You cried last night." I point out, and his jaw tightens.

"You shifted without meaning to, and you–you howled until you could barely stand." I rage, and he rolls his eyes.

"I remember—"

"Then stop telling me you’re fine." I snap, and he drags a breath.

His silver eyes look almost colourless beneath the weak daylight as he looks back at me.

"I don’t know what I felt." He says, and I nod.

"Neither do I, but I know I’m not fine. I won’t lie that I am." I reply, and he stares at me in silence.

"Igma, it felt like..." He stops. "Like I lost Mother."

My throat tightens as the words settle. I have no answer for that. So, I don’t insult him by inventing one.

Instead, I move my horse closer until our legs nearly brush.

"We’ll find out," I whisper, as that’s the only form of comfort I have to offer right now.

"When?" He asks, and I fall silent.

We can only know for sure if we head back to check. But...We’re too close to Alana to turn back now. However, I can’t say that.