Page 52 of Ravenous
Eyrun gestured toward the twitching hand. “Maybe she won’t wake soon, but she reacts when heavy shit goes down in the Skein. That’s the most twitching I’ve ever seen. Could mean something epic.”
Ven arched a brow. “Is that why you like chaos? Are you trying to jolt her awake?”
“Just passing the time between battles.”
“Fair enough.” Ven moved to the tower window and gazed out at the night. Aurora and lightning umbrellaed the area. Below, dozens of Valkyries sparred, practicing their already lethal moves.
Training, passing the time. What else was there?
Movement flickered across a snow-dusted field. A glint of armor in the lightning.
Her stomach tightened, and the sword at her side seemed to hum. “Fucking Chiyo.Here?” No one trespassed in Valhalland, because most shied away from certain death.
Chiyo was long-lived—like Ven, she’d come to the Skein in the original Exile—but age must not have brought wisdom.
Eyrun joined her at the window, whistling low. “The guts on that one, huh? Talk about a stone-cold fox. I’m almost impressed.”
But Ven was already running, her boots echoing off the spiral steps. Outside, she sped over the field that separated her from Chiyo. The fox didn’t flinch when Ven skidded to a stop right before her, so close their breaths mingled.
Eyrun arrived a heartbeat later, hand on her own sword.
“The hells are you doing in our territory?” Ven snarled.
Chiyo sniffed the chill air, glancing around warily.
“No need to look around. The threat is directly in front of you.”
“I came to talk,” Chiyo said evenly. “To tell you I didn’t sanction the witches’ actions. And that their new leader—Ditch—wouldn’t have either.”
Ven tilted her head. “Then why attack? To hide your cattle theft?”
“No. Rosewyn wanted to start a conflict. She could have killed you with her opening shot, but she didn’t. She wanted you angry. She wanted you to take the fight to Ditch.”
Eyrun nodded with understanding. “Ah. A chaos connoisseur.”
“Uh, no? She just hates the high priestess and wants help taking her out.”
Ven frowned. “If Rosewyn could’ve killed us, why did she allow Eyrun to bite parts off of her?”
“She allowed herself not to finish you and took her lumps.”
“Hardcore.”Again, Rose, we coulda been best friends.“Why tell us this?”
“Because my fate is tied to the witches.” Some said Chiyo had an illness—strange for an immortal—that only their potions could hold at bay. “A war withValkyries would destroy their coven. And me with it.” She gestured toward the yard, where warriors had stilled, watching with glowing eyes. Lightning backlit their bodies, a wall of fury.
Even Ven had to admit it: the sight was supernaturally eerie.
Chiyo straightened, trying to look unbothered, but Ven heard her heart pumping harder. “We’ve picked up the intensity coming from this stronghold from miles away,” she said. Then her gaze darted around them again. The growing moon and the slight breeze seemed to put her even more on edge.
Ven’s own uneasiness deepened. Something in the Skein unnerved this fox shifter more than an army of shield-maidens. “What do you sense?”
“Trouble,” Chiyo said simply. “Lots of it, attacking in waves. How can you not feel it?”
Ven’s jaw flexed.I can!“An Accession’s always trouble.”
“Not like this.” Chiyo shook her head, her long hair cascading over her slim, armored shoulders. “Something’s coming. The kind of something you can’t hide from.” Her claw-tipped fingers hovered above her sword.
Ven remembered watching her fight once—elegant, relentless, unflinching. The kind of enemy you’d rather trade war stories with than kill. And Freya help her, Ven felt conflicting urges to do both. “You’ve got your ear to the ground,” Ven said. “What are you hearing?”What are you fearing?
