Wait. That tail wasn’t supposed to exist. He twisted just enough to look behind him and counted again. A sixth tail shimmered faintly in the firelight, the newest fur still silver-white at the tips, like moonlit frost.
Mingxi stared at it, expression blank. Then, he said, “What?”
Across the fire, Caelan choked. “I wasn’t going to say anything,” he said, barely containing a laugh. “But yes. That’s new.”
Mingxi’s ears flattened. “It shouldn’t be there.”
Caelan shrugged. “Well, it is.”
Mingxi stared at the traitorous floof like it had personally betrayed him.
Poppy mumbled sleepily, eyes still closed. “M’fluffier… why’re you… softer?”
Mingxi shut his eyes and prayed to every ancestral spirit he had ever ignored.
The fire had burned down to a steady glow by the time Poppy stirred again. It began with a faint tightening of her fingers around Mingxi’s sleeve—tiny, instinctive. Then her breath hitched, throat working as if she were trying to swallow away some heavy dream.
Mingxi leaned over her, brushing a loose strand of hair from her cheek. “Yueguang,” he whispered. “Come back to me.”
Her brow furrowed, and then her eyes opened. Slowly. Dazed. But open. The forest reflected in her pupils before her gaze finally settled on the warm line of Mingxi’s throat, then the edge of his jaw, and then his eyes—dark, tired, and unbearably relieved.
She blinked. Once. Twice. “Mingxi?” Her voice was papery-soft.
He exhaled the tension easing from him. “Yes,” he murmured. “I’m here.”
He pulled her closer without thinking, the wrap of his tails tightening instinctively around her body. Her eyes dropped to the silvery cocoon around her, and she frowned faintly.
“That’s a lot of tail,” she whispered.
Mingxi went absolutely still.
Caelan, from across the fire, choked on a laugh and attempted to turn it into a cough. It didn’t work.
Poppy blinked again, still sleepy, still obviously confused. “I thought you had…” She squinted. “Five?”
Mingxi’s voice was tight. “I… did.”
Poppy lifted one hand with all the effort of someone lifting a boulder and let her fingers sink into the soft, warm fur of the new tail. The newest one. The one that hadn’t existed the last time she saw him conscious.
“Oh,” she breathed, her voice barely audible. “It’s… softer.”
Mingxi stared at her, a mixture of awe and mortification flickering across his features.
Caelan muttered under his breath, “That’s one word for it.”
Poppy’s drowsy smile faded as a hoarse whisper drifted across the fire.
“Poppy?” Lysandra said.
She was half sitting, braced against Caelan’s arm, her tangled hair falling over her shoulders. Her face was pale, the scars faint but visible, and her eyes were clear. Not all the way, but clearer than they had been since the ritual.
Caelan shifted behind her, lifting her into a half-sitting position so she wouldn’t collapse forward. She leaned heavily against him, her head resting briefly against his shoulder, breath trembling with exhaustion.
Her gaze lifted and immediately found Poppy.
Poppy lay nestled against Mingxi’s chest, and he kept his arm steady around her ribs, tails wrapped around her like a protective, furred cocoon. Her eyes were closed, breath shallow but alive.
A soft, relieved sound escaped Lysandra’s throat. “You’re alive,” she whispered. The words cracked. “I saw so many endings where you weren’t.”
