Of course he did.
“Well,” I say, folding my arms tightly, “if Sebastian didn’t say it, and Liam or Theo didn’t say it, then whoever ‘he’ is, he’s not a friend of mine.”
“He was very tall,” she adds, lifting her hand higher until she mimics Ares’s height, “and had this… sharp look about him. And a scar here-” she brushes her cheek.“very striking, actually.”
Sebastian’s inhale is subtle but sharp, like something slicing through the air.
“If that bastard shows up again-” he mutters.
“Killing him is still on the table,” I say quietly.
Sebastian’s expression softens, a reluctant, fleeting smile tugging at his mouth.
Poppy clears her throat, clearly unsure why the air feelssuddenly heavy between us. “So… will you help me? Both of you? And Liam, if he’s willing? The guardians said the forest only becomes dangerous if people wander without purpose. I thought… with everything going on… maybe you’d want to look.”
The sincerity in her voice is disarming. She believes I can help. That I can protect something instead of destroy it. That I can stand between danger and someone who deserves better.
“We’ll go,” I say at last.
Relief spreads across her face like sunlight breaking free of clouds. “Thank you. Truly.”
But while she looks at me with gratitude, Sebastian watches me with something far more complicated, wariness, protectiveness, suspicion, and under it all, an unspoken fear he refuses to name.
Because we both know this wasn’t Poppy’s idea.
Ares nudged her toward me. Toward the forest.
Toward something waiting beneath the trees that was never meant for her at all.
“I will-”
The promise forms too quickly, slipping out on instinct rather than certainty. Sebastian cuts me a sharp sideways glance, the kind that slices straight through impulse and demands I reconsider every reckless tendency I’ve ever had. His eyes hold mine for a beat, a quiet question beneath the sternness.
“We will meet you there in one hour,” I correct, feeling the tension in him soften by a margin. If he’s learned anything about me, it’s that I don’t bend for many people. But I will bend for him. For Liam. Sometimes even for myself.
Poppy beams, radiant in a way that only makes me ache a little. She believes this will be simple, just a few studentschecking on poachers in a forest that has never been simple for anyone, least of all people with lineage like mine. She doesn't see the shadows threading themselves between my ribs, or the deep breath I take to keep them from spilling outward.
“I’ll bring Liam as well,” I add, though my tone dips as I continue, “Don’t expect Ares to show up. He’s-”
“Unpredictable,” Sebastian finishes for me, the word sour on his tongue. His expression collapses into a scowl so familiar it nearly pulls a smile out of me. “Two days without him pestering you must be his limit before he crawls out of whatever hole he’s rotting in and dumps fresh chaos on all of us.”
His arms fold across his chest, knuckles whitening from how tightly he grips himself, as if the mere mention of Ares is enough to make his balance waver. I know the feeling. Ares unsettles things in me I’d rather keep buried. He unsettles something in Sebastian too, though it tastes more like rage in him and something far more dangerous in me.
Poppy bounces on the balls of her feet, oblivious to the thorned silence stretching around us. “So you’re all on board, then? Good. I can leave a map, coordinates to where the poachers have been nesting on Harper’s bed after class.” She stops long enough to flash an earnest, hopeful smile that could probably talk a professor into committing treason. “See you both soon.”
She scurries away before either of us can say anything more, her braid swinging like a pendulum behind her.
The hallway quiets, leaving a faint echo of her footsteps and a tension between Sebastian and me that coils tighter with every breath. His shoulders relax only when she’s fully gone, and then, so suddenly it steals the air from me, his warmth is pressed against my back.
Strong arms slide around my waist, cinching me gently tohim. His fingers brush slow, lazy paths across my stomach, warm strokes that feel like they’re tracing the outline of a secret only he knows how to read.
“I want to be angry with her,” he murmurs, his breath a soft heat against the side of my face. His chin grazes my cheek as he leans in, his voice dipping lower. “For dragging Ares even deeper into your orbit. For giving him any excuse to show up again.”
His hand splay wider across my stomach, thumb drawing a quiet circle that’s entirely too distracting for a conversation involving danger and poaching and Shadeborne threats.
“But gods…” A huffed laugh ghosts over my skin. “There’s something about the Sylara students. They soften you without even trying. Makes it damn near impossible to stay mad.”
His smile touches me before I see it, warm and familiar.
