| BOOK TWO - A COURT OF ASH AND SMOKE | Lovers separated, powers that won't be controlled, a doomed wedding. With the threat of war looming over Prythian, Lucien, You, Tamlin, and Rhysand's Inner Circle must scramble to find allies and prepare thems...
CHAPTER WARNINGS: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, Unprotected Sex (P in V)
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The Night Court wilderness was far from the plush comfort of Velaris. It was cold, closer in temperature to Windhaven, and the lines of trees seemed to stretch forever. It was endless, the walking, and the only thing that kept you moving was the knowledge that each step would take you closer to the end of the day, when the sentinels would light the fire and you'd be able to cuddle up in the tent with Lucien.
A week and a half passed, and you were entirely fed-up. Your body had been stiff from the end of the first day, and the muscle aches hadn't dulled since then. Your mood hadn't improved much either, and the others had noticed.
"I just don't understand why we couldn't just winnow," you moaned as you slumped down onto the ground as Wren lit the fire, and Lucien prepared the tent behind you.
"Winnowing would defeat the point," Bron chuckled. "If you're looking for something, you can't skip out half the area by winnowing. We might winnow right past her."
You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes, and leaned back against your hands, stretching your legs and crossing your ankles, the only position you could sit in that would alleviate your burning muscles. "There has to be a better way than walking everywhere," you muttered.
"Like what?" Silas asked with a raised brow, crouching down across the fire to begin skinning the two squirrels he'd caught earlier in the day for dinner. You grimaced as he slit one of the animals at the rear and began spreading the cut apart, sliding his dagger further in with each cut.
"This is Prythian, surely there's some kind of magic that could make this easier for us?" You implored, tutting your tongue slightly in annoyance.
"Do you ever stop complaining?" Wren snorted, just as the flames of the fire began to grow, billowing in the crisp breeze - you didn't want to remind them that Lucien had fire magic running through his veins, and could have lit the fire in seconds. If they wanted to practise their survival skills, you'd let them, and after eleven days trekking through the snowy landscape of what was considered the most dangerous court in Prythian, Lucien seemed to have no want in helping them either.
"No, she doesn't," Lucien remarked from behind you, coming to join the others now that the tent was erect. He pressed a quick kiss to your temple before grabbing a knife to begin chopping some of the few veg your group had left to throw into the stew for dinner.
"I can remember someone being much worse on their first trailing trek," Silas interjected, shooting Lucien a cunning smirk. Lucien grumbled something under his breath.
"So," you said with raised brows, turning to Lucien, "you've spent all week telling me off for complaining, when you were just as bad?"
Lucien sucked in a harsh breath, the warmth of it hitting the icy air as he exhaled through his nose, forming a cloud in front of him. He tossed the knife to the ground at your feet and stood, turning away from you. "At least I actually help."
