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In the distance, Galon raised his hand in greeting. Safe. I’d known it, but it was a relief to see it with my own eyes.

Now, we would prepare to deal with the consequences of disobeying my brother.

* * *

I tried to let Asinia go three times, pulling her close again each time. Tears streaked her face, but eventually, tears turned to relieved, slightly hysterical laughter.

“You made it,” she said when we finally separated.

I nodded at Lorian, still waiting on his horse behind us. He’d snagged the reins of my own horse, and he was watching both of us with a faint smile on his face.

Some of the color left Asinia’s face. I sighed, but I could understand why she was afraid. The last time she’d seen him, Lorian had been spearing the king’s guards with his lightning—his entire body aglow with the power he’d finally had returned to him.

“Are you…well?” Asinia asked me, and I bit my lip, conscious of Lorian’s sensitive hearing.

“I’m fine, I promise. We have a lot to talk about.”

Asinia smiled at something behind me, and I whirled as Tibris pulled me into a hug. We clutched each other for a long, long time, holding tight.

I never wanted to be separated from him like this again.

“I heard what happened,” I said when Tibris finally released me, his dark eyes glinting. “About the attack.”

Something shifted in his face. “We’re all right, Pris. The mercenaries…thefae”—he corrected himself—“have been good to us. Rythos saved lives that day.”

I nodded, and then Demos was there. Relief spread wings inside me as my gaze dropped to his chest. The last time I’d seen him, he’d been barely healed.

Demos threw an arm around me. “None of that,” he growled, dragging me close.

My throat burned. I hadn’t realized just how badly I’d needed to see them all safe until just this moment. “You’re—”

“I’m fine,” he said, and I pushed back out of his arms just enough to sweep my gaze over both him and Tibris.

Tibris looked tired, his dark eyes hooded. He’d lost some weight—likely from the travel. He also needed a shave.

Demos looked almost too alert by comparison, and since I’d seen him last, he’d packed on muscle. Freedom was doing wonders for him. But he had a hard glint in his eye when he flicked a glance at Lorian behind me.

Asinia reached out and squeezed my hand. “I kept them in line for you.”

I laughed, the sound more of a choked sob. Tibris ruffled my hair. “We missed you too, Pris.”

Demos grinned at me, threw his arm back around my shoulders and steered me toward the camp. I glanced back at Lorian, who nodded at me, his gaze returning to Galon—currently strolling toward us.

It was the first time I’d been parted from Lorian for weeks. As strange as it felt, it was a good thing. Truly.

“Now, there are a few things you should know about this camp,” Demos said.

“She doesn’t need a tour.” Asinia rolled her eyes next to me. Tibris looked like he was barely suppressing a smile.

“Of course she does, Sin.”

She let out a low hiss.

Demos’s grin widened, and he steered me to the right. “As you can see, that’s the training arena,” he said. “Unsurprisingly, the prisoners who chose to come with us are in pretty bad shape. We’re feeding them and they’re slowly building up some stamina, but it’s going to take a while.”

“You know who’s not in bad shape?” Asinia muttered darkly. “Demos.”

“So I’ve noticed,” I said. The arm he’d slung around my shoulders was heavy with muscle. It seemed as if he’d been away from that dungeon for a year rather than a few weeks.