Ve'Rah Daa (The Ephemeral: Book 3)

Chapter 20

The next day, Mason, Valerie, and I stood outside the Hut—a large cabin dedicated to indoor events, assemblies, council meetings, and the storage of winter rations. Wooden tables and chairs filled the single-story building, each piece of mismatched furniture constructed with the limited forest materials available to the refugees.

Inside, Will inspected one of the chairs with his crutch, scowling at the way it rocked on uneven legs. The poor carpenter couldn't tear his eyes away from the shoddy craftsmanship, and I knew his fingers ached for a handsaw.

After our conversation last night, Will and I had meandered back to Reese's cabin, only to be sentenced to different sleeping quarters. The matriarch had separated her adopted kids by gender, and she'd paired me with Valerie and the Rhean girls on the west end of the house while Mason and Tori bunked with the boys. Beckett took the kitted hammock in the living room, and as royalty, Will got his own private bedroom. The prince objected, but Reese refused to condemn the Rhean heir to a shared living space.

I thought I'd struggle to sleep without Will there to fend off the nightmares, but he'd found me in my dreams—almost like our souls hadn't finished mending for the night and still yearned for each other's frequency. He met me in negative space, and between sweet, ethereal kisses and gentle smiles, he'd repeated what he said to me at the hot springs, soothing my anxious heart and gifting me the best night of sleep I'd experienced in days.

I'd felt the change in us this morning. We'd officially moved past the rocky stage, ridding our relationship of persistent doubts and uncertainties. I'd said goodbye to the fear of rejection, the fear of desertion. We'd crossed that bridge yesterday, and now we were simply two teenagers chasing love while we still could.

And Patrons, it was refreshing to feel my age.

"We'll be back before lunch," Cillian informed us, swinging his daypack over his shoulders. The redhead had been voluntold to retrieve our horses from the other side of the mountain before the beasts wandered off or starved to death. Thankfully, a hidden trail wound up and around the eastern summit, which meant the Rhean wouldn't have to traverse the bat-infested cavern—or kill himself trying to drag a mustang underground.

Without the threat of flying, fanged demons on the trek, Jackson and Torian both agreed to accompany Cillian over the pass, and the trio had met up at the Hut to retrieve a few handfuls of dried berries to bribe their equine companions with.

As the medic tied his headscarf over his nest of curls, his gaze found Mason. "Don't let the girls get into too much trouble while I'm gone, yeah?"

Mason rolled his eyes. "I've learned that bossing Alex around only encourages misbehavior. She does what she wants, and I don't claim any responsibility for it." He shifted his weight to his other foot, and he spared a quick glance at the mountain behind us. "You sure you don't need another hand?"

"I think we've got it covered. The clans will benefit from your insights on military happenings anyway. You're needed here."

They stared at each other for a few seconds, and Valerie and I exchanged enthusiastic looks, hoping they might hug goodbye or share a groundbreaking sentiment. But then Tori offered up a feeble grin, grabbing tight to the strap of the backpack like he didn't trust his own appendage, like he feared he might scare Mason away if he tried to close the distance. "Well. I'll see you later, Price."

"Yeah. See you."

Mason watched him leave with the other young men, his gaze lingering on the Rhean's broad shoulders, and when he finally turned around, I wiggled my eyebrows.

"Don't even start," he said.

"Mason, you like him."

Blood rose to his cheeks and the tips of his ears. "I..." He recognized the knowing look in my eye and chose to abandon the charade. "Whatever. You have no right to say anything. You've been drooling over Sterling this whole trip."