I don’t have to force myself into the shape of a faction that was never mine. I don’t have to keep trying to make my power look like theirs. I belong to the earth, not to a court, not to a kingdom, and that truth–however vague–frees something in me that felt caged in my search.
Finally, I don’t feel like I’m failing at being someone. I am simply becoming.
The thought steadies me as I glance back at Sylvin, already picturing the chaos he’ll bring with him to the nest. I can almost picture the look on Riven’s face when he finds the smug fae king standing beside me.
The image draws a slow smile to my lips.
I don’t know what I’ll find in the vampire lands. I don’t know what part of myself I’ll see reflected in their shadows, but at least I can walk into their world without the weight of trying to fit inside it.
I’m not theirs, and I don’t need to be.
Chapter 22
Wren
We stand at the edge of the portal, sunlight slanting through the trees and catching on the tips of Sylvin’s white-blond hair. The grove around us is quiet, still held in that lingering peace, but my thoughts have already begun to shift. Not toward what’s next, but to what I’m leaving behind.
Natasha is probably still searching for trousers I’ll never have a chance to wear now.
I think of the way she patiently sifted through the glamorous wardrobe this morning. She didn’t fuss or act like I was a headache to help. She was simply steady and kind, with no ounce of judgment in her kind soul.
I wish I could have said goodbye.
The guilt curls unexpectedly in my chest, a low,insistent ache. I didn’t think my time here would be so short, but the offensive attack against the humans is coming soon, and I can’t afford to spend more time in a land that’s already given me the answers it could. If I want true clarity to understand where I stand in this war, I have to see all the factions before the battle begins.
The ground trembles in agreement and I sigh in relief.
Still...Natasha deserves more than me disappearing without a word and my absence sending her back to work for someone unkind.
I glance at Sylvin. “Will Natasha be okay? Will she go back to whoever she was assigned to before me?”
He doesn’t answer right away, just watches me with that unreadable look of his–too many thoughts flickering behind bright blue eyes.
“No,” he says softly. “She won’t be returning to that household. They didn’t treat her kindly, and I won’t send her back into that.”
Relief eases some of the tension lining my shoulders.
“I’ll tell her she’s to remain on my payroll,” he continues. “Your room at the castle will be kept exactly as you left it. Freshened daily. As if you might walk back through the door at any moment.”
My breath catches.
That...shouldn’t mean as much as it does.
I don’t say anything right away. I study him for a moment, the slope of his shoulders, the curve of his smirk, and the genuine kindness radiating from his words.
“Thank you,” I say finally, voice low. “For that. For her.”
His eyes meet mine and I get a glimpse into the rare, unguarded glimmer of a man who wants to be seen and accepted.
“I’ll come back one day,” I add, almost surprised by the truth in the words. “I don’t know how soon, but I will.”
His smirk shifts into a tender smile as he bumps my shoulder with his.
“I’ll hold you to that, little echo.”
A quiet breath escapes me at the nickname. I hadn’t realized I’d missed him using it in favor of my chosen name.
He releases my hand and clambers to his feet, wiping his pants of dirt as I push to stand beside him.
