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T eryn didn’t know how many minutes had passed. All he knew was that he couldn’t look away from Cora. He’d only obeyed her order to close his eyes for a few moments before his eyelids flew open. At first, it had been out of panic, but as her face filled his vision, calm settled over him. They were so close he could count every one of Cora’s dark eyelashes, every freckle dancing over her nose. His hand felt warm on her back, and where they both held the unicorn, their arms touched. An otherness had surrounded them then, something Teryn wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to explain. He didn’t see it with his eyes or feel it with his senses. It was just there. The indescribable buzz of magic.

He hadn’t known what Cora was doing, had seen nothing to explain what made the hunters walk by without giving them a second glance. He’d only seen her . For one strange moment, he’d felt connected to her in a way that defied reason. He’d felt her heart thrum as his own. Felt her breath move through his lungs. It was unsettling and yet completely noninvasive. He’d welcomed it. Yearned for it.

But now the otherness was beginning to fade with every breath. His pulse became his own, no longer entangled with Cora’s and the unicorn’s. He realized Cora’s eyes were open now too and were locked on his. Slowly, she pulled her hand away from the tree trunk, but still, they didn’t separate. She said something to him then, but his mind was too befuddled to comprehend it.

“What?”

“You’re still holding on to me,” she whispered, her voice unsteady.

He gulped, finding his tongue heavy as he searched for words. “You said not to let you go until you said so.”

“Oh.” A soft smile crossed her lips, a hint of a blush coloring her cheeks. “You can let me go now.”

He held on a beat longer, then slowly slid his hand from around her waist. The baby unicorn, who’d grown surprisingly calm in the wake of such strange events, was all that connected them.

“I can carry her,” Teryn said. “I think it’s safe to say she feels comfortable enough with me now.”

“All right.” Teryn was surprised she didn’t argue. She slipped her arm from the unicorn and stepped away. Teryn felt oddly cold. Empty. Whatever had happened at the tree…it had severely messed with his mind.

He wasn’t even sure why he’d done what she’d told him to. He could have waited until the perfect moment and shoved her before the hunters—if that was even who those men had been. He’d been too focused on Cora when the figures had walked by, but when he’d first heard the hunting horns, he’d known his plan had worked. His father had sent word to King Dimetreus. The king knew they were heading to this camp next, knew Cora would try to rescue the unicorns. Because that was what Teryn’s letter to his father had said.

I’ll bring her to the Cambron Pass camp in exchange for her bounty .

He’d suspected his plan had worked as soon as he and Cora had stalked the camp and found only a young boy guarding it. Terror had surged through him then, even though he should have been pleased. He should have wanted his plan to come to fruition, right?

After that, he’d expected an ambush at any moment. It hadn’t come. Part of him had hoped—as nonsensical as the hope was—that maybe his letter hadn’t reached the king. Or perhaps it hadn’t been taken seriously, or the king hadn’t been prepared to react on such short notice. Relief had washed over him as they’d freed the unicorns, but it all fled the moment he’d heard the horns.

And now…

Now he didn’t know what to think. He’d allowed Cora to hide them. Had wanted her to hide them. Even with his mind growing sharper, clearer, he had no desire to shout, to call back the hunters, to turn her in.

“We must go,” Cora said and started off with caution.

If he took one step away from the camp, he knew what he was leaving behind.

500,000 sovas . Enough to save his kingdom.

All he had to do was turn in a wanted murderer.

Cora glanced over her shoulder, brow furrowed as she noticed his hesitation. She held out her hand, her tattooed palm extended his way. “Come on,” she whispered. Her eyes were bright, her lips curled into a soft smile. She’d changed after what had happened at the tree. Whatever magic she’d used, she glowed with it now, radiated with it in unseen ways.

Teryn took a deep breath, knowing he was about to seal his fate. Hefting the unicorn in both arms, he returned her grin and followed after her.

Cora felt alive in a way she’d never been before. Her use of magic had defied reason, obliterated coincidence, and negated any chance that she, Teryn, and the baby unicorn had evaded notice by happenstance alone. She’d made them invisible . Just like witch lore claimed was possible.

She understood now why it was referred to as quiet magic. Sure, her feat of invisibility was incredible to her, but to the hunters or anyone else that could have walked by that tree…to them it was like it never happened.

The aftereffects surged through her veins, pulsed in every line of ink on her skin. Resisting her instincts to run had been hard. Choosing magic over her bow had been harder. In overcoming her personal challenge, her magic had grown stronger. It still felt quiet and there was much more for her to learn, but now she believed the possibilities she’d once turned her nose up at.

Teryn too seemed changed. She’d sensed a shift in his emotions, from something dark and heavy to a lightness akin to relief. He still clung to a hint of the sorrow she’d glimpsed right after they’d rescued the unicorn, but his steps were lighter now, his smile freer. Perhaps it was just the comfort that came with knowing they’d escaped the hunters.

Valorre found them not long after. He was frantic with worry over not having warned them about the approaching hunters. Just as Cora had thought, he’d been out of range while he’d tried to direct his freed brethren to safer grounds. Thankfully, Berol had been there, even though her warning hadn’t given them much of an advantage. She flew overhead now, keeping her distance from Teryn while he carried the unicorn.

What should we do with the baby? Cora asked Valorre.

The unicorn went still, ears twitching. Finally, he said, I think her mother is near. Or…near enough. I can feel one of my kind lingering somewhere in the pass. She knows it isn’t safe but she’s…seeking something.

Can you take us to her?

Valorre considered that. No, the mother will fear you. I will take her myself.

Cora was worried the baby unicorn might still be too shaken to walk. She turned to Teryn. “You can try putting her down.”

He did as told, gently setting the unicorn on her hooves. She stumbled a little, legs splayed, but managed to keep her balance. She was no longer trembling like she’d been outside the camp.

Valorre took a few steps closer.

The baby lowered her head, posture startled. After a few moments of warily examining the much larger unicorn, she took a step toward him. Then another. Her gait was steady as she closed the remaining distance. Valorre gave her an affectionate nuzzle, then lifted his head toward Cora. She will be fine. I will take her now .

Cora’s heart clenched as she watched Valorre guide the tiny creature away.

Teryn came up beside her. Berol was settled on his shoulder, preening. “We really did it,” he said. “We actually freed four unicorns.”

She turned to face him. “Thank you for helping me,” she said, finding the words easier to say than she expected. She didn’t want to admit that she’d been wrong in her hesitation to let him accompany her, but…perhaps she had been.

“You’re welcome,” he said, and again a hint of sorrow crept into the edges of her awareness. She strengthened her shields, blocking it completely. After what she’d accomplished at the tree, she needed a reprieve.

They made their way back toward camp, the sun barely a hint of light on the horizon. A comfortable silence fell between them, which was such a stark contrast to the tense quiet they’d kept earlier that day. They were nearing camp when Teryn whirled to face her.

Cora pulled up short. His expression told her that perhaps the silence had only been comfortable on her end. She frowned. “What is it?”

“We should leave this area tonight.”

“What? Why would we do that?”

He folded his arms, shoulders tense. “The hunters will know someone knocked out their guard and freed the unicorns. They might try to track us. If not tonight, then tomorrow.”

Cora’s eyes widened, all of her pleasant feelings evaporating. “You’re the one who wanted to avoid bloodshed. You only just now realize your plan has put us at a greater risk?”

“I’m sorry,” he rushed to say. “Let’s leave at once. Go…far from here.”

She backed up a step, eyes narrowing. “My mission isn’t done. You saw the map. There are still numerous other hunting parties. I can’t let them continue to hunt unicorns.”

“What are you planning to do? Poison all of them? What about when they’re replaced with new recruits? These men are mercenaries and convicted criminals. There’s no shortage of more like them.”

Cora felt a crushing weight fall over her. He was right. It was too much. Still, she shook the overwhelming feeling from her heart and lifted her chin. “I will do whatever I can.”

“To what end? You can’t poison them all. Sooner or later, they’ll catch on. They’ll be waiting for you. This…this isn’t sustainable. You can’t do this on your own.”

She threw her hands in the air. “You knew that when you asked to come with me. Is that not the very reason you begged to aid my efforts?”

He clenched his jaw, giving no answer.

She rolled her eyes with a scoff. “We ran into one close call and now you realize this isn’t all fun and games. You should have known from the start that this wouldn’t be some glamorous quest where you save the damsel in distress and come home the shining hero, bearing not a single scratch. I meant it when I said that I don’t need you, but…” Her throat went dry. She tried to swallow her next words down, but they burst from her lips before she could stop them. “I liked having you around today.”

His expression softened, eyes turning down at the corners, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Cora…” His voice was soft, strained.

She took a step closer, her heart pounding in her chest. With a slow exhale, she lowered her shields just long enough to feel his turmoil. His emotions were too jumbled to untangle completely, but she identified guilt. Shame. Fear. It left a bitter taste in her mouth. “What is it, Teryn? What aren’t you telling me?”

Slowly, he lifted his eyes and met hers, his expression pure agony. “Did you kill Queen Linette and Princess Aveline?”

Her breath left her lungs. She was more stunned than if he’d slapped her. For several moments, all she could do was stare. Suspicion crawled up her spine, raking claws through her heart. “How long have you known?”

He paled. “You did it then.”

She took a step back, a spike of fury sending heat to her cheeks. “No, of course I didn’t.”

His eyes narrowed as he watched her, his arms stiff at his side. Berol too stared from her perch on his shoulder, wings slightly lifted. Teryn’s fingers flinched, a subtle movement toward his sheathed sword. She went to reach for her bow only to realize she’d already wrapped her hand around it. When had she done that? Suddenly she understood that was why his posture was suddenly defensive—because she’d reached for a weapon first. And yet he kept his hand open at his side, ready to fight should it come to that, but not willing to make the first move.

It was almost painful to force her hand away from her bow, to ball her fingers into fists. As soon as she did, Teryn visibly relaxed. Berol ruffled her feathers and nestled back down.

“I was framed,” she said, voice quavering with restraint, “by Duke Morkai.”

His eyes went wide. “The man orchestrating the hunt for unicorns? He framed you for murder?”

She nodded.

“So, what you’re doing with the unicorns, with the hunters. It’s…personal.”

Another nod.

He studied her again, and she could feel the doubt pouring off of him. Of course he wouldn’t believe her. How could anyone take the word of a poison-wielding witch over one of the most powerful men in Khero?

She waited for him to react. To ask her to prove her innocence. To sneer, argue, or condemn.

But he didn’t.

“All right,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Then once more, clearer, louder. “All right. Then it’s even more important that we leave at once.” Without another word, he stormed off.

She blinked in his wake, confused by his reaction. He was nearly swallowed by shadows far ahead by the time she started following after him. She had to jog to keep up with him when she reached his side. “What’s going on, Teryn?”

He said nothing, only quickened his pace. It was enough to send Berol launching off his shoulder to follow them from above instead.

Her heart was a thundering, rioting mess as they marched into camp.

They pulled up short.

Lex stood as soon as he saw them. His eyes were wide as he searched their faces. Then his gaze swept over the five figures who stood silently around them. “I have no idea who these people are,” he said, voice pitched with fright.

Cora, however, knew exactly who they were. Four of them wore black armor etched with a crescent moon. Guards. The fifth wore an elegant black coat embroidered with gold geometric designs that ran down the front and hems. Black leather gloves adorned his hands, and in one he gripped a gentleman’s cane topped with an enormous amber crystal.

Cora’s eyes locked on his face.

She recognized his black hair, his arched brows, and the pale shade of his blue irises. His cheekbones were sharp, his jaw sharper.

“Morkai,” she said through her teeth.

The duke ignored Cora but nodded graciously at Teryn. “King Dimetreus was both surprised and pleased by your correspondence. Thank you ever so much for finding her. Your reward will be generous indeed.”

Cora’s gaze shot to Teryn. She saw the guilt written in his eyes and finally understood what she’d sensed all along. Her shoulders sagged as her heart crumbled inside her chest, pierced with icy talons of betrayal.

Morkai faced her, the smug tilt to his lips revealing how greatly he relished her pain. “Hello, Princess Aveline. It’s been a while.”