Gideon’s gaze flicked to him, and for a moment, the old arrogance flashed.
“She shouldn’t,” Gideon said quietly. “Not blindly.”
The answer surprised me more than any grand vow would have.
“Why would we want to bring this danger in?” I glanced at his hand where the stone stayed hidden.
Gideon’s fingers tightened around the black-veined stone. “Because it’s better in your hand than hers.”
I nodded, but not in agreement, just with the way things were going.
Gideon’s gaze stayed on mine, and I noticed something I hadn’t before. There was something on his cheekbone—dirt, maybe, or the faint trace of dried blood. He looked like someone who’d been sleeping in places that weren’t meant for sleep.
“The Priestess isn’t just destabilizing territories,” he said quietly. “She’s mapping responses. She pushes and then watches who moves, who resists, and who offers refuge. Right now, that knowledge is more important to her than most things. She eyes who hoards, who fractures.”
“She’s sorting us like cattle,” I whispered.
“She’s selecting, and she’s moving faster than I anticipated,” Gideon admitted.
I fear she’s already inside your circle.”
My heart slammed.
“What does that mean?”
Gideon didn’t answer right away. He looked at the cottage, at the porch light, at the gargoyles’ silhouette above, at the wolves in formation, the orcs watching beyond.
He returned his gaze to mine.
“Maeve, you don’t have as much time as you think, and the longer I’m here, the higher chance she’ll know what I’m about to do.”
Keegan’s voice snapped. “Then you shouldn’t have come.”
Gideon didn’t flinch.
“I came to warn Maeve,” he said, gaze never leaving me. “Not to feed your comfort, shifter.”
Anger pulsed through me, but before I could speak, Gideon lifted the stone slightly, and my birthmark gave a firm, unmistakable pulse.
Gideon’s eyes narrowed on me.
“You feel it,” he said softly.
“Maeve. We’re done out here.” My dad stepped forward, and I knew he was right.
Every second we stood here, the night learned more about us. The priestess would pick up on why we hesitated and what we valued. But my eyes stayed locked on Gideon’s.
“I need you to tell me one thing,” I said quietly.
Gideon’s gaze met mine. “Name it.”
“Is my mother alive?” The words came out raw, more of a plea than a demand.
For the first time, something in Gideon’s expression faltered. It was brief and just a flicker. It happened so fast that most people wouldn’t notice it.
Then he said, very softly, “Yes.”
Keegan’s hand pressed against my back, steadying, as if he’d felt my knees weaken.
