The Stone Wolf (The Chain Breaker Book 4) by D.K. Holmberg (digital book reader TXT) 📕

to know. But seeing as how you succeeded, I suppose we will continue.”

“I got it… then lost it.”

Tristan tensed. “What do you mean you lost it?”

Gavin swallowed. “I don’t know what happened. I had it, Tristan. Then when I was making my way—”

A fist swung toward him, and Gavin ducked beneath it.

Tristan sat back as if nothing had happened. “How did you lose it?”

“Because I was injured. Beaten. And you weren’t there.”

“What makes you think someone will be there for you when you need them?” Tristan’s voice was dangerous and low.

“They won’t,” Gavin said.

“No, they won’t. You must learn to function on your own.” Tristan clenched his jaw. “Had you succeeded, I would have let you rest.”

Gavin tensed. Rest was what he needed now.

“Since you failed…” Tristan looked at him. “Go. Take this time to contemplate your failure. We will be leaving early in the morning.”

Gavin got to his feet and fought back the pain exacerbated by the effort he had exerted to walk here. He staggered off and settled into the room to sleep. When he awoke, darkness still streamed in through the window, and he headed down to the tavern so that he’d be there before Tristan.

He paused in the doorway. Tristan was already sitting in a booth, talking to a dark-haired man. Gavin stepped back, but not before he heard a word that he couldn’t quite understand, one that came from a language he hadn’t learned.

Gavin waited until the man disappeared and then stepped out into the tavern, joining Tristan. His mentor never said anything about it.

“It’s time to go.”

Gavin nodded and limped toward the door. His ankle didn’t hurt nearly as much as it had before, and he tried to push the pain out, but even that was a struggle.

As they reached the horses, Gavin kept waiting for Tristan to say something more about his failure, but he never did.

Chapter Five

Darkness greeted Gavin as he came awake, and he stared up at the ceiling. That had been the last time he’d failed Tristan. Neither had spoken of it since, though the dynamic had changed between them after that. Gavin had never understood why, and he’d pushed himself in his training, not wanting to fail again.

He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He slipped on the enchantment for just a moment, long enough for him to make out the contents of the room.

The night’s rest had done him good. He had needed it, to get back to some semblance of recovery, and he felt as if he could finally reach for the power within him and use something of it to help him restore his strength. At least now if he were to face a test, he didn’t think he’d struggle quite as much as he had before. But why did he have the dreams he did?

Maybe it was because he’d seen Tristan.

There were things about that time that had faded from him, but they had started to come back ever since he’d encountered Tristan in the city. Even before that, though, some things had started resurfacing when he had met up with Cyran.

Gavin got to his feet, and for a moment he expected a flare of pain in his ankle, as if the dream had been real. But there was no pain, other than the aches he felt from fighting through the attackers the night before.

It was time for him to work with Wrenlow. He headed out of the underground room and used his core reserves to seal the door. He looked around the street. From the way sunlight slanted along the buildings, it had to be midday, which meant that Gavin had slept longer than he had intended—hopefully, it had been only the one night, not more than that. He felt rested, which was always a challenge when he used as much magic as he had. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d slept more than he thought.

Gavin headed toward the Dragon. A bright sun shone down overhead, streaming through a few wispy clouds and giving a warmth to the day that was not completely pushed away by the occasional cool gust of wind. A pleasing fragrance hung in the air from the flowers and trees on the edge of the city, as well as the vegetables, breads, and roasting meats from a nearby market. Gavin stayed clear of the market, mostly out of a desire to avoid drawing anyone’s attention, but everything around him felt alive.

It was reassuring.

He had committed to offering Yoran a level of protection, and he was determined to do just that. These people didn’t want to deal with magic, at least not the overt violence of the sorcerers they had once dealt with. They deserved something more, which was why he had stayed, to ensure that the city was protected from the Fates and any danger they might bring. Gavin had no idea if the Fates would even try anything more here, but he wouldn’t put it past them to do so.

He reached one of the main streets of the city. The crowd of people started to increase, giving Gavin a chance to blend in and feel for any sense of movement that would signify somebody trying to follow him. He wouldn’t put it past Tristan to track him down and send someone after him. Still, he didn’t feel any sense of magic or detect anything out here whatsoever.

Maybe he was safe, at least for now.

By the time he reached the Dragon, he realized maybe he hadn’t gotten nearly as much sleep as he had thought. He still felt tired, which suggested it had been only a single night of sleep.

Gavin paused in front of the main entrance. Though the wooden door was simple, an incredibly detailed dragon head was carved into it. He hesitated before pushing open the door, debating whether he wanted to go through the main part of the tavern or whether he wanted to sneak up and around.

Going through the tavern meant running