I bring my arms up and hold him back. After a second, he pulls back, and Sorel replaces him. His embrace is brief, but fierce. Then Vessara. She holds on longer, her face pressed against my chest, her whole body shaking.
Therin moves forward then. He doesn’t say a word, just reaches out and grips Kaelith’s forearm. Andthat’swhen Kaelith’s composure shatters.
He drags Therin into an embrace that is half hug, half collapse. Therin catches him, holds him, his own eyes turning glassy.
“You massive, stubborn fool.” Therin’s voice is thick. “You’re still alive.”
“So are you.” Kaelith pulls back, gripping Therin’s shoulders. “I thought …wethought we’d lost all of you. Every fae we hear about, every one we find … we hoped we would find one of you.”
Vel steps forward. For a moment, she just looks at them, her jaw tight. Then her gaze finds Vessara. They stare at each other, then Vessara closes the distance. Vel lets herself be pulled in, and when Vessara’s arms wrap around her, she holds on.
Sorel moves to Therin, pressing his forehead to his shoulder. Kaelith keeps one hand on Therin’s arm, and reaches the other toward Vel.
The bond between us all burns bright, renewed, and strengthened by proximity. I can feel their joy, their relief, theirdisbelief. And beneath it, the bone-deep loyalty that nothing can ever erase.
They’re mine. They’ve always been mine. And as I stand there, that ever-present knot in my chest loosens a little more.
Kaelith finally releases Vel and turns back to me. He takes a breath, steadying himself.
“We should have found you. We should have searched every preserve?—”
“You would have gotten yourself collared.” I shake my head. “Or killed. There was nothing for you to follow. The bond was severed. I was … I was hidden even from myself.”
“We should have tried anyway.” Vessara’s voice wobbles. “Three hundred years, Eldráfn. We should havetried.”
“And I would have lost you.” I hold her gaze until she looks down. “You survived. That’s all that matters.”
She swallows hard, but doesn’t argue further.
“Why are you here?” I look toward the village. “In a human settlement?”
The three of them exchange glances, and something passes between them. Some shared understanding that I’m not privy to.
“The humans here are different,” Kaelith says.
Vel snorts. “Differenthow?”
“They know what we are. They’ve been sheltering fae since not long after the Sealing.” He pauses, reading Vel’s expression. “I know how it sounds. But they’ve bled for us. Some have died for us. Their families have kept our secrets for generations.”
Humans bleeding for fae? Humans dying for fae?
“We can explain everything.” Kaelith glances around. “But not here. Not in the open. Will you come?”
I consider his words. The threads that connect me to them are stable now, humming with renewed strength. I can sense no deception in any of them, no hesitation or fear. Just a reliefso profound it bleeds through the bond … and some curiosity. They keep glancing at the six fae behind me, and the human female standing rigid and pale. They have questions, but they’re too disciplined to ask until I’m ready to answer.
“Lead the way.”
Kaelith turns toward the village. Sorel and Vessara fall into step with Therin and Vel, the five of them close enough that their shoulders brush. Behind them, the six fae follow, leading their horses.
And Alleria walks at my side. She hasn’t said a word since I released the summons, but I can feel her mind racing.
The village streets are quiet as we enter, but I catch movement behind windows—faces appearing, then withdrawing. Most are human. Some, though, are not. I get glimpses of pointed ears, skin that gleams faintly in the fading light, eyes that reflect like an animal’s.
Fae. Living free in a human village. Without any glamour. Beside me, Alleria makes a small, strangled sound.
“This isn’t possible,” she breathes. “Humans and fae … they don’t?—”
Kaelith overhears her. “Yes, they do. Here, at least.”
