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“Please, eat something,” someone murmured, grabbing my arm to keep me steady.

“I’m fine.” The other hybrids needed the food. And I felt too sick to eat. The woman pulled me until I was facing her. Her eyes seemed almost crazed, her face tight with desperation. “We need you. The remainder of these children need you.” She shoved a few pieces of dried meat into my hand, and I didn’t argue, simply lifted one to my mouth and began chewing.

I was so, so tired.

Part of me wished I’d killed Stillcrestback at the camp. Likely, she’d been cut down shortly after we escaped. But if she was alive…she should have to live with what she had done.

And still, the guilt clawed at me. I should have insisted these people leave the moment I arrived at that camp. I should have made Vicer use his power. I should have—

“She’s not going to leave him,” the woman next to me said, nodding to Whirna’s prone form. “You will need to do something about that.”

I looked at her. She looked expectantly back at me.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Glenda.”

Her eyes were a blue so light, they reminded me of the fae king’s. But unlike Conreth’s icy gaze, hers was warm, despite our increasingly dire situation. Deep laugh lines had been carved around those eyes. This was a woman who enjoyed her life.

“Do you have children, Glenda?”

She nodded toward twin boys of around eight winters.

“Then you can imagine her pain much better than I can.”

“Ah, but she doesn’t need my empathy. She will have that when we find safety. Right now, she needs strength. Conviction. Force.”

“You want me to bully a pregnant woman who has just lost her son?”

She gave me a steady look. “We took too much time here. We are not out of danger. You know this.”

And Whirna would need someone like Glenda forsympathy. For support. Glenda would be the one to make sure Whirna got up each morning and put one foot in front of the other. I didn’t want Whirna to remember this woman berating her next to her son’s grave. Not while she was mourning him in the weeks and months that followed.

If we lived that long.

Whirna had stopped crying. Now, she lay next to the grave, her eyes blank as she stared into space.

I crouched next to her. “I can’t even imagine the pain you’re feeling right now,” I murmured. “It’s inconceivable. But we need to keep going.”

“Just leave me.”

I reached out and touched the swell of her stomach. “You know I can’t do that.”

Her gaze dropped to my hand. When her eyes met mine, some of the blankness had slipped away, replaced by pure agony. “I promised him I would keep him safe. It was my job to keep him safe.”

I had nothing for her except the thought of vengeance. “We’re going to make them regret this,” I swore to her. “We’re going to kill Regner and wipe out his iron guards.”

A tiny spark flickered in her eyes. Something nudged at my hand, and I yanked that hand away, gaping down at her stomach. There had been so muchforcebehind something so tiny. The baby seemed to do what my words couldn’t, and Whirna allowed me to help her to her feet.

“You will return to this place one day,” I promised. “You’ll visit your son.”

She didn’t seem to have the strength to reply, but as I tightened my hold on her arm, she took a few steps.

It was enough.

And so, we continued. Until screams sounded in the distance, piercing the stillness of the forest around us. My heart leaped, my pulse pounding in my ears.

Everyone froze.