She heaved herself back up onto the thick tree trunk that lay precariously over the water, soaked, bruised, and one insult away from punching Petrina in the throat. The fish below scattered at her movement, their scales flickering like bits of glass. Dragonflies hovered across the sunlit surface, looping around like they had nothing better to do.
Selene watched them and squeezed pond water from her braid. She’d give anything for the ability to fly at the moment. To be free. Weightless.
Untrapped.
Petrina, absolutely dry, motioned Selene forward on the log they’d long worn smooth of debris. “Again.”
She bit back a groan. The Blades had trained her hard, too, but they at least offered a grin, a taunt, some shred of encouragement. Petrina fought like she was trying to kill her. Which she might very well be.
Still, there wasn’t much else to do. Nine days in a barricaded village gave few options: train, or go mad.
Or have conversations with Roman that went nowhere. Like: “Mother will explain when she returns,” or, “You’re safe from outsiders here. Trust me,” and, “Lie low.Your friend is an outsider, and technically, so are you.”
He always said things like that. Calm. Final. Smiling.
And stupidly, Selene was the reason they were trapped in this village in the first place.
“You deserve to know who you really are,” he’d told her. “Let me help you.”
Petrina muttered her distrust of the man a dozen times a day—at minimum—but Selene hadn’t listened. And though she’d expected her to, Petrina had refused to leave Selene’s side.
Now they were walled in, watched, and kept waiting for their leader to return from the mainland of Okos. Trapped by her own hope. Any movement near the outer gate was met with multiple armed guards.
The village itself was almost beautiful enough to make her forget. It sat nestled in a lush valley, hemmed in by cliffs and waterfalls, a winding river weaving through its heart. Vines curled around stone buildings like jewelry. Mist threaded between trees. Wildflowers sprouted from the very walls.
But every time she looked up, all she saw was that wall. That gate. Those guards.
This wasn’t a sanctuary. It was a cage.
Selene braced to battle Petrina again—muscles trembling, sun in her eyes—then gave up with a long exhale. “I’m done.”
Petrina arched a brow. “You’re unfocused.”
“I’m drowning.”
“Only halfway.”
Selene dropped her face into her hands. She wanted to scream. To run. To fly.
She wanted Augustus. He wasn’t just a comfort—he was a tether. A promise. And something inside her said he was in danger. That she was wasting time. Every day she stayed here, silent and unseen, the world kept moving without her.
Her anxiety might have had something to do with a dream she had that morning. In it, the dronsian had licked Augustus’s cheek, and he groaned.“You ruin everything.”
Selene woke laughing, only to erupt into tears.
Petrina sighed and softened her stance. “Come on. We’re done for today.”
They circled the village’s edge on their walk back. If she ignored the perimeter wall, the place was almost peaceful. But Selene couldn’t shake the tension in her shoulders or the ache behind her ribs.
By the time they reached their modest house of moss-capped timber, Selene’s tunic clung to her skin, and her boots squelched. She pulled off her wet clothes, tossed them toward the corner, and sat heavily on the edge of the bed.
“I want to go,” she said quietly, pulling on a dry shirt. “We need to go.”
Petrina, already shucking off her own tunic, didn’t even blink. “I’ve been saying that since we got here.”
Selene sighed. “Your I-told-you-so is wholly unwelcome right now. I’m sorry I got us into this. And now we’re trapped?—”
Petrina grabbed her wrist. “I can get us out.”
