Page 90 of Property of Scar

Ruckus doesn’t break stride, nor do I.

I step through… and the shift hits on the next step.

The air changes first—thicker and colder.

Real, in a way, the Court wasn’t.

The ground settles under my boots, the subtle distortion of the fae realm falling away all at once like a pressure releasing.

Behind me, I hear the others follow, Rhett first, boots hitting the dirt with a muted thud, Bennett just after him, quieter and controlled, Ruckus follows with ease, then Raze, the tension in him still carrying through the movement. Cali guides Roxy through last, her grip firm and steady, making sure she clears the threshold without stumbling.

The trees close in around us again, New Hampshire reclaiming the space without ceremony.

Raze exhales behind me, the sound rough, like he’s been holding it longer than he realized.

We don’t stop walking immediately, putting distance between ourselves and the archway, the instinct unspoken but shared, the need to be clear of it before anything else is said, sitting heavy between us.

Only when the forest settles fully around us, when the air tastes like dirt, cold, and something that doesn’t watch back, only then does the tension start to ease.

Rhett breaks first. “Did anyone else get the feeling that the fae queen wanted to eat us?” he says, his voice cutting through the quiet with a rough edge of disbelief.

“She’s fae,” Bennett says. “They all want to eat us.”

“Fair point.”

“She wanted Roxy.” Raze’s voice comes from the front, level, and certain.

Roxy tips her head. “She wanted my power, not me specifically.”

Raze pulls her closer without breaking stride. “Same thing.”

The quiet stretches just long enough to matter before Rhett shifts closer, dropping his voice toward Bennett, “You think she meant it? That she didn’t send the prince?”

Bennett takes a moment. A real one. “Fae can’t lie.”

The words hang there.

Rhett shifts his weight, then jerks his chin toward Cali and me.

Bennett follows it, watching for a second.

“So… that’s gonna be a thing,” he mutters.

Rhett huffs a quiet laugh. “Big thing.”

Bennett shakes his head slightly. “He’s older. More repressed.”

“Explosions are gonna be epic.”

“Agreed.”

I don’t turn around. “I can hear you assholes.”

“We know,” Rhett says.

“We don’t care,” Bennett adds.

The woodland path is dark, quiet, and I am extremely old and apparently the subject of my prospects’ betting pool, which is something I will be addressing in the morning. “Then you won’t care when I assign you both to scrub the fight cages for a month.”