“I’ll stay elsewhere,” I reply quickly, before I can think too much about it.
“Okay, then.” Disappointment flickers across his face, but he smooths it away with a short nod. “You can sleep here with Ezzytonight, but we need to keep this tent clear, so tomorrow Merrin can find you somewhere more permanent.” He lifts the flap for me to enter. “I put something in your pack, by the way. A way to reach me if you want or need.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, taking the canvas from his hand. A flash of green shoots past us as Ahria darts inside the tent, and without another word, I follow her in.
I want to slam it in his face—hard enough to make a point—but the canvas is too light, too forgiving and it falls shut with a dull, unsatisfying scrape. So instead I exhale with a loud, exaggerated huff and hope he gets the message.
For a moment I stay standing there, facing the closed flap, my arms folded across my chest and my brows drawn in. Waiting. Almost hoping he’ll follow me in. To argue, to say something, anything to give me a reason to fight back so I can bleed out some of the pressure currently clawing up my throat.
Anger. Frustration. Grief.
I can’t tell where one ends and the next begins.
Then I hear his boots shift outside, a subtle scuff against the dry dirt. Another follows, quieter this time, then another, moving farther away until the sound fades completely and all that's left is the steady beat of Ahria’s wings at my side.
Finally, once my pulse has settled, I draw in a long breath and turn, blinking as my vision adjusts to the low, flickering light.
The tent is small, with only two narrow beds separated by a single wooden chair.
One bed is untouched, in the other?—
Ezzy.
Her bright blonde hair catches in the dim candlelight.
My heart stutters when I see her chest rise and fall beneath the blankets.
She’s alive.
Oh, thank god, she’s alive.
Tension gathers behind my eyes at the sight of her, and a tear slips free before I can stop it, but I swipe it away fast before Ahria can see.
I’ve already fallen apart too much tonight, and if there’s even a chance she’ll choose to bond with me, then I can’t let her see me as weak.
I need to be strong. In control.
Like my mum.
Clamping the feelings down before more can surface, I cross the space, gently lower myself onto the empty bed opposite Ezzy with a soft creak, and place Talen's jacket on the chair beside me. Ahria flutters over a second later, lands right in the middle of it, then burrows into the worn leather and curls up with a satisfied huff like she belongs there. Once she settles, I shrug off my pack and start digging through it.
I put aside the notebook and the strange golden contraption Talen left inside. It looks like a folded-up ornate candle holder, and reach deeper for what I'm really after.
Rowan's letter to Ezzy and the duck.
As my fingers curl around them, the fragile hold I have on myself slips. For one terrible second, I’m back there again, but I swallow hard and lift them free.
“Here.” My voice cracks as I lean across, placing them beside Ezzy on her bed. “Now Rowan and Finn are both with you.”
Brushing a strand of hair from her face, I tuck it behind her ear, then let my hand settle against her shoulder.
“I don’t know who you’ll be when you wake, hell, I don't even know who I am right now. But I do knowthis.” Inhaling deep, I force my voice steady. “I’m not leaving you. I left Bren. I lost Ashvale, Finn. Rowan.” My throat tightens on his name. “Rowan’s gone, he’s gone because of me, and all he wanted to dowas keep you safe. Rowan loved you. And I loved him, he was my friend. I refuse to let any of that be meaningless.”
The words settle in the space between us—no echo, no answer. Just the slow, steady rise and fall of her breath beneath my hand, until a low, rolling groan breaks the quiet.
Glancing down at the chair beside us, I catch Ahria stretching into the tail end of a yawn, wings shifting as she nestles deeper into Talen’s jacket. Her yawn catches, and I follow, the tension in my jaw loosening just enough to let the fatigue through.
God, with all the chaos of the evening I didn’t realise how fucking tired I am.
