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T eryn wasn’t entirely sure why he followed after Cora. He told himself it was to spy, to see where she went and ensure she wasn’t plucking poisonous berries to shove down his throat in retribution. But that wasn’t the full truth. He was concerned. He’d heard the pitiful pitch of her cries that had roused him from sleep, had seen beads of tears clinging to her dark lashes as she’d held her knife to his throat. For a moment, it had been like she was somewhere else, trapped in her mind. He’d had every intention of pushing her off of him at the first chance, but instead…

He blushed as he recalled the look in her eyes when he’d brought up pleasure and touch. Seven gods, he’d flirted with her. With a woman who would sooner butcher him than bed him.

I only said what I did to shock her into calming down , he told himself. That too was a lie. He’d said it because he’d wanted to get a rise out of her. Wanted to taste her rage and test the bounds of her anger. Did he have a damn death wish? Who flirts with a woman he’s planning to betray?

He shook the thought from his head as he trailed her. Valorre trotted past him, following after her too. They both disappeared into the dark. Still, he followed.

He spotted Valorre first. The unicorn stood at what Teryn realized was the edge of a rounded cliff. His white coat shone beneath the light of the moon, the ridges of his spiral horn glittering with reflected starlight. Teryn’s heart leapt into his throat as he considered that Cora might be on the other side of the cliff’s edge. She could have run blindly and taken a fall.

Then he saw her. Not far from Valorre, her small form was curled at the base of a tree, knees to her chest, shoulders heaving with quiet sobs. Teryn suddenly regretted coming after her. Her grief was not his to witness.

He took a slow step back, but Cora’s face whipped up, stopping him in his tracks.

She rose to her feet and crossed her arms. “What are you doing here?”

“I…” He searched for words, his throat dry. “I just wanted to see if you were all right.”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

Teryn knew he should leave. He was only making her more upset. If he wasn’t careful, she might throw a knife at him. But despite telling his feet to walk the other way, he found himself stepping forward instead. Not toward her, but to the edge of the cliff. The Cambron Pass sprawled out before him, cloaked in darkness. Somewhere out there, the next group of hunters awaited. The thought chilled him, made him wonder if everything he was doing was reckless. He could lose his life doing what he was about to do. All so he could save his kingdom. Would the sacrifice be worth it? He glanced over his shoulder and found Cora watching him. His stomach sank with guilt. Would sacrificing her be worth it?

She’s a killer , he reminded himself for the hundredth time. But right now, she didn't look like a killer at all. She looked…fragile. Not like a glass trinket. She was nothing like the soft women who fluttered about court. She was more like a blade, one that was forged to be mighty but still bore chips and scratches.

“I used to have nightmares.” The sound of his own voice caught him off guard.

She stared at him, jaw set. At first, it didn’t seem like she’d reply. Then, uncrossing her arms, she returned to the tree and leaned her back against it. Valorre nuzzled her shoulder, and Cora reached up to stroke the space between his eyes. “Let me guess,” she said dryly. “You had them when you were young. Like every other child.”

He gave her a weak grin. “If you'd consider me a child three years ago, then yes.”

She met his eyes briefly, then returned her gaze to Valorre. “What were they about?”

He gulped before answering. “War.”

“Why war?”

It really wasn’t something he should talk about. Not only did he not enjoy talking about it but she had no right to know. Yet he found himself speaking regardless. “I…I don’t know how much you know of my kingdom…”

She gave a noncommittal shrug.

“Well, a few years ago, my father attempted to replace my mother with his mistress.” His lungs tightened. He remembered the yelling, the shouts. The way his sisters had cried. How he’d dragged them away to play games and pretend their family wasn’t falling apart. “Dermaine Palace erupted with scandal. My mother fought to keep her crown while I…I was caught in the middle. Between Mother, Father, and my half brother. I loved all of them and realized I was about to lose at least one of them to some degree. My mother’s home kingdom threatened war, and that’s when I started having nightmares. Not all of them were truly about battles waged on Menah’s shores but the familial war already wreaking havoc on my life.”

Teryn glanced at Cora and found her staring, brow furrowed, hand frozen on Valorre’s face. The unicorn nudged her to resume petting him. She tore her gaze from Teryn. “That sounds rough.”

He released a heavy sigh and tried to make his voice sound casual. “I led a charmed life up until then, so who am I to complain?”

Her eyes flickered to his, and he saw her expression soften.

“What about you?” he asked. “What was your childhood like? Have you always been on your own?”

Her lips pulled into a frown. “In one way or another, yes. My parents died when I was young. I was devastated when Father died, but when Mother followed…a part of me broke. I felt like there was no one left alive who understood me.” Her throat bobbed, and her expression grew hard again. “It’s also when my…my gifts started developing and I realized I wasn’t like other people.”

A witch, she meant. His pulse quickened at that. Even though he knew it to be true, he was still bewildered by it. People didn’t believe in magic or witches. They weren’t supposed to be real. And yet, he’d met both a witch and a unicorn in a single week. He hesitated before asking his next question, unsure if she’d deign to answer. “What exactly does it mean to be a witch? I’ve never met one before you.” He rushed to say the last part.

She snorted a dark laugh. “We’re certainly not about blood-filled cauldrons and human sacrifice, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Well, what are you about, then? You know, aside from rescuing unicorns, threatening princes with sharp objects, and poisoning evil men. Is poison your only magic?”

“Poison is the least of my magic,” she said with an indignant scoff. For a moment, he worried he’d offended her, but she spoke again. “I’m clairsentient,” she explained, “which means I experience clear feeling. Every witch has an affinity for one of the senses. There are five others in addition to clairsentience. Clairvoyance is clear seeing. Clairaudience relates to hearing. Clairalience is smelling. Clairgustance is taste. And claircognizance revolves around knowing.”

Teryn tried to keep the awe off his face. He’d only heard of such abilities in myths and faerytales. “So, what does it mean to experience magical feeling the way you do?”

“It…it’s kind of hard to explain. Generally, a clairsentient witch uses her own emotions, internal physical responses, and touch to connect with her magic. A certain physical sensation could mean danger while a specific emotion could mean luck. Every witch is different and it takes some time to understand how to utilize one’s magic. I, however, am a little different. I tap into my magic with feeling as well, but I am also able to feel the feelings of others. One of our elders told me I might be an empath.”

“An empath?” Teryn echoed.

“A witch with very strong clairsentience. An empath’s senses aren’t limited to her own, and she can use them to perceive outside thoughts, feelings, and energies. It’s something I’ve been able to do since I was a child. It was nothing but a curse when I was younger. It led to some…very bad experiences. It wasn’t until I met other people like me that I learned to control it and shield myself from others’ emotions.”

“When you say people like you, do you mean…other witches? Are you part of a coven?”

She chuckled. “Something like that.”

Teryn was once again struck with awe. Could it really be that magic was real and there were others like Cora? If so, was it a good thing? Or a bad thing? A startling realization dawned on him. She could read emotions. No wonder he’d always felt so unsettled by her gaze. She was probably absorbing his feelings all the while. Did that mean…did she know…

He shook the thought from his mind. His muscles tensed. Suddenly every single thought felt dangerous. “So, your powers,” he said slowly. “Can you read my mind?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, it’s not like that. I still have to process what I receive through my own feelings. While I can tune in at will, the level of information I glean varies. Some things jump out at me at random, overwhelming my own senses. It can happen even when I’m shielding. Other times it’s just…just an emotion I have to put a name to. It’s like reading a book in another language that you’ve only just begun to learn.”

The visual worked surprisingly well for him. He’d been tutored in several languages, but he was only fluent in three. The rest he understood in fits and starts. His eyes fell to her hands. She’d begun brushing them through Valorre’s mane, revealing the dark ink decorating her palms and forearms. The designs formed esoteric symbols like moon phases and geometric configurations unlike anything he’d seen before. In fact, he’d seen very few women with tattoos at all. He had to admit they were stunning. “Do your tattoos have anything to do with magic?”

“They are a tradition amongst the—” She paused and shook her head as if she were about to say something she didn’t want to. Slower, she said, “Amongst my coven. They are symbolic of a witch’s experience with magic. Some think they also help us channel our magic’s flow.”

“ Some think?” He quirked a brow. “Do you not believe? Are you a skeptic when it comes to your own magic?”

“No, I believe,” she said but there was certainly doubt in her tone. “It’s just…sometimes I wish magic were more obvious. The most common feats of magic can be explained away by coincidence, imagination, or science. I’ve only ever seen one kind that couldn’t.” Her eyes took on a distant quality that reminded him of how she’d looked after her nightmare.

“Why are you on your own now?” he asked, mostly to guide her away from what was clearly a distressing subject. “Where is your coven?”

“I lived with them until recently. I left them after I met Valorre. I knew I needed to save his brethren, and my people…well, they couldn’t help me.”

“Why not?”

She stiffened, and Teryn could tell he was approaching yet another prickly topic. “I don’t know how witches are treated where you’re from, but here they aren’t exactly considered upstanding members of society. They can’t go gallivanting around the woods on crusades against fae creature injustice. Remember how you told me you’ve never met a witch before? That’s because society doesn’t treat us kindly. We stay hidden because it isn’t safe for us to be found.”

Teryn felt a weight in his chest, one that made him second-guess if he was doing the right thing. What if he was wrong about her? She couldn’t have been very old when she killed Queen Linette and Princess Aveline. What if the crimes had been accidental? An unfortunate side effect of her growing clairsentience?

Both murders were deemed the work of poison , he reminded himself. It doesn’t get more intentional than that.

He’d been tempted a few times now to simply ask her. But even if he did, what did he expect her to say? If she was guilty, she’d lie, which meant he couldn’t trust her even if she denied the allegations. And if she was guilty, she’d be onto him. She’d know that he knew and would flee. Or try to kill him outright.

Besides, it was too late. The evidence was in the letter that was now tucked into his vest pocket. It is done , the note said. That was his father’s response to the letter he’d sent Berol with. There was a chance this plan wouldn’t work, of course. That the King of Khero wouldn’t take Arlous’ correspondence seriously. That the timing was terrible and nothing would come of Teryn’s efforts.

The thought almost gave him relief.

Cora’s voice drew him from his internal musings. “I can’t imagine you think any better after what you saw me do to those hunters,” she said, eying him warily.

He met her gaze, once again painfully aware of his own emotions and the fact that she might be reading them right now. With a sigh, he steeled his composure. “They were bad men and you were alone. You did what you had to do.”

She seemed to relax a little at that, but her expression was cold. “I still can’t fathom why you’re helping me.”

“I told you why.”

She stopped brushing Valorre’s mane. There was no jest in her tone when she said, “I don’t entirely trust you.”

He straightened, held her stare. “The feeling is mutual.” He meant it. But for some unfathomable reason, his lips began to quirk up with a smile.

She lifted her chin and smiled back. “Good. Then we at least understand one another.” She strode away from the tree and began heading in the direction of camp, Valorre following in her wake. Her back was turned to him as she paused. “Goodnight, Teryn.”

His lungs felt tight at the sound of his name on her lips. Fear , he tried to label the sensation. Revulsion. Hatred. Guilt . The only one that held even the slightest truth was the last. In reality, the constricting sensation in his chest was something else entirely. It was…pleasant. Not to mention new and terrifying and highly inconvenient. “Goodnight, Cora,” he replied and watched her swaying form disappear between the trees.