“Depends on who you ask.”
“It doesn’t,” I reply. “This territory is claimed.”
“By you,” he says.
“Yes.”
His smile widens just a fraction.
“That’s the problem.”
My jaw tightens. Behind him, the other two shift again—subtle, but enough that I track it. They’re not going to attack. Not here. Not now. This isn’t about winning a fight. It’s about sending a message. Same as Damon. Same as the markers in the forest. Same as the watchers in town.
“You don’t get to hold this forever,” the man continues. “Territory changes hands.”
“Not this one,” I say.
“We’ll see.”
There it is again. That same confidence. That same certainty. Like they already know how this ends.
“Tell Damon if he wants this town,” I say, my voice dropping, “he can come take it himself.”
The man’s eyes gleam.
“Oh, he will,” he says.
A beat of silence. Then?—
“He’s just giving you time to understand what you’re up against.”
My tiger snarls.
We know exactly what we’re up against.
Do we? Because everything I’ve seen?—
Everything I’ve felt?—
Says this isn’t just another rogue group looking for easy territory. This is organized. Strategic. Relentless.
“Time’s up,” I say.
The man studies me. Then?—
He steps back. Not retreating. Not afraid. Just… done.
“For you,” he says.
And then they’re gone. Slipping back into the trees like they were never there. I don’t follow. Not because I don’t want to. Because I know better. This isn’t a fight I win by chasing. This is a war I win by preparing.
By the time I get back to town, the weight of it has settled in fully. There’s no more ambiguity. No more waiting to see what happens. It’s happening. Now. The council hall fills faster than it did yesterday. Word spreads quickly here. Faster when there’s fear attached to it.
Magnus is already at the head of the table when I walk in, his expression carved from stone.
“Well?” he asks.
“They’re inside town,” I say without preamble. “Confirmed.”
