"We're not too late." His voice was certain, solid. "We would know. The corruption would be spreading faster, consuming everything. The seal still holds."
"For now."
"For now," he agreed, and she appreciated that he didn't lie to her. Didn't promise safety he couldn't guarantee.
She pressed closer, feeling his heartbeat steady beneath her ear. The warmth in her chest pulsed, reaching for him, and for once she didn't fight it. Didn't question whether this need for comfort was hers or the magic's. She was scared and he was here and that was enough.
"I'm terrified," she whispered.
His hand stilled in her hair for a moment, then resumed its gentle movement. "Good. Fear keeps you careful. Keeps you alive."
"Is that supposed to be comforting?"
"No." His lips pressed against the top of her head. "But it's true."
She felt him shift, pulling her even closer until there was no space between them. One of his legs hooked over hers, anchoring her against him.
"Sleep," he said quietly. "I'll keep watch."
"You need rest too."
"I'll rest when you do." His hand moved from her hair to her back, tracing slow circles that gradually began to ease the tension from her muscles. "Right now you need this more."
She wanted to argue, to point out that he couldn't stay awake all night just because she was scared. But the steady rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his body, the solid presence of him was already pulling her toward sleep despite her fear.
"Eliam?" she said, her voice already drowsy.
"Mm?"
She almost said it. Almost let the words slip out that had been sitting in her chest since the night she'd confessed in his bed. But doubt crept back in, that persistent question of what was real and what was magic, and the words stuck in her throat.
"Thank you," she said instead.
His arms tightened fractionally around her. "Sleep, Briar."
She closed her eyes, letting his presence chase away the images of pale skin and crimson eyes and raven feathers. Let herself trust, just for tonight, that this feeling of safety was real even if she didn't know what else was.
The warmth settled between them, content, and she felt him relax slightly as she finally began to drift off.
Just before sleep took her, she felt his lips against her hair again, felt him whisper something too quiet for her to hear. But the tone carried through—possessive and protective and something softer underneath that she was too tired to analyze.
Tomorrow she could go back to questioning everything. Tonight, she just let herself be held.
Chapter twenty-nine
The second day bled into the third with little to mark the difference. More trees, more narrow paths, more endless riding that left everyone sore and irritable. The forest had grown denser, darker, the canopy so thick that even midday felt like twilight.
Briar noticed the shift in the group's dynamics around midday on the third day. Small things at first—Sian snapping at Halian when he asked about the water supply, Thaine's responses to questions growing shorter and more clipped.
Then Arion questioned Karse about the route.
"Are you certain this is the right direction?" The Star Prince's tone was carefully neutral, but the implication was clear. "We've been traveling for days."
Karse, who'd been ranging ahead as usual, stopped and turned. His golden eyes had gone flat. "Are you questioning whether I know my own lands?"
"I'm questioning whether you remember them," Eliam interjected, his voice cold. "It's been centuries since your people abandoned these territories. Landmarks change."
"Landmarks don't forget." Karse's claws had extended slightly. "The trees remember. The stones remember. I remember."
