He paused and when no one spoke he continued.
"I'll make this very simple," he said. "I am the legitimate Forest King. She belongs to me by binding contract and fae law. If you keep her, you commit an act of theft against a ruling monarch. That is grounds for war." He paused, letting that sink in. "The question is whether you're willing to face those consequences."
The chittering of the pixies grew louder, more agitated. The cracks in the ground between them and the stones widened slightly, frost crawling along their edges. The temperature continued to drop, her breath misting in the air, and she realized with cold clarity that he was showing them what war would look like. The corruption spreading. The decay. The slow death of everything the Star Court had built.
"Think about it," Malus said, his voice almost kind now, which made it worse somehow. His eyes found hers again, and she felt the autumn marks pulse against her throat. "Is she really worth it?"
The question wasn't just for Arion. It was for all of them. For Eliam, who held her against his chest with arms that still trembled from exhaustion. For Karse, whose burned arm hung useless at his side. For Thaine, barely able to stand. All of them broken and bleeding because of her choices, her mistakes, her desperate attempt to escape what she'd bargained herself into.
"You have no answer?" Malus's smile turned cruel. "How telling. Perhaps you're already realizing the inevitable." He stepped back from the border, just one step, but it felt like a concession pulled from him against his will. "When you come to your senses, you know where to find me. My patience is not finite, don’t make me wait long."
His gaze locked on Briar one final time, and when he spoke, his voice carried across the distance as clearly as if he whispered directly in her ear. "And you, dear one. You canrun to whatever sanctuary you like, hide behind whatever court offers protection. But you're mine and every night when you close your eyes, I'll be there. Waiting. Calling. Until you remember that your place is with me."
The marks tightened suddenly, not quite painful but impossible to ignore. A promise and a threat wrapped together. She could feel his magic through them, testing the distance, the barriers, looking for any weakness to exploit.
Then he turned, his coat swirling around him, and walked back into the forest. The corrupted pixies followed, their chittering fading as they disappeared into the darkness between trees. The cracks in the earth remained, frost-filled and wrong, a reminder of what stood just beyond the border.
For a long moment, no one moved. The Star Court soldiers kept their arrows trained on the tree line, waiting for another attack that didn't come. Briar could hear her own breathing, harsh and uneven, could feel Eliam's heart hammering where her cheek pressed against his chest.
"Move," Arion said finally, his voice tight. "Get them across. Now."
They crossed the border in a rush, soldiers forming a protective barrier as they passed between the standing stones. Briar felt the change immediately, the oppressive weight of Malus's presence lifting. The blue glow of the stones washed over her, and the warmth in her chest pulsed with something like relief.
But the autumn marks at her throat remained. Still pulling, still reminding her that no matter how many borders she crossed, she carried her chains with her.
The moment they were fully on Star Court land, her body decided it had endured enough. The darkness that had been creeping at the edges of her vision rushed in all at once, and she felt herself going limp in Eliam's arms.
She heard voices, Arion shouting orders, Karse cursing, someone running, but they sounded distant, underwater. The last thing she was aware of before consciousness left completely was the warmth in her chest settling, content now that it was near its other half, even as the autumn marks at her throat whispered promises she didn't want to hear.
Then nothing.
Chapter twenty-one
Consciousness returned in fragments, like pieces of a shattered mirror slowly reassembling. First came awareness of warmth—not the oppressive heat of Malus's chambers or the cold bite of healing magic, but something alive. A heartbeat that wasn't hers, steady and strong beneath her ear. Arms wrapped around her middle, holding her against a chest that rose and fell with each breath. The scent of forest and rain and something darker, something that made the warmth in her chest pulse with recognition.
Eliam.
She kept her eyes closed, not ready to face whatever came next. Not ready to see his expression, to deal with questions or the aftermath of everything that had happened. Her throat ached where Malus had bitten her, where Eliam had fed. Her body felt heavy, disconnected, like it belonged to someone else entirely.
The room around them was quiet except for their breathing. She could hear wind beyond windows, the soft crackle of a dying fire. The bed beneath them was impossibly soft, furs and silk that smelled of winter flowers. Star Court chambers, then. Safety, or at least the illusion of it.
She felt the moment Eliam's breathing changed, the subtle shift from sleep to waking. His arms tightened around her reflexively, pulling her closer, and she heard him draw in a sharp breath through his nose. His whole body went rigid against her back.
"You're awake," he said, his voice rough from sleep but carrying something else underneath. Not quite relief. Not quite anger. Something raw that she couldn't name.
She didn't answer, couldn't find words. The silence stretched between them, filled only by the crackle of dying embers and the wind beyond the windows.
His hand moved from her waist, sliding up to her throat with careful deliberation. His fingers found the bite marks—both of them. Malus's on one side, his own on the other. She felt him go completely still as he traced the wounds with his fingertips, mapping the damage with a gentleness that felt wrong coming from him.
"How long?" Her voice came out cracked, barely recognizable.
"A day and a half." His hand didn't leave her throat, fingers resting against her pulse. "Your body needed time to recover from the blood loss."
From feeding him. From giving him enough of herself to break those chains, to shadow-walk them all to safety. The memory made her throat tighten, made the marks pulse with a dull ache.
"The others?" she managed.
"Alive. Recovering." His thumb stroked along the side of her neck, almost absently, like he was reassuring himself she was real. "Karse's arm is healing. Thaine is being insufferable about his heroics. Ferria is... present."
