She could hold onto her anger. Keep him at arm's length. Make him pay for the hunt, for the cruelty, for every moment of terror she'd endured because of his pride.
Or she could acknowledge that they were in this together. That his mistakes and her mistakes had tangled into something neither of them could have predicted. That moving forward meant accepting the complexity of it all—the hurt and the regret, the guilt and the sacrifice, the anger and the... whatever this was between them.
Briar stood, her legs unsteady. Karse lifted his head slightly, watching, but said nothing.
She crossed to where Eliam stood and took his hand.
He went still, looked down at their joined fingers.
"I freed Malus," she said. "You threw me to the hunt. We both—" She stopped, searching for the right words. "We both made choices that led here."
He shifted his eyes and sighed. "That doesn't make what I did—"
"No. It doesn't." She squeezed his hand. "It doesn’t mean that I’m not still angry and hurt. But staying angry won't fix any of this."
He didn't respond, but his hand stayed in hers.
"The rest… well… we can figure it out after," she said. "When this is over."
His eyes lifted again and she could tell he was searching her face, looking for something—sincerity, maybe, or a lie he expected to find. Whatever he saw there made something in his expression crack.
He kissed her.
Not like before, not desperate or demanding. This was careful, almost hesitant, as if asking permission with every movement. His hand came up to cup her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek, and she felt him trembling slightly.
The warmth, for once, was still, as though it too was waiting to see what she would do next. She kissed him back, answering the question he hadn't asked aloud.
When they broke apart, his forehead rested against hers for just a moment. "I'm sorry."
Briar nodded, but before she could say more, Thaine's voice rose from the shadows. "Path ahead is clear. We should move."
Eliam stepped back, his hand sliding from her face. But his eyes held hers for a breath longer, and she saw something in his expression she'd never seen before—something vulnerable and raw.
When he turned, Briar followed, the purple flowers already beginning to fade behind them.
The urgency returned as they drew closer to the castle, but now it felt different—heavier, more ominous. The forest continued its reluctant obedience, paths opening just wide enough for them to pass before closing again like wounds trying to heal. Eliam didn't struggle quite as much now, or perhaps he was simply hiding it better, his expression locked into that cold mask she recognized from court.
They moved faster, harder, the night pressing in around them. No one spoke. The only sounds were their footsteps on packed earth and the whisper of wind through branches that watched them with what felt like suspicion.
The warmth in Briar's chest began to pull in two directions at once—toward Eliam as always, but also recoiling from something ahead. Something wrong. The sensation grew stronger with each step, an uncomfortable stretching that made her press her hand against her sternum.
"Do you feel that?" she asked quietly.
Eliam's jaw tightened. "Yes."
Karse moved closer, flames dancing between his fingers. "I don't like this."
"Neither do I," Thaine said from behind them, his hand on his blade.
When they reached the outer boundaries of the castle grounds, everything felt off. The guards at the gate stood at perfect attention, exactly where they should be, but their eyes slid past Eliam without proper acknowledgment. Not disrespect exactly—more like uncertainty, as if they weren't quite sure who he was anymore.
"Strange night, my lord," one offered, and there was something careful in his tone, something that made the hair on Briar's neck stand up.
The courtyard was eerily normal. Servants crossed with purpose, guards walked their routes, but everything felt rehearsed. Choreographed. Like players maintaining their roles while waiting for a cue that hadn't come yet.
"Something's very wrong," Karse muttered.
The warmth in Briar's chest grew more agitated, the pulling sensation becoming almost painful. She stumbled slightly, and Eliam's hand immediately steadied her elbow.
