carried across 85

85 What Is She Doing Here. 

Sera 

I watched the stubborn defiance vanish from her eyes, instantly replaced by stark, naked terror. She stared at me, her chest rising and falling rapidly as the reality of my threat settled onto her face. She 

knew I wasn’t bluffing. 

After a long, suffocating silence, her shoulders slumped. 

She let out a shaky sigh. “Fine.” 

Irina rubbed her temples. “But how am I supposed to get the ingredients I need? The ritual requires very specific things. I need thick leaves. I need dark soil. There is no form of greenery in this frozen wasteland.” 

I cursed internally. That was true. I had hoped there would have been a simpler way to do it, or that she probably moved around with her own supplies in her luggage. 

Irina shrugged, taking a slow step backward toward the washroom. “I am sorry, Sera. If I do not have the ingredients, there is no way I can perform the ritual. Except there is a private garden that somehow survived in this wasteland, I cannot help you.” 

Private garden. 

“Wait,” I called out. 

Irina stopped near the washroom door. 

“Wait right there,” I told her. “I know a place.” 

I grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the guest chamber. We hurried through the dark, winding corridors of the fortress. I led her down to the lower levels, pushing through the heavy iron door that opened into the mountain fissure. 

We stepped out into the hidden thermal pocket. The humid air hit our faces. 

Irina gasped. She looked around at the towering green trees and the thick vines crawling up the black rock. “How is this possible?” she whispered, amazed to find a garden thriving in the middle of a frozen 

mountain. 

“Just get what you need,” I urged her. 

Irina knelt on the grass. She packed a handful of dark, wet soil into a spare piece of cloth she tore from her underskirt. She plucked several wide, thick-veined leaves from a low-hanging branch. 

“I still need raw animal fat,” Irina said, standing up and tying the cloth shut. 

I guided her out of the garden. We rushed back inside and headed straight for the main kitchens. The massive room was hot and loud, filled with servants shouting over the roar of the cooking fires. I walked 

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+25 Bonus 

directly up to the head chef. 

“I need a jar of raw animal fat,” I demanded. 

The chef wiped his massive hands on his apron. He gave me a highly suspicious look, his eyes darting to my mother standing nervously behind me. He opened his mouth to question the strange request. But then his eyes snagged on the dark purple bruising on my face. 

He remembered the fight in the yard. He remembered my win over Taya. I had earned a violent kind of respect in this fortress. I lied, telling him it was for a southern medicinal poultice for my ribs. He didn’t push it. He turned around, grabbed a small clay jar of rendered white fat from a wooden shelf, and 

handed it to me. 

I grabbed the jar. I immediately rushed my mother out of the kitchens and back up the stone stairs toward the second level. 

We reached the corridor outside the council room. The two Ironmaw guards were still standing by the cracked oak doors. 

Before I could even raise my fist to knock, the heavy door groaned and pulled open. 

Fenris stood in the doorway. He let out a heavy sigh the second he saw me. His broad shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch. He looked deeply relieved, like he had been standing there expecting me to return at any second. 

That single, unfiltered look made my chest feel incredibly warm inside. 

Then, his grey eyes shifted. He saw my mother standing behind me, clutching the cloth full of dirt and leaves. His expression hardened instantly into cold stone. 

“What is she doing here?” 

J 

Hotel Man 

+25 Bonus