Intriguing.

I had the discomforting sense she was observing me in a similar way, all careful curiosity, and I released her quickly, stepping back. I tapped on Zaridan’s wing, which she lowered, and I walked up to untie a thick satchel, throwing it down before I went to the second one.

When I returned, I said, “Go wait under the tree line. We’ll stay here for the night and wait out the storm.”

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Chapter 8KLARA

A short while later, after we’d found a drier spot within the protection of the forest, Sarkin pulled out what looked like a black rock from a leather bag, wide and round at the bottom but tapered toward the top.

It was gleaming and smooth, but inside…I caught a glow of red.

I was trying to ignore the throbbing pain my entire body was in. Every small movement ached and burned, my muscles screaming in protest. My skin felt chafed and raw in every place my clothing hadn’t covered it. Between my thighs, I knew the skin was bloodied and scraped from Zaridan’s unyielding leather mount. My palms were beginning to blister from where I’d gripped the bar.

“Is that a dragon egg?” I asked in disbelief, trying to keep my teeth from chattering and my limbs from shaking…because it hurt to shiver.

Sarkin’s gaze flashed up to mine, and I watched him place it on the forest floor. It sizzled on contact when it met the damp ground, steam rising, but it did nothing to dull the red glow within.

“No,” he replied.

I waited for him to explain, but he said nothing more. In my curiosity, I walked forward, gritting my teeth as I bent down, but I wanted to get a closer look. The heat it was radiating was unfathomable.

“Don’t touch it,” he growled. How had he? It should’ve burned him. “Undress.”

I gasped, straightening quickly, feeling a searing ache follow. “What?”

From the other pack, he tossed me a bundle of clothing. “You can’t get warm in those clothes.”

The material in my hands was heavy but soft. A pair of thick trews, well–broken in, and a long-sleeved black shirt. Simple and without decorative embellishments, so unlike what my people wore.

But they were dry. That was all that mattered.

Gazing around the clearing, I saw a tree wide enough to offer me privacy, and I walked—gingerly—to it.

The forest we’d landed in was lush and damp, the floor covered in a soft dark blue moss. The trees’ trunks were smooth and black, leading up to thick, curling branches laden with velvety leaves, a kaleidoscope of different colors—dark greens, blues, and purples. I imagined in the daylight, or in the golden glow of a sunset, this forest would be breathtaking.

Strange flora illuminated the forest, bushes and shrub and vines glowing. For a brief moment, I thought they were heartstones, my hopes for Dakkar coming true. But instead, it appeared it was the stamens of the blooms themselves, glowing a light blue at their very center, and disappointment swept through me.

Though I still had hope. I’d dreamed of heartstone forests. They had to be here.

“Don’t try to run,” came the dark warning, though Sarkin’s tone was nonchalant. “There are worse things in here than me.”

A chill went down my spine, the beauty of the dark forest suddenly turning ominous. Quickly—as quickly as I could—I undressed. Inspecting my inner thighs briefly, I winced when I saw they had been scraped raw, little beads of red blood already drying.

The thought of asking Sarkin for help—because he’d likely scoff at me, that telling disappointment entering his gaze—made me pull up the fresh pants, dry and clean, though they were much too big. I took the belt from my own clothes and tightened it around my waist, keeping the material from falling. I pulled on the shirt next, hunching over to shield my breasts just in case Sarkin poked his head around the tree trunk.

When I emerged, I saw Sarkin had a sleeping roll laid out. The outside was leather, but the inside appeared to be lined with black fur.

Alarm went through me, but I ignored the sleeping roll…for now. Instead, I slowly lowered myself down to the moss nearest the glowing egg. The heat had already dried it out there, and I sighed, feeling the warmth begin to seep into my chilled skin. I laid out my soggy clothes and satchel next to it, knowing they’d be dry by morning, even through the chilly night. I wasn’t worried about the satchel. It was made of bveri leather, and I’d made sure the seams were tight.

Across from me, Sarkin tossed over a pouch of dried meat, followed by a heavy water skin.

“Drink, so I can go refill it at the stream,” he ordered, watching me, as if daring me to disobey. Now that I was dry and getting warm, I was thirsty. And starving.

“What about Zaridan?” I asked. We’d left her on the cliff, though I’d heard her take off shortly after.

Sarkin paused, his hand stilling in midair as he ate his own rations. “She’ll be fine.”

I nodded, taking a long swallow, drinking until I nearly emptied the whole skin. Then I ate all the rations in the pouch, acutely aware of the burn of his eyes on me all the while. When I was finished, he handed me a thick slice of red-colored bread, the top dotted with what I thought were black seeds.

I polished that off too, wiping my lips with the edge of my thumb when I was finished.

“Where are we?” I asked when the silence stretched uncomfortably long. “In Karag? Is that what you call this land?”

“Karak,” he corrected, watching me. “Do I make you nervous, princess?”

He had his legs drawn up, his arms wrapped around his knees. A slice of the bread was dangling from his hand, and he brought it up to his lips for another bite. He was the picture of perfect ease, and I felt on edge.

I watched his strong jaw as he chewed.

“Of course you do,” I said quietly. His chin tilted back. Surprised? “Did you expect another answer?”

“I expected you to lie,” he said, finishing the last of his meal. “Most would.”

“I have nothing to gain from lying, only losing a bit of my pride,” I answered. “After today, that’s long gone with you. So what do I care?”

A gruff sound left Sarkin’s lips. A laugh? Perhaps as close as he’d come to one with me.

“What do you want with me?” I asked, cutting straight to the question that had been circulating in my mind since last night. Since I’d seen the red fog stream from his dragon and thought how bleak our future would become. Since I’d tasted the bitterness of the ethrall wind its way down my throat, constricting it tight.

I had a million questions racing in my head—questions I hoped I could find the answer to in being here.

Tonight, however, was not the time or the place to ask them. Even I knew that, but I wanted to see what Sarkin would say.

“I want to use you.”

Hearing the words felt worse, somehow. They were honest, at the very least, but they really drove home how powerless I truly was with him.

“For what?” I asked carefully.

“For many things,” he rasped. A jolt went through my belly. “But mostly to find the forest of heartstones you spoke about.”

Dread spread.

“But…but you have that here. You have them, don’t you? You know where it is!”

Had I misunderstood entirely?

“We have a good supply,” Sarkin replied, his eyes fastened on me tight. “But Karak is vast and our kingdoms are wide spread. Heartstones get depleted quickly because of the Elthika.”

I’d been very, very wrong.

Quickly, I asked, “How do you know I wasn’t lying?”

Sarkin grinned, and the sight was so startling that I nearly gaped. “Tell me that you were, aralye. I would love to hear that.”

His mockery was plain.