Back then, I had seen only eleven springs, yet I was already caged like an animal in the dungeons beneath the castle at Ceilte. I remember the echo of footsteps and hushed whispers—nothing like the rough voices of the soldiers who guarded me. Then, a High Fae fledgling appeared, peering at me with wide blue eyes and dangerous curiosity.
She was nothing like what she is now. Small—though tall for one so young—with pale hair and bright eyes filled with an innocence I had already lost. She spoke in the Common Tongue, which I didn’t yet understand, and tossed me a ring before leaving.
That gift, in the end, made my escape possible.
She was the first proof I had that something beautiful could exist within the walls of Ceilte, and the reason why, even now, I couldn’t bring myself to hate her as I should.
Fiona had no idea. It was clear she didn’t remember me, and I couldn’t blame her. She might have helped me escape that nightmare alive, but to her, I had been no more than a grain of sand lost in the vastness of her life.
That was why, when I found her collapsed in the forest, a nuk’hir looming over her, poised to devour her alive, I didn’t hesitate. I knew exactly who she was the moment I caught the scent of spring flowers drifting from her skin—the very same scent she carried in the dungeons, forever etched into my memory.
Saving her was a way to repay the life debt I owed her. It had nothing to do with the chaos she stirred within me. My stomach churned whenever she drew near; my heart threatened to shatter my ribs when she smiled. When I touched her during our training, the contact burned in a way I had never known, like a fever consuming me from the inside out.
It all felt too strange—so strange that, at times, I wondered if she had poisoned me or used some Fae magic to lead me astray.
"And what happened after?" she asked her brother, eager for news of the people she had left behind.
“Pure chaos. Lord Fenric demanded you be hunted down, accusing you of treason for fleeing without facing a proper trial. Alasdair was furious, but several lords had already aligned themselves with Fenric."
"That old fox!" Fiona snarled. Her fangs glinted in the cabin’s dim light, stirring heat in my veins that I forced myself to ignore. "He has always plotted against Father. And after Alasdairrefused to give my hand to his horrible son, he took it as a personal insult."
"Fi, it's far worse than it seems."
Leone explained how Lord Fenric had attempted a coup d'état, seeking to seize the throne of Ceilte for himself. The first sparks of civil war had already been lit, splitting the kingdom in two—those who agreed with Fenric and those who remained by Alasdair’s side.
"But this couldn't have happened out of thin air! How did Father not realize Fenric was a turncoat?"
"He already knew, Fi," Leone said, dragging his hands through his short hair—the same shade Fiona’s had once been before she became an orc. Now hers were darker, like wet sand. "There has always been dissent against our family. But in recent years, under Alasdair’s pacifist policies, it’s only grown worse.”
That much was true. Over the past decade, the fae had attacked us far less frequently. Still, from time to time, they would appear to remind us not to push deeper into Marukoksha—even though the forest was our ancestral land.
In the old days, before the courts began tearing each other apart for power and territory, the orcs of all clans lived throughout Marukoksha and cared for the great forest. Everything was ours, not just a sliver hidden in the heart of the woods.
Then, a High Fae from the Spring Court decided he wanted a piece of our land. He convinced the Autumn and Winter Courts that it would be wise—not only to keep the orcs contained but to preserve a so-called neutral middle ground.
The courts agreed. Together, they seized the forest, slaughtered many of our kind, and reduced our home to ruins.
That was how they built Ceilte. Since then, every lord had been tasked with holding that territory and driving Oksha farther back—just as had been done to the other clans, now forced to hide at the base of the mountains, sharing space with beasts and battling their own hunger.
Yet Oksha remained unyielding. We would not flee. We would fight for our home, even if it cost us our lives.
I watched the two of them as they spoke, their voices quick with excitement as they planned how to help their father. The closeness between them left a bitter taste in my mouth. I couldn't bear the thought of Fiona forgetting me—foolish as that thought was.
I stepped away from my spot, prepared to leave the hut. I needed to speak with Kroshak about the bargain I had struck with Fiona and the brewing war in Ceilte. We had to prepare for a possible strike now that we had dismantled the Autumn Court's forces. That should have been my focus—not the female whose blue eyes haunted both my dreams and my nightmares.
"Malek, where are you going?" Fiona’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.
“It’s none of your business.”
My voice came out harsher than intended, and Fiona stiffened, hurt flashing briefly across her face before she could hide it.
"Hey, don't speak to her like that!" The kir’shakur—despite looking like a stiff breeze could knock him over—forced himself upright and stepped in front of his sister.
Seeing Fiona step back behind him only irritated me further. Where was the female who always had something tosay? Her brother’s presence had been enough to turn her back into a sheltered princess.
So I didn’t mince words.
Not taking my eyes off her, I said, “You don’t need me. You already got what you wanted—for me to hide you and strike a bargain to protect you. That was my mistake. Still, I’ll keep my word. Unlike certain people, I don’t break it.”
