I meet their gaze without stepping back.
“I’m telling the truth.”
The tension in the square rises dangerously. I see Threxian shift slightly. His presence moves beside me like a storm barely contained beneath calm water.
“Elowen,” he says quietly.
I glance toward him.
“It is time to leave.”
The words carry no hesitation. Behind us the villagers begin advancing slowly into the square.
Fear has hardened into something far more dangerous now. Again. Violence. I look once more at the ruins of Briarthorn.
Then I turn toward the demon who offered to destroy a part of himself just to free me from the bond between us.
“Alright,” I say quietly.
My hand slips into his. And this time, when we walk away from the village, I do not look back.
Threxian does not release my hand as we leave the village behind. His stride remains powerful, yet careful with me in a way that still feels unfamiliar. Through the bond I sense the weight of everything he is holding back. For now, that restraint is the only thing standing between the world and another fire.
24
THREXIAN
The forest closes around us like a living wall the moment we leave the ruined road behind.
Briarthorn disappears slowly through the trees, its charred remains swallowed by distance and morning mist until only the faint scent of smoke lingers in the air behind us. I do not stop walking until the sounds of the village, fearful voices, the clatter of weapons, the restless shifting of survivors, fade entirely into silence.
Only then do I allow myself to slow.
Elowen remains beside me, her hand still clasped firmly in mine as we move through the damp undergrowth toward the darker interior of the forest. The bond between us has changed since the square. It feels quieter now, not the unstable storm it once was but something deeper and more deliberate, as though the connection itself is waiting.
“You’re still scanning the trees,” she says softly after several minutes.
I glance toward her.
“Habit.”
Her mouth curves faintly despite everything that has happened. I didn't know I could be grateful for a half-smile, but I am.
“Expecting an ambush?”
“I always expect an ambush.”
The forest thickens around us until the ground begins to slope upward into a low ridge of stone rising from the earth. At its base a narrow opening breaks the rock face, half-hidden by moss and roots. A cave. Not large, but deep enough to provide shelter.
“This will do,” I say.
Elowen studies the opening.
“You sound like someone who has hidden in caves before.”
“I have hidden in considerably worse places.”
She lets out a tired breath but follows me inside. The interior is cool and dry, the stone walls curving inward to form a natural hollow deep enough to shield us from wind and rain. Sunlight filters faintly through the entrance, illuminating patches of pale moss and smooth rock.
