Chapter 75: The Vessel in Blackridge

The cold pressed against Nora's cheeks as she crouched behind the frozen ridge overlooking Blackridge's widows' sanctuary. Stone walls, iron roof, narrow windows that let in more cold than light. Twenty-three women who had outlived their mates, housed together because no Alpha wanted the burden of a single widow in his territory. Nora lowered the spyglass. "She's in there." Darius knelt beside her, his shoulder brushing hers. "The sanctuary is neutral ground. Even I can't enter without the Council's warrant." "Then we don't enter." She slid the spyglass into her coat pocket. "We find someone who can." She turned and made her way down the slope, boots finding purchase in frozen gravel. Darius followed without question. At the bottom of the ridge, Maeve waited with the cart. Hope slept in the sling across Maeve's chest, her small face pressed against the wool. "I need you to go in," Nora said. "You were Blackridge staff. You have a reason to seek shelter. No one will question you." Maeve's hand went to the sling. "And Hope?" "She stays with me." Nora lifted her daughter carefully, cradling the warmth against her chest. "You're my eyes. Nothing more. Find Lorna Vale. Observe her. Don't engage." "And if they discover me?" "They won't." Nora held Maeve's gaze. "Because if they find you, they find us. And I'm not ready to burn this ground yet." Maeve nodded. She adjusted her coat, pulled a worn scarf over her hair, and walked toward the sanctuary gate. Nora watched her go. The wind carried the scent of woodsmoke and cold stone. Behind her, Darius shifted closer. His hand settled on her lower back--just a touch, an anchor. "She'll be careful," he said. "Careful isn't enough." Nora turned her face toward him. "The patron doesn't just hide. She waits. She watches through the vessel's eyes. If Lorna sees Maeve and knows what Maeve carries--" "Then we move faster." His hand slid to her waist. "You decide the pace, Nora. I follow." She closed her eyes. The wind howled across the ridge. Time passed. The sky turned gray, then darker. Snow began to fall--small, hard flakes. Then the sanctuary door opened. Maeve stepped out. Her face was pale. She walked quickly, arms crossed, and when she reached the cart, she simply held out her hand. In her palm lay a small woven blanket. Blue wool. Frayed at the edges. The same blanket Nora had wrapped around Hope that morning. "She took it from the sling while I was pretending to warm my hands," Maeve said. Her voice shook. "Lorna Vale. She walked right up to me, smiled, and said the baby needed more covering. Then she tucked this into her own coat and walked away." Nora stared at the blanket. Snow gathered on the wool, melting into the threads. The vessel had already seen them. Nora's breath caught. She turned instinctively toward Darius, and he was already there--his chest against her back, his arms coming around her and Hope together. She felt his heartbeat through the layers, steady and sure. "She knows we're here," Nora whispered. "Then we stop hiding." His lips brushed her temple, featherlight. "We go in together." She tipped her head back, letting the weight of her skull rest against his shoulder. His arm tightened across her ribs, careful not to press Hope. The snow landed on their joined hands. "After dark," Nora said. "We go in after dark." Darius pressed his mouth to the curve of her neck--once, just a breath--and then pulled back. The cold rushed in where his heat had been. She looked at the sanctuary. Light flickered behind the narrow windows. Somewhere in there, Lorna Vale waited with her daughter's blanket in her hands.