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Horace…Horace would be our ever-faithful grumpy guard.

Doing what needed to be done and sacrificing his time and energy to keep me safe.

He was also secretly a teddy bear. He’d grunt, pretend to be uncaring, and then tell me I was blind.

That everything I never knew I wanted was right within my grasp.

I exhaled loudly and set my small bag and the quiver of arrows on a large, flat stone.

I started with my daggers, pulling them from their sheaths at my thigh and twirling them in each of my hands as I sauntered closer to the trees and targets across from me.

I hadn’t had the time or freedom to train in a while.

There wasn’t much of a reason to, ever since Gayl died and I took over as empress-elect.

I was no longer the one patrolling the streets at night, taking down bandits and terrorists and stopping violence before it reached those who couldn’t defend themselves. I had people to do that for me now.

I tossed one of the daggers into the air and caught it with my right hand, quickly taking aim and sending it flying into the trunk of a tree fifteen feet away.

People I commanded .

I spun and launched the other dagger to my left mid-leap, watching it land right below the first with a satisfying thwack .

People who relied on me.

The image of the woman with the arrow through her neck who’d died in my arms flared back to life, followed by Katrine lying ashen and rotted.

I stalked to the tree and wrenched the daggers free, then repositioned myself in the clearing. Gripping one, I aimed for a trunk farther away from the first and pulled my elbow back.

I always catered to what everyone else needed. What everyone else asked of me.

Like my council.

I flung the dagger with a grunt, and it zipped through the air to find its mark.

Or Galen.

I sent the second one following close on its tail.

And I did it willingly, because that was who I was supposed to be.

For the longest time, that was who I wanted to be.

The one others came to, whom they trusted in, because so many people needed that constant in their lives.

They needed to feel safe. And I loved being that constant piece they could cling to.

But what happened when they took those pieces of me with them? What happened when there was nothing left for me to hold?

I strode to the trees and yanked the daggers out with more force than I intended, bringing bits of bark showering down onto the forest floor.

Spinning on my heels, I took up the same spot and fired dagger after dagger, envisioning a different moment of the last four weeks with each twirl of the blade, each glint of steel.

Everen Stryker and his bigoted mouth. Strike . The assassin at the bar. Thump . The carriage driver. Thwack . Galen’s secrets.

Dion Silenus. Rhys Penworth. The wary, judgmental eyes of people afraid of what they didn’t understand.

The fox burning at the stake.

Galen’s hands on my face, his lips on my skin.

Katrine’s lifeless features staring up at me.

I threw a dagger again, but this time it fell to the ground at the roots of the tree. I leaned forward with a gasp and steadied myself. The hole I’d made in the trunk had become too wide for the blade to find purchase.

My shoulders fell with a sigh. It was in these moments of seclusion when I could let my emotions through. The overwhelming ones I kept locked away for fear of unleashing the animal, of being unable to control my actions or words.

Thorne had said they made me strong. But he didn’t see what a mess I was half the time.

Except…he had, I supposed. When I shifted and hurt him, and when he’d watched me try and pick up the pieces. How I’d almost fallen apart on multiple occasions from panic, from memories and fears I couldn’t get rid of.

Who is strong for you?

“What did that poor tree ever do to you?” a low voice said from behind me. I whirled and almost sent a dagger straight into his chest before I stopped myself with a sharp exhale.

“It’s not wise to sneak up on a girl with daggers in her hand, Lord Reaux.”

He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Consider me warned. You're quite handy with those blades.”

My heart skipped a beat at the sight of his long hair pulled back in a strap at the nape of his neck, his loose shirt with rolled-up sleeves, that familiar necklace swinging against a smattering of dark chest hair.

The very top of a red, jagged line peeked out, and I remembered how my claw marks felt beneath his shirt.

“How long have you been standing there?” I asked.

“Long enough to see you mutilate island property.” He motioned to the wrecked tree trunk.

“Well, I didn’t like the way it looked at me.”

He chuckled, that deep rumble sending waves of heat across my skin. “I think you’ve taught it its lesson.” He glanced down at the bow resting on the boulder off to the side. “Are you as adept with this as you are with your daggers?”

I smothered the sly grin that started to work itself onto my face. This could be fun .

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. It’s pretty new for me. I figured I should learn since they’re sending me on this Hunt tomorrow.”

He frowned. “A what?”

“Some top-secret mission where I have to kill a wild stag, or my family is cursed for all eternity,” I said dramatically, then winced.

“Probably too soon for jokes like that, in hindsight. Hector just got done telling me about it. Tomorrow morning, they’ll leave me in the eastern jungles until I can find and kill the island blood stag. ”

“You’ll be alone?” he asked, his frown deepening. I nodded. “Are you sure that’s the best idea? Someone is still trying to kill you.”

“And we left them on the mainland,” I said. “Nobody else came aboard our ship, and you have the docks being watched for any newcomers, remember? There’s been nothing suspicious in over three days.”

He took another step, and I had to look up to meet his gaze. “I still don’t like the idea of nobody being there to protect you.”

“I think I can handle it,” I murmured.

“I know you can. But I wish you didn’t always have to.” He held my stare, and after a heavy moment passed, he looked at the bow. “Do you need help?”

I bit the inside of my cheek to suppress a smile. I nodded, blinking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. I could practically see his spine straighten and his chest broaden with masculine pride as he reached down to pick up the weapon, then led me to the center of the clearing.

Men. They were too easy.

I followed him, letting him position me with my feet shoulder-width apart.

“You want a solid base,” he said, then tapped my feet with the tip of his shoe.

“Point your toes slightly out for better balance, but keep your hips and shoulders facing your target.” His hands fell to my waist, gently guiding them forward.

My breath hitched when his thumb slipped beneath the edge of my shirt, his skin grazing the ridge above my hip bone.

“Good,” he murmured. My eyes met his, and the whisper of wind through the trees and birds chirping in the distance grew faint. I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry, and his gaze latched onto the motion.

“What now?” I asked softly.

His eyes lingered on mine a moment longer before he backed away, knelt to grab the bow, and stepped behind me. “You favor your right hand, yes?” he asked, and I nodded. “Then take the bow like this”—he placed it in my left hand—“and hold the grip here. Make sure your hand is relaxed.”

He stood with his chest to my back as he reached out and covered my left hand with his, those corded arms flexing at the motion. His quiet words brushed along my neck, making the hair there rise. The heat left me for a moment when he bent down to pick up an arrow and nocked it onto the bowstring.

“Draw the string back like this as far as you can go,” he said, leaning in closer. Warm lips skimmed my ear as I pulled the bowstring back. His other hand wrapped around my elbow and carefully lowered it. All I could feel was his body pressed to mine, his warmth seeping into my back.

“How does that feel?” he asked in a whisper.

“Perfect,” I breathed out.

“Then let go, Empress.”

At the last moment, I shifted my aim ever so slightly and released the string, watching as the arrow embedded itself into a tree to the left of the red target.

“Oops,” I said.

He chuckled. “No, that was good. Let me go get it, and we can try again.”

He strode off toward the line of trees, and I let out a breath to clear my head. I quickly grabbed another arrow from the quiver, nocked it, and closed my left eye, steadying my breaths. Muscle memory from all those nights spent practicing came back to me as I smirked.

I pulled back the string and let it fly.

The arrow zipped through the air, cutting the feather off the first one and sinking an inch above it, right before Thorne’s hand stretched out to grab it.

He cursed and whirled to face me.

“Was that one better?” I called out.

His features morphed from shock to exasperation, a laugh slipping free as he shook his head. “Let me guess—you never needed help.”

I shot him a wink. “You were adorable, though.”

He stalked toward me with a predatory gleam in his eyes and a grin curling on his lips, abandoning the arrows. “You could have taken my hand off, you know.”

“Don’t you trust me?” I asked, tilting my head.

His smile faded as he drew nearer, and my own dropped as the air became heady and weighted. “With everything I am,” he said softly. He moved a strand of hair behind my ear, so close now that his chest brushed against mine.

Voices and footsteps crunching on leaves reached our ears from the path at my back, and his eyes shot up as he took a step away from me.

“Can I see you tonight?” he whispered.

I bit down on my lip. “Thorne, I?—”

“Please, Empress. One last time.”

My heart hammered so loud, I could hear it in my ears. Every beat whispered yes . Every thump of my pulse murmured his name.

Before him, I never listened to my heart. It was always the most selfish part of me, and a leader couldn’t be selfish.

But perhaps one more time, I could be.

Swallowing hard, I met his gaze and nodded.

“Yes.”