The furs smell like Kieran. Smoke and pine and something old that I’ve stopped trying to put words to. I press my face intothem like an idiot, and nobody’s here to see it, so I let myself have this one stupid moment.
Three days. Give or take.
Three days of actual sleep. My body feels strange. Lighter. Like something that was wound too tight finally snapped loose.
Mouse lifts his head. Stares at me with those ancient eyes that have seen too much and judge accordingly.
Ready?
“Don’t rush me,” I mutter. “I just woke up.”
His tail flicks. Judgment.
“Fine.” I sit up. My spine cracks in three places. Rude. “I’m ready.”
I find them on the other side of the cavern doing a terrible job of pretending they weren’t waiting.
Kieran’s sharpening a blade he doesn’t need. Malrik and Aspen are arguing over a supply list that has maybe three items on it — none of which they agree on. Finn’s eating something that’s going to make him sick. Darian’s holding a map upside down. Torric’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, watching the doorway like—
Like he was waiting for me.
They all look up.
The bond hums. Warm. Steady. Annoying. Like someone stuffing comfort into my chest when I’m not ready for it.
Kieran stands. “You slept.”
“Apparently.” I stretch. Things pop. “How long was I out?”
“Three days,” Finn says around a mouthful of whatever he’s destroying. “We rounded up. You looked peaceful and none of us wanted to be the asshole who ruined it.”
Malrik elbows him.
“What? It’s true.”
I laugh. It comes out rusty. Weird. Like my throat forgot how.
Then I take a breath. My chest tightens. My throat follows.
Complicated.
“It’s time to go.”
Silence.
Not the bad kind. Not theKaia’s about to do something stupidkind. Just… agreement. Like they were waiting for me to say it first.
Kieran nods. “Where?”
The question hits different now. Notwhere’s the threatorwhat’s hunting us. Just… where do I want to be?
My first real choice.
“The southern coast. The beach with the white sand and purple starfish that come near shore.” I look at Kieran. “Where my mother used to take me.”
Something shifts in his face. Soft. Aching. Old.
“I want to see it,” I say. “I want to make new memories there. With—” I gesture vaguely at all of them. “You know. Everyone.”
