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Spiked barricades were planted at various points, particularly in narrow passages between trees. Hidden nets would ensnare the enemy, and Herne’s people had even found a way to rig certain trees to fall when triggered.

Grim satisfaction flooded me when Tibris and Herne pointed out each trap. Each soldier who couldn’t make it to the hybrids was a soldier who couldn’t kill one of our people.

“Give us an update,” Demos said.

Tibris glanced over his shoulder at him. “In good weather in daylight, it takes the average hybrid six to eight hours to traverse the pass. Obviously, it can take much longer if they’re traveling with children. The moment we received Prisca’s message, we sent as many hybrids as possible, but there are still hundreds of people currently moving through the mountains.

“We’ve sent messages to all our contacts, telling any hybrids who were planning to travel here to stay where they are. But those who were already traveling are still arriving. We just had a group show up this morning. This is the camp entrance,” Tibris announced as we approached a small incline. I ducked my head, avoiding a low branch, and swept my gaze over the camp.

Nestled against the Minaret Mountains, this place had always been a temporary refuge. Now, it was evident many more hybrids had been here recently—and that many of those hybrids had fled. The tents were a patchwork of canvas and cloth, clustered together in groups. Most ofthose tents were empty, surrounded by an array of clothes, cooking supplies, and children’s toys––left where they’d been dropped moments before the hybrids had taken the Asric Pass.

The air was heavy with the scent of pine and earth, which mingled with the smoky whispers of campfires. Several small streams surrounded the clearing, the bubbling melody a soothing counterpoint to the tension that hung in the air.

The hybrids who remained gave us wobbly smiles as we walked through the camp. The word had likely spread, and they knew what was coming.

They’d also been cooking for the soldiers while they waited. And standing by a huge black pot was Margie— the woman who had become almost like a mother to Vicer. Prisca would be relieved to know she was well.

As we watched, Margie ordered the soldiers into lines for dinner—a simple affair of hard bread, cold meat, and a stew that looked like it was more water than flavor. Still, the soldiers gratefully took their rations, nodding their thanks to the other hybrids who had prepared the meal for them.

Demos stood at the edge of the camp, watching as the soldiers did their best to prepare for the battle ahead without terrifying the women and children, the sick and the elderly. His expression was thoughtful, his mind clearly on strategy once more.

A group of children approached, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and awe. They moved with the carefree energy of the young, a stark contrast to the somber preparations happening around us.

“You’re the prince,” a little girl said, no more than seven winters. Her mop of curly hair framed her face like a lion’s mane, her stance bold, chin lifted.

Behind her, a slightly older boy fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, his gaze darting between Demos and the ground.

Demos glanced over his shoulder, as if looking for someone else. Then he pointed at his chest. “Who, me?”

“Yes, you!” This girl was younger than the first, and she clutched a threadbare doll as she peered out from behind the bold girl’s shoulder. Beside her, twin boys gripped each other’s hands tightly, their excitement palpable as they watched wide-eyed.

“Are you sure?” Demos asked.

“Yes! My mama said.”

“Well, in that case, I suppose I must be.”

A feminine voice began calling out, and the children scampered away. Demos glanced at me. “Will you still want me when I’m a prince, Sin?”

He asked it casually, but I saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. Amusement warred with a strange kind of tenderness inside me. It was a feeling I’d never felt before.

“You’ve always been a prince. Besides, my best friend became a queen and mated theBloodthirstyPrince. That’s far more impressive.”

He laughed. “You better not let Prisca hear you call him that.”

I knew what he was doing. Focusing on a future we might get to have. It helped.

Demos turned, surveying the camp once more. “We need to meet with the others.”

I nodded, shifting back to reality as I followed him to where Tibris had set up his healer’s tent.

Telean, Stillcrest, and Vicer were already waiting. All three of them looked as exhausted as I felt.

Herne and Tibris stepped into the tent, and Tibris gestured for Telean to sit on the bed. She must have been beyond tired because she actually took him up on the offer. I sat on the ground, and the others joined me.

“Regner’s ships have been sighted moving south. He’s not hiding them anymore. Likely, he’s conserving magic. The sea serpents will prevent the ships from making it across the Sleeping Sea until Rothnic takes down our ward—which will signal to the serpents that they shouldn’t attack. When the ward falls, Regner will attack from the north and east, blocking off the chance for our people to get to the tunnel.”

A sick panic took up residence in my chest. My throat constricted, and I forced my expression to stay neutral, breathing through the worst of it.