"They were following you," he said, as if explaining something obvious. "Things that follow wounded prey usually intend to finish it."
"We were trying to find her before the other hunters did," Arion said carefully, still maintaining that soft light that pushed gently at the edges of Karse's heat. "We're not participating in the hunt. We're trying to stop it."
Karse laughed, short and sharp. "Fae helping a human? Out of kindness?" His flames grew hotter. "I've been in enough fae chains to know how that story ends."
"Not all fae—" Sian started.
"Yes,allfae." Karse's voice went flat. "You take what you want and dress it up in pretty words. Laws. Bargains.Hunts." He looked at Briar. "They'll kill you or keep you. There's no third option with their kind."
"These ones are different," Briar managed, though the words felt weak even to her.
"Different." He considered this, fingers still loose but ready around Halian's throat. "The one with light magic keeps looking at you like you're his. The water witch is calculating how to drown me. And this one—" he squeezed slightly, making Halian wheeze, "—is trying to work his fingers to something sharp in his pocket."
Halian's hand stilled.
"See? Fae." Karse's tone carried the satisfaction of a proven point. "They can't help their nature."
The silence that followed was heavy. Finally, Karse let Halian drop. The fae collapsed to his knees, gasping, one hand pressed to his throat where dark bruises were already forming.
Sian moved to Halian's side, water still swirling around her fingers as she helped him sit up. He waved her off, one hand pressed to his throat, already assessing his own damage with the clinical detachment of a healer.
Arion took a step toward Briar.
Karse shifted immediately, placing himself directly in Arion's path. The flames around his hands dimmed but didn't extinguish, the heat still palpable in the air between them.
"She needs help," Arion said, keeping his voice level.
"She has help. Mine." Karse didn't move. "She's breathing. She's conscious. That's more than she would be if I hadn't found her."
"You cauterized her leg with fire." Arion's light flickered slightly, betraying frustration. "She needs proper healing—"
"Proper?" Karse's laugh was sharp. "Like the proper hunt your kind arranged? The proper way that Sarelle woman was going to tear her apart?"
"We're wasting time," Arion said, and there was an edge to his voice now. "Every moment we stand here arguing, more hunters are closing in. Can you not hear them?"
Briar could. Distant but unmistakable, the sound of coordinated movement through the forest. Multiple groups, calling to each other in the musical language of the courts.
She tried to push herself up from where she'd fallen, using a young birch for support. The bark felt too smooth, too cold under her palms. Her leg wouldn't hold weight properly, the cauterized wound pulling with fresh agony, but she managed to get her feet under her.
"You want to help?" Karse was saying. "Leave. Draw them off. Take your companions and make noise elsewhere."
"We're not leaving her with—"
The argument continued, but the words started blurring together. Briar took one step, then another, focusing on the space between them. If she could just get there, make them stop, make them listen—
Her leg buckled. The ground rushed up.
Karse caught her before she hit the leaves, moving without taking his eyes off Arion. One arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her against his too-warm chest, holding her upright when her legs wouldn't.
"You see?" His voice had gone quieter, more dangerous. "She can't travel. Not fast enough to matter."
That's when Halian struck.
Roots erupted from the earth, wrapping around Karse's ankles and calves in a sudden burst of growth. Not gentle vines but thick, woody bonds that locked his legs in place. Karse's attention snapped downward for one crucial second.
Sian's water came from everywhere—moisture in the air, dew from the leaves, all of it converging into a spinning vortex that engulfed them both. The water moved too fast to evaporate, constantly cycling, dousing his flames before they could fully form.
Karse's grip on Briar tightened, a snarl building in his throat, but then—
