“I don’t need you to save me.” Her chin lifts. Defiant. “I need you to point me at the enemy and stay out of my way.”
A sensation stirs in me. Not the King—a warmer feeling. One I thought I’d excised long ago when I accepted that the binding meant solitude. That protecting the forest meant isolation.
“The enemy is an army,” I say. “With fire weapons and siege equipment and enough bodies to overwhelm any defense I can mount alone.”
“Then we don’t let them overwhelm us.” She’s near enough now that I can see the individual strands of dark hair that have escaped her practical cut, clinging to her temples with sweat. “We hit them before they’re ready. I’ve spent years making bigger forces regret underestimating me.”
“And you think that will work against the Consortium?”
“I think it’s our only option.” Her hand comes up, palm pressing flat against my chest. I feel the contact like a brand, hot through the thin leather of my armor. “You can control the forest. I can read people. If we work in concert, we might have a chance. Alone, we’re both dead.”
Her hand is warm on my chest, and her eyes are fierce in a way that makes my blood run hot, and for the first time since the binding took hold, I want a thing that has nothing to do with the forest.
“You’re asking me to trust you.”
“I’m asking you to work with me.” Her fingers curl slightly, pressing into the leather. “Trust can come later. Or never. But right now, we need each other.”
The King’s voice whispers through my thoughts, distant but present: She makes you weak. Kill her before she destroys everything.
I ignore it.
“Fine.” The word comes out rough. “We work as a unit until the Consortium is dealt with. After that...” I wrap my hand around her wrist, feel her pulse jumping against my palm. “After that, we see where we stand.”
She doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t break eye contact. Just watches me for another long moment before nodding.
“Deal.”
I release her. Step back. Force air into lungs that feel too tight.
“The tunnels lead to the outer reaches. From there, we can approach the Consortium’s position from behind.” I turn toward the exit, hiding whatever expression might be showing on my face. “Stay close. Don’t touch anything. And whatever happens?—”
THIRTEEN
THAROS
We emerge from the bone hollows into a forest that feels tense, watchful. The trees have drawn in on themselves, branches curled tight like fists waiting to strike. The constant creaking of living wood has taken on a different quality—not the slow breathing I’ve grown accustomed to, but faster. More urgent.
A frightened forest is a dangerous one.
“This way.” I lead her through a gap in the undergrowth that only exists because I will it to exist. The briars open reluctantly, closing behind us with thorns that glisten dark in the filtered light. “We need to circle around to the east. The Consortium will be focused on the main approach to the Heartgrove. They won’t expect an attack from behind.”
“How do you know which direction they’re coming from?”
“I feel them.” I pause, reaching for the forest’s awareness. The King’s presence lurks at the edges, but the forest itself is still mine to read. “A mass of heartbeats, moving in formation. The siege engine is in the center, protected by a ring of hunters. They’re burning everything in their path.”
She makes a sound of disgust. “Scorched earth.”
“It’s effective. The forest can regenerate from most damage, but fire...” I press my hand against a nearby trunk, feel the tree shudder under my touch. “Fire leaves scars that don’t heal. The King feeds on the forest’s pain just as much as it feeds on human suffering.”
“Then we need to move faster.”
She does just that—picking up her pace, moving through the forest with a confidence that surprises me. She’s adapting. Learning the rhythm of the thornpaths, the way to step without triggering the roots that want to trip her. I’ve seen hunters spend days in Briargrave without learning what she’s grasped in hours.
“You’re getting better at this,” I say.
“I’m a fast learner.” She ducks beneath a reaching vine without slowing. “When I have to be.”
We travel in silence after that. The forest presses close around us, but it doesn’t attack—not while I’m directing it, channeling its fear into watchfulness instead of aggression. I can feel Xela’s presence like a second heartbeat, moving in sync with mine as we navigate the treacherous paths.
