Page 105 of A Kingdom of Wild and Power
Bryn did not answer. Instead, he asked, ‘Why are ya following me?’
The lack of an answer was, in itself, an answer.
‘You shouldn’t be alone,’ Kage said.
‘I’m not.’
Kage frowned, the words catching him off guard. Before he could ask what Bryn meant, the wolverian lifted two fingers to his mouth and released a sharp whistle. It was strange and haunting, as if it belonged more to the forest than to any man.
Seconds later, shadows shifted between the trees.
Wolves emerged silently, one by one, their bodies sleek andsure, their blue eyes bright with quiet intelligence as they fixed their stare on Kage. They were not enormous, not the stuff of legends and nightmares, but they did not need to be. There were enough of them. More than enough. A living wall of teeth and loyalty, ready to tear apart anything foolish enough to threaten their king.
‘I’m neva alone,’ Bryn said simply.
‘I see.’
Kage considered standing then. Considered turning away, slipping back into the dark where he belonged. Perhaps this was what Bryn wanted. To be left to his wolves and to his grief.
But Kage could not move.
Something stuck him there, beside the fire, its warmth useless against the ache in his chest. He remained crouched, the flames flickering between them, staring at Bryn as though the fire itself were a barrier he could not cross. Silently, desperately, he pleaded for the wolverian king to soften his glare. To let him stay, just a little longer.
‘During the day I—’
‘Ya don’t need to do that. I don’t need to know,’ Bryn cut in gently, before reaching for one of his thick furs and spreading it across the ground. He lay down with the ease of someone long accustomed to sleeping beneath open skies. Within minutes, his breathing evened out, deep and steady, and sleep claimed him.
Kage watched him.
He did not look away when Bryn drifted fully into rest, nor when the fire crackled low and the forest shifted around them. He remained where he was, seated beside the flames like a silent sentinel, his dark eyes tracking every rise and fall of the wolverian king’s chest.
All through the night, Kage kept watch.
When a sound stirred in the distance—a snappedtwig, the whisper of movement—he rose without hesitation to investigate, making certain no danger crept too close. At times, the wolves followed him soundlessly, their presence a quiet reassurance rather than a threat. Once or twice, they returned carrying rabbits in their jaws, laid at his feet as offerings.
Kage cooked them carefully and placed the food near Bryn so it would be there when dawn came.
He did not sleep.
He did not leave.
He simply stayed, guarding what little peace Bryn had left, until the night itself began to thin.
Kage watched the sky as it softened from black to ash-grey, then slowly bloomed into a clear, aching blue. It was a colour he had once taken for granted. Normally, he would be gone long before this moment, long before Bryn stirred, gone before the sun could claim him and drag him back to the Underworld.
But this time, Kage stayed.
He remained seated beside the fire long after it had guttered and died, its embers hissing faintly in the cold. His gaze never wavered from the heavens, and a quiet smile touched his lips as the first fingers of sunlight crept across the land. He wondered, distantly, if he would ever feel the warmth of the sun again, truly feel it, on his skin.
As dawn fully broke, Bryn began to stir.
Kage did not turn. He kept his eyes fixed ahead, as if sheer will might grant him this one final indulgence. And for a heartbeat, it did. The sunlight reached him, spilling across the ground, bathing the world in gold…
And then the earth gave way.
The ground beneath Kage split open without warning, darkness yawning wide as it swallowed him whole. There was no pain, only the sudden, ruthless pull of what claimed him.
The last thing Kage saw was Bryn’s face; horrified and wide-eyed, framed by the morning light, as the sun’s warmth melted over Kage like a benediction he could never keep.
