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The words hang in the air like a challenge, but neither of them picks up on the real cause of my frustration.

They don’t know the truth, not the whole truth. I haven’t told them about Oberon and me. I only told them he left. I am struggling with that, struggling with what it means that he walked away, leaving me behind in the wake of a decision I can’t understand. I can’t even explain it to myself. What are we anymore? What is he even thinking?

I know Oberon has been struggling. I know he is hurting. But to push me away, to shut me out like that . . . I don’t know how to make sense of it. And the worst part? He isn’t here for us to talk it through, to fix whatever went wrong. Not when I need him most. If there even is an “us” anymore. I shove the thought aside, refusing to let it linger.

He is hurting, I tell myself. Maybe, in some twisted way, he thinks he is protecting me by distancing himself. But I can’t let go of him, not after everything we’ve been through. I am not going to let him get rid of me that easily.

Zander’s voice breaks through my thoughts, steady and authoritative. “The plan’s simple,” he says, his gaze scanning the clearing before settling back on us. “We hide, we wait, we attack.”

I roll my eyes and lean against a tree, arms crossed tightly over my chest. “And if they don’t show?” I ask, the doubt creeping into my voice despite myself.

Ash shrugs, his usual cocky confidence on full display. “The info Oberon gave us is good. They’ll show,” he says, as if that is the end of the discussion.

My stomach twists at the mention of his name, and before I can stop myself, the words escape. “Because he’s never wrong?” I snap, my voice colder than I intend.

Zander shoots me a look, his expression slightly more serious now. “Not usually,” he replies, a quiet honesty in his words.

“Great. How reassuring,” I mutter under my breath, my frustration bleeding through once again.

Ash’s gaze flicks to me, noticing the shift in my mood. “Seriously, what has gotten into you today?” he asks, his voice losing its usual playful edge.

“Nothing,” I snap, almost too quickly. Then, realizing how defensive I sound, I add, “I’m perfectly fine.”

Zander raises an eyebrow, his voice dry with amusement. “We can tell.”

I roll my eyes again, pushing off from the tree and pacing slightly, my nerves starting to fray. “I just hope they get here soon so we can get this over with,” I say, the weight of everything hanging on my words, even if I don’t want to admit it.

Ash, still trying to goad me into some kind of reaction, smirks. “I thought you wanted to be here?”

“I did,” I snap, before catching myself. “I mean, I do,” I correct, my voice softening just a fraction.

I let out a deep breath, trying to steady myself, to shove down the whirlwind of emotions that has been controlling me since Oberon left. But they cling to me, twisting and writhing beneath the surface, demanding to be felt. I clench my fists, forcing them away, forcing myself to clear my head. I can’t afford to be distracted.

This isn’t Ash’s fault or Zander’s.

They don’t deserve to bear the weight of my frustration, no matter how much I want to lash out, to find some kind of release from the rage inside me. Snapping at them won’t change anything. It won’t bring Oberon back, won’t answer the questions that cling to my mind.

And more than that, I need to be sharp. If my emotions get the better of me, if I’m not at my best when the enemy arrives, it won’t just be me who pays the price.

Ash and Zander are depending on me. If I let myself spiral, if I lose focus, I could get them hurt. Or worse.

I take a seat and steady my breath, clearing my mind. There isn’t anything I can do now but wait. Wait for the supply run, wait for Oberon to return, wait to see how this whole thing plays out.

It is so far out of my control now.

After what feels like hours, the distant rhythm of hoofbeats breaks the silence, a steady drumming against the dirt. I keep my eyes closed for a moment longer, listening, feeling the vibrations humming through the ground beneath me. Before I can move, Zander nudges my foot lightly with the toe of his boot.

My eyes snap open, locking onto his. He doesn’t say a word, just holds a finger to his lips in a silent command before gesturing for me to move deeper into the woods. Ash is already ahead of us, slipping into the shadows with practiced ease, his movements silent and controlled.

The hoofbeats grow louder, accompanied by the low murmur of voices drifting through the stillness of the forest. The sound curls around the trees, breaking the eerie quiet that settles over us.

I can make out fragments of conversation too faint to decipher, but enough to know they aren’t alone.

Heart pounding, I melt into the cover of the trees, every muscle coiled and ready. The waiting is over.

The moment the soldiers break into the clearing, we strike.

Zander is the first to move, vanishing from his position and reappearing behind the closest soldier, his blade flashing in the dim light.