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He smiles, but it doesn’t quite touch his eyes, and my heart breaks a little more.

I offer him a faint smile in return. “Especially that,” I agree.

CHAPTER 22

REN

We’re almost to the river, and I’m exhausted. Not because the journey has been physically demanding, but because I’m devastated beyond words. To make matters worse, my Fox has been snarling and thrashing beneath the surface, wounded, and confused, refusing to accept that she is not ours. Not truly.

And because I’m in my Fox form as we travel, it is even harder to reason with him. It’s taking every bit of my strength to force him into submission, while he howls in agony, demanding that we claim her.

Rapunzel shifts on my back, her fingers clutching my fur. The small, unconscious gesture tightens the ache inside me.

She is my fated one. Even if she were not, I would still desire her as mine. She is kind, intelligent, brave, and beautiful. All the things I could possibly want in a partner. Even if she chooses Theron, my heart will remain hers, for my Fox will accept no other as his mate.

My troubled thoughts are interrupted when Finik scrambles atop my head and settles between my ears, chittering as if I'm his personal steed.

Rapunzel laughs. “Finik seems to have found a new perch.”

“He seems to have forgotten I'm a fearsome predator, not a pony,”I tease.

She laughs again, and it’s such a rich and beautiful sound, easing some of the pain in my chest.

I flick my ears forward, detecting the sound of rushing water up ahead.“We’re nearly there.”

When we reach the river, worry prickles my skin. It’s wider than it was when I passed through here a little over a week ago. Heavy rains in the north must have made the water level rise.

The turbulent water churns dangerously. White-crested waves crash against several partially submerged boulders, scattered across the riverbed.

If I try to cross with Rapunzel on my back, she could easily be swept away.

“The current is too strong. We need to find another way across.”

Her grip tightens. “All right.”

Trotting along the riverbank, I move further downstream. In the distance, I spot a wooden bridge. It’s narrow—barely wide enough for my Fox form—but it appears sturdy.

With Rapunzel and Finik still on my back, I carefully make my way across. The wood groans beneath us, but holds steady. We’re at the halfway point when a sharp scent drifts toward me, on the wind.

I still. My ears prick forward, body tense, as I scan the opposite shore.

Someone is here. I’m sure of it. But whoever it is, they are hiding.

“Rapunzel,”I project.“I need you to slide off my back.”

She hesitates. “What's wrong?”

“Someone is watching us.”

The acrid smell of her fear floods my nostrils as she dismounts, her feet barely hitting the wooden planks before a massive Wolf emerges from the trees across the way.

He’s enormous, easily matching my size, heavily muscled, with thick, gray-black fur and bright golden eyes.

“Who are you?” I call out, although I fear I already know. He must be the one the Stags warned us about.

“My name is Sevryn,” he says, his voice deep and rumbling. “I’ve come for the girl.”

Instinctively, I place myself between Rapunzel and the Wolf, my every muscle tense as I stare him down, growling low in my throat. “You cannot have her.”