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She shouldn’t sound so desperate. She knew she shouldn’t.

But she was.

The man threw her one last pitying look before bowing deeply and hurrying away. Thicket stood there awkwardly, clutching her hands together as she did her best not to make eye contact with the bustling crowd.

They had spent the last three days gathering everything from swaths of fabric, barrels of food rations, ceramic bottles filled with healing salves—anything they could get their hands on—before packing them tightly into wagons in case they needed to evacuate. Lavender had caught them off guard too many times now, each assault resulting in too many unnecessary casualties. This time, they would be ready.

Or at least, as ready as they could be.

There was no telling how long it would be until Lavender attacked again. It wasn’t the preparations or the threat of an attack that had everyone on edge. It was not knowing when. Would they have days? Weeks? Hours?

Caspian had once told her that in a straightforward battle, strength would win each and every time. Thicket was stronger than Lavender. There was no changing that. But there were other means of thwarting Thicket. Trickery. Deceit. Fear.

Sending her army would be a present threat, but to withhold it was a strategy in and of itself. Lavender would force them to frantically prepare for every possibility until the fear of an attack ate them alive.

Thicket bit the inside of her lip—hard—forcing the thoughts away and focusing instead on the Plaza, searching for any openings she could use to step in and help. Those who weren’t preparing for a potential evacuation were setting up for the Pyre, a ceremony to honor those who had fallen during Lavender’s last attack. She was about to approach the group organizing logs for the bonfire when a blur streaked towards her. Thicket staggered as the weight of two paws crashed into her chest, followed by a warm, slick presence on her chin.

“Bayo!” Thicket laughed, pushing the wolf’s muzzle away to divert the onslaught of kisses. Around her, people gasped and shrank back. Thicket didn’t blame them. For a century, wolves had been something to fear. Any animal had been.

After the attack, Thicket had opened a section in the wall, allowing the animals she freed from Lavender’s control to return to wherever it was they called home. However some had stayed, including the wolf who had scarred Thicket and ruined her totem, the one thing tethering Thicket to her Aneuma. It had insisted on following her around and refused to leave no matter how many times she told the wolf to go. Eventually, Bayo wore her down.

While the absence of her kiwi still haunted her, Thicket knew Bayo wasn’t at fault. None of the animals were. They were prisoners, just like the rest of them, and with the stress of the past few days, the wolf’s companionship helped to fill the hole her kiwi’s absence had left.

So, Thicket had named her.

“Now you’ve gone and done it,” Marcellus had said, frowning when Thicket introduced Bayo to him for the first time. “She’ll never leave you alone now that you’ve named her.”

Thicket was more than okay with that.

“Down, girl. You’re going to make people think you’re trying to eat me.”

Bayo dropped onto her hind legs, head tilted up expectantly at Thicket. She bent to scratch the fluffy fur behind her ears.

“What are you even doing here?” she asked.

“That’s my fault,” said a breathless voice.

Thicket’s head jerked up to lock eyes with Elian. Her stomach flipped. He was as charming as always, with his bright, easygoing smile and slightly tousled straw-colored hair.

Elian was her fiancé, though only through a previous arrangement to secure an alliance between Dymree and Vindrya. Though their wedding had been called off when Thicket was cursed, Elian was forced to remain, trapped inside the wall like everyone else and completely cut off from his homeland. Despite having no memory of him or their engagement, Thicket couldn’t help but be pulled towards him. He was kind and thoughtful and everything a fiancé should be. Before she knew it, she had agreed to give their relationship a chance and see if they could be something together—without the pressure of an engagement weighing on them.

With all that had happened afterwards, they hadn’t found a proper chance to talk. In that time, she realized they never established what they were. Fiancés? Girlfriend and boyfriend? A friend but more? It had also dawned on her that she had no idea how to be any of those things. What did she do when she saw him now? She wanted to say hi, but her mouth wouldn’t open. She wondered if she should hug him. Kiss him? But her feet wouldn’t budge. All she could do was sit there, staring at him as he struggled to catch his breath.

“I stopped by the house to see if you were home,” he said, smoothing back his tousled locks as he finally managed to control his breathing. “As soon as I opened the door she took off.”

“Sorry about that. She doesn’t like being left alone.”

“I gathered by how fast she ran.”

Thicket managed a meager nervous laugh.

Silence fell.

She swallowed. “Did you need something? From me, I mean.”

“Not necessarily.” Elian rubbed the side of his head, averting his gaze, as if the awkwardness pouring from her had made its way to him. “I just… wanted to see you.”

And, see how she was coping with everything were the words he didn’t say. Not that he needed to. It was written all over his face.