The artwork above is not mine.

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    Nascha blocked a punch from Aeron and twisted around him. She landed a few sharp jabs in between and beneath his shoulder blades. Aeron yelped, flipping away from her. He clenched his fists, ready to catch her next blow. Nascha gave a heavy sigh as she lowered her own. Aeron straightened and cocked his head.

    "Come on." He draped an arm over her shoulder. "We'll let some of these other whelps use the ring."

    Nascha nodded and they stepped out, letting a group of four take their place. Nascha sat on the rail of the fence. She longed to shift into her owl and fly away from the Bane's camp, but she knew she wouldn't get very far. Not with Elgan, Aedion, and Vaughan monitoring her every move.

    "You've been unusually quiet today," Aeron said, joining her on the fence. He slouched, letting his elbows rest on his knees while his hands dangled between his legs. "Is everything all right?"

    Nascha unbound her loose braid and combed her fingers through her hair, thinking of a response. She separated her crimson locks into three strands and rebraided them as she replied. "Fenrys and I got into an argument last night."

    "You argue all the time."

    "This was different."

    "What do you mean?"

    Nascha sighed, flipping her braid over her shoulder. She couldn't explain what the argument was about without telling Aeron who she really was. All he knew so far was her first name and that she'd originally come from Terrasen, but had spent the past several years traveling to avoid Adarlanian capture. He knew nothing of Arcelia and her role as its Lady.

    "He's trying to change my mind about something, even though I've told him repeatedly that I won't be swayed," she said at last. "It's a sensitive subject so I don't want to say much."

    "I see." Aeron pursed his lips. "Why won't you be swayed?"

    "Because I'll be forced to do something that I don't want to do. Something I was never meant to do. It will hurt too much."

    "Maybe you should tell him that. I think he'd understand, given what he's been through." Nascha knit her brows. "You...don't know?" Aeron glanced at her in surprise.

    Nascha shook her head. "I know he was one of Maeve's blood-sworn, and I've heard stories about what he's done in battle, but I don't know anything more than that. I suppose the finer details didn't reach me in the Southern Continent."

    "I guess not." Aeron rested his chin in his palm. "He's the one who drove Goldryn through Maeve's heart. Those scars on his face were given to him during the battle."

    "What did he do for Maeve?" Nascha asked.

    Aeron's mouth quirked sideways. "People say he was her whore, but it was unwilling on his part. She used the blood oath to compel him to...serve her."

    "That's..." Nascha swallowed, her mouth running dry. "That's awful. Do you know how he came to be blood-sworn to her?"

    Aeron shook his head. "I haven't heard anything about that. I suppose you could ask him yourself."

    "I don't think he'd be willing to tell me anything about his past, especially if I won't tell him about my own."

    "Maybe you should. You might get along if you understood each other better, and knowing one another's past could help."

    "There's just one problem with that."

    "What?"

    "I don't want to get along with him."

    "Because of your leg?"

    "And because his brother killed mine," Nascha answered with a nod. Among other things, she added to herself.

    "I've been meaning to ask how that happened." Nascha turned away. "If you don't want to tell me, I understand."

    "It's not that I don't want to, but..." Nascha shook her head, meeting Aeron's gaze. "Maeve sent them after us. My family was a very powerful line of pure blooded Fae. I believe she wanted us to swear the blood oath to her. My brother gave me time to escape, but Fenrys' brother killed him as he did so. Fenrys chased me down in his wolf form and caught me by the leg, but I managed to break away."

    "When you yelled at him your first day here, you said you had only been sixteen when that happened?" Nascha nodded. "How old are you now?"

    "Twenty-five."

    Aeron grinned. "I'm twenty-six. Have you Settled yet?"

    "Not yet. You?"

    "A few months ago. I honestly didn't think I was going to. I don't have any magic other than my heightened senses."

    "Do you have an animal form?"

    Aeron nodded. "I can shift into a lynx."

    Nascha smiled. "I'd like to see your lynx sometime."

    "Then sometime, I'll show you. We aren't allowed to shift in the camp though. Aedion worries that the Humans will mistake us for wild animals and kill us. That, or they'll shit themselves and leave the Bane."

    "That would be embarrassing," Nascha giggled. "I think the Humans will get used to us sooner than everyone expects. The world is changing. They have to change with it, or they'll be left behind."

    Aeron inclined his head. "Wise words."

    "You two!" Elgan hollered. "Get back to work or I'll have you scrubbing the outhouses for the next two weeks!"

    Nascha grimaced and slid off the railing. Aeron followed her into an empty training ring. They squared off and began, aware of Elgan's critical gaze tracking their movements.

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    Fenrys lay on his bed, watching Nascha as she scribbled away in her leather bound journal. She sat at a desk across the room, blatantly ignoring him. She had done so ever since their argument, and he only spoke to her when necessary.

    Guilt weighed heavily on his mind and try as he might, he couldn't stifle it. He shouldn't have said the things he did, even if he thought they were true. After all, he didn't know her reasons for not wanting to return to Arcelia. She had to have some sort of a reason. Maybe she wasn't being as petty and selfish as he thought. He couldn't know that without hearing her reasons first, and Nascha didn't seem inclined to share them.

    Weariness drifted over him presently. His eyes closed, despite his efforts to keep them open. It wasn't long before sleep stole him away.

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    He found himself in the middle of a dark forest. Dim light flickered before him, taking the shape of his brother. There was a dark spot on his thin shirt, right above his heart. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, mixing with his long ebony hair. Connall watched him through cold onyx eyes.

    "Con." Fenrys reached for him.

    Connall jerked away, anger flashing across his features. "Don't patronize me. This is your fault." He gestured to the growing stain on his shirt. "If you'd just left me alone, I would be alive and you would never have sworn the oath to Maeve. You seemed content with your unit before you found out how I served her."

    "I couldn't let her use you like that," Fenrys said.

    "I was pleased to serve her however she desired, just as you should have been."

    "She used us against each other, Con."

    "She took me out of your shadow," Connall snapped. "And you couldn't bear it. You just had to step in and make yourself the center of attention again. You couldn't let me have one role all to myself!"

    "I was trying to protect you!"

    "You were protecting yourself."

    "That's not true. I..."

    "If you were protecting me, this never would have happened." Connall flattened his palm over his heart. Blood flowed between his fingers. The bronze glow of his skin was paling. "If you were protecting me, you would have broken the oath for me, your brother. Your twin! Not some worthless Queen who couldn't do anything to help you."

    "Instead, you let me die! You let me die and then you serviced Maeve while my body cooled beside you! You didn't even bother to see if she buried me. I was rotting in my room for months before Vaughan found me and finally gave me rest." Emotion flooded Connall's gaze. Anger, sorrow, love. "You were only ever looking out for yourself, Fenrys. That's the only thing you know how to do."

    "No, that's not true. That's not..." Fenrys broke off as Connall collapsed before him.

    Blood pooled around Fenrys' feet, forming a sticky mud as it mixed into the dirt. He stumbled towards Connall, but the mud held him fast. Fenrys strained towards his brother. Mud sucked at his legs, drawing him down. Fenrys fought harder. Every movement dragged him deeper into the mud. Connall's vacant eyes stared right through him. Tears ran down Fenrys' cheeks as he gave one last desperate struggle. Mud closed over his head, flooding his nostrils and mouth.

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    Fenrys lurched awake, flinging the blankets off himself. He didn't know when he'd covered up. He hadn't even bothered to remove his clothes. He braced shaking hands on the bed and gulped down several deep breaths, trying to push aside the lingering horror of his dream.

    Fenrys swallowed hard and bit his tongue to draw moisture back into his mouth. At last, he glanced at the other side of the bed, hoping he hadn't woken Nascha. His eyes widened and he bolted to his feet. There was no sign of the female. Fenrys drew in another deep breath, catching a whiff of her scent: nutmeg and frost. It was still fresh.

    He hurried to the window, but found it securely latched. Fenrys passed by the desk where she'd been sitting when he fell asleep. Her notebook still sat there, though it was closed. Fenrys ran out of the room and into the hallway. He heard a muffled thud as a cabinet closed.

    Fenrys entered the main room and found Nascha on her knees, rooting through another cabinet. He breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the wall. "What are you doing?" He asked.

    "Do you have anything mildly tolerable to drink around here?" Nascha asked, not bothering to answer his question.

    Fenrys raked his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes briefly. "No. I'm usually already in Orynth or the palace if I crave a drink."

    "Figures." She sat back on her heels and glanced at him. Nascha narrowed her eyes. "You look like shit." He barked a wry laugh. "Did you think I was making a run for it?"

    "I did, but that's not why I look like shit."

    "Then why?"

    "If I tell you, I'm definitely going to need alcohol in my system." Fenrys started towards the door. "Come on."

    Nascha's eyes lit up. "Can I get whiskey?"

    "You can get whatever you want, as long as it puts you in a relatively decent mood." Nascha rolled her eyes with a huff. Still, there was a small smile on her lips as she followed him out the door.