Like a Hawk

Like a Hawk
Ingrid

“So then we’ll—Cirocco?” Amval says, looking at his brother.

I glance at my fake fiancé to find him staring through the sweltering cave. Amval hasn’t bothered with his veil in this little mine, and Joli has been slightly more careful about the looks she’s been stealing at Amval—maybe because she had all of last night to look at him—but Cirocco doesn’t have that tact. Still, he hasn’t been outright staring until now.

He clears his throat. “Apologies, I just—”

“You thought I was dead.” Amval pats his brother’s shoulder. “I wanted to tell you.”

“But you couldn’t,” Cirocco says slowly. “For our safety.”

“Clearly, Kaloni is suspicious of those she thinks know anything.” I jingle the metal manacle around my wrist. “She wouldn’t have put me with you if she didn’t still trust you completely.”

“Right.” Cirocco sighs. “I know all that.”

Amval looks at me, his amber eyes shining with hurt and want. It’s a plea for me to have the right words to fix all of this. The Goddess put us together for a lot of reasons, but my way with words wasn’t one of them.

“You’ll get used to it,” I say.

That just earns me another forlorn nod.

Joli leans forward. “What if we kick his ass? This whole plan we’re coming up with… we don’t need him for it for another week, right?”

That startles a laugh out of Cirocco, and I grin.

Amval holds up his hands protectively. “Hey, I’ve had my ass kicked enough recently.”

Cirocco and Joli both look at me, wide-eyed.

I chuckle. “Let’s just say you’re taking the news much better than I am, all right?”

As Joli laughs and Cirocco looks back and forth between the two of us disbelievingly, I only have eyes for Amval.

Amval, who’s alive. Who kissed me and touched me right here. Who let me kick his ass on that beach to deal with what felt like such an all-consuming betrayal.

Who apologized to me the moment I walked in the door.

Quietly, trying not to think about everything that has happened and everything that could and what any of this means, I take his hand. The steady warmth of his palm on mine makes it easier to take every breath.

“To refocus,” he says over his siblings’ chatter. “I think the end of this plan is good, but it would be much better if we had some additional manpower.”

“The twins and the rest of the triplets,” Cirocco says immediately.

Joli scoffs. “You said you only believed Ingrid because of all the nights you spent with Sash. No one else is going to believe us without seeing his face.”

Cirocco grimaces. “And we cannot bring them out here without potentially leading eyes to this exact location.”

“Eyes we really can’t risk right now.” I glance around at the walls of smuggled supplies and wonder how many secrets Joli is hiding in here other than her own. “Are there any soldiers or palace staff you trust?”

Joli opens her mouth, but Amval speaks over her. “No. It’s not a matter of trust. I trust many of them with my life, especially those in the stable. But if a royal arrives with a question, they will have no way of saying no, regardless of what they want. I won’t risk their safety.”

Something throbs in my chest. There he is again, the man I think would make an incredible Alpha. Was he always lurking under the stiff prince I met so long ago, or is he an undead invention?

“What about your family?” Joli asks. “The strength of a half-dozen kingdoms wouldn’t be a bad thing to have.”

“And they would show up in a heartbeat,” I say, “except the ones who are actually close enough to do so in a week. Moonlight Beach can’t handle another fight right now.”

“Dun’s Crossing?” Amval asks. “I’m not sure if Joli could speed the travel time—”

“Not with two children,” she says.

“And they won’t leave them behind.” I rub my eyes. “I think extra bodies would be useful, but Kaloni made that impossible. We’re just going to have to make do with what we’ve got.”

“So… just us,” Joli says.

Amval looks around the tiny group, exhaustion weighing heavily on his face. I can feel it on mine, too. It was one thing to ask what we’ve been asking of ourselves. Cirocco’s just a year younger than I am, but Joli…I know why Candace made me stay out of the battle in Snowcrest now. She’s too young to be dealing with all of this.

“Royalty hold some innate power over their staff,” Amval says, “and I hold that over you as your older brother. So, for now, pretend I am Sash again. Are you both certain about this? You can turn back now. Keep this secret and stay away from the upcoming battle.”

For once, Cirocco answers first. “How long has it been? I didn’t think you’d forget me that quickly.”

A slow smile grows on Amval’s face. His brother shines with determination, with offense at ever having been questioned that reminds me just a little bit of Finn.

“Our family is under attack,” Cirocco says. “If I ever choose to sit back and watch when that happens, kill me immediately. They’ve put some kind of imposter in my place.”

Joli nods. “Astralis isn’t getting one of their tentacles in here. We’ve been through enough.”

“And if we were doing this whole scheme just for a laugh, you’d be in anyway?” I smirk at her.

She shrugs impishly. Amval and Cirocco laugh. Goddess above, is that what I seem like to other people? She’s one of the most charming people I’ve ever met and probably the scariest.

I glance at the mouth of the cave. Orange sunset oozes in around the fake rockslide covering the entrance, a ticking clock I resent. Kaloni has plans for dinner tonight—apparently, Cirocco and I have to figure out our seating charts while sitting in the dining room, or they’ll never truly work.  

Which means she wants to see us. Escaping Corwyn’s unsubtle but persistent tailing to get here was hard enough—Kaloni’s schedule is a transparent ploy to make sure she knows where I am as often as possible. Just like engaging me to Cirocco. As soon as the wedding’s over, I’m sure he’ll be her next source of information.

Or at least, that’s what she thinks.

When I look back, Amval has already followed my line of sight. “I suppose you have to go, then?”

“We will be back,” Cirocco says.

“As often as we can,” Joli corrects. “Which… might not be all that often.”

Amval grimaces, just for a second, and just with his mouth. It’s a habit he formed while wearing the veil; I can tell. He doesn’t want us to go.

I don’t really want to go.

Quietly, we all shuffle the supply crates and bags we’ve been sitting on to stand, partially hunched. Amval and Cirocco exchange an intense goodbye. Joli looks at me.

“One more week,” she says.

“What?”

She nudges me. “You weren’t my first human passenger. I know how people desperate to get back to someone look.”

I swallow. Charming and scary. “Why don’t you worry about your part of the plan, and I’ll worry about me?”

She shakes her head, unintimidated. Fuck. When Amval turns to me, a knot settles in my gut. We got him out safe—but how long will he be safe for? I have to go plan a wedding to someone else and just hope.

That same fear echoes in his eyes. He’ll be alone, but I’ll be sleeping down the hall from Kaloni. Neither of us are safe.

And there’s really nothing to say about that, so he just kisses me.



At dinner that night, I drape myself over Cirocco in a beautiful, cool hall and try not to let my resentment leak onto my face. Kaloni is watching us like a hawk. Recai has expressed concern three times over what a long nap I took this afternoon. When I decided I was done being followed, turned on my heel, and ran directly into Corwyn, he asked if I was sure I didn’t need to visit the healer for my head again because I’d been behaving so erratically. Everywhere I turn, there are eyes.

How does a sweltering smuggler’s cave with only dried meats and uncooked grain to eat sound more comfortable than the dining hall of a palace? I stab my knife into a hunk of meat and try to choke down some of Umit’s finest work—apparently, tonight is also the first of several tastings.

“You don’t seem to like that one particularly,” Kaloni says.

“I love it,” I lie through a full mouth. The hair on the back of my neck has been on end since we stepped through the door, and I doubt it will settle until the wedding is over.

“What about you, honey?” I ask Cirocco, saccharine-sweet.

He swallows audibly and gives some answer I don’t hear while I stare lovingly up into his face and picture his brother. My hand on his tenses, and I watch his knuckles turn white.

Release. Relax. The hawks may be watching, but we need them to roost for this plan to work out.

And I will not be the reason I don’t get to spend the rest of my life with Amval. Not now.