Page 33 of Returned to the Vissigroth (The Vissigroths of Leander #6)

“Zyn,” Mallack said cheerfully, already striding toward the edge of camp. “Darryck, you too. Come on. Give them space. We’ve got our own work to get back to—they'll be safe now that you brought half the damn dragoon corps with you.”

Darryck hesitated, glancing at Thalia. She gave him a nod, a small smile playing on her lips, and she arched an eyebrow at Mallack to let him know that she was aware of how he was trying to sneak the males out.

“Go,” she said. “I’m safe here.”

He exhaled and followed Mallack and Myccael without further argument.

As they walked away, I caught a snippet of Mallack’s low voice, “I don’t know what she remembers. But when she looked at Thalia…” he trailed off, but I didn’t need to hear the rest. I felt it too. That unshakable certainty that some pieces of me were coming back together.

Thalia turned toward me, her eyes still rimmed with tears, though they shimmered with something gentler now. “You’re really here,” she whispered again, like she couldn’t quite believe it even now.

I reached for her hands and held them tightly between mine. “I don’t remember much. Hardly anything, really. But when I saw you…” My throat caught, but I forced the words out. “It was like something inside me finally exhaled.”

She nodded, her expression softening. “I felt it too. I’ve seen portraits of you, videos, and Darryck and Father told stories; I even dreamed of what it would be like to meet you, but nothing, nothing prepared me for you. ”

I chuckled, watery and uneven. “You sound like your father.”

Her lips curled. “Don’t let him hear you say that. He’ll get smug.”

“Too late,” I said, glancing toward the hill where the males were disappearing. “He already is.”

We both laughed, and the sound was healing in ways I hadn’t expected. It wasn’t like waking from a dream; it was more like discovering I hadn’t been dreaming at all. That the ache in my heart hadn’t been emptiness, but the shape of something I’d once had, and maybe could have again.

Thalia reached into the pack on her belt and pulled something small out, a polished stone the color of sunset glass, wrapped in a delicate copper wire. She handed it to me. “I brought this. I don’t know why. I just… I thought you might like it.”

I turned the stone over in my fingers. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s from Gorgolum,” she said quietly. “Where the Zuten were buried. Where they were reborn. I guess I thought… maybe it would help.”

I held the stone against my chest. “It does.”

"I grabbed it after I heard the rumors of you. I didn't want to believe them," her smile was pressed and wry, "but I guess deep down I must have."

"Thank you," I kissed both of her cheeks, and I couldn't find the words to describe how that felt.

Being able to kiss my daughter. It was incredible.

Even though I had no memories of missing her, there was something inside me, a remnant of a memory, a sadness, that was dissipating with every passing second.

Like a bad smell after you open the windows.

Oksana stepped closer. She had stayed silent and respectful a few paces away. “I don’t know you,” she said, not unkindly. “And I'm sure there is a big story behind you being here—” she jerked her chin in the direction Myccael had gone, “—but, what are those males up to?”

Thalia followed Oksana’s gaze toward the rise where the males had disappeared. Her brows pinched together immediately. “They look like they’re about to sneak off.”

Oksana snorted. “They are sneaking off.”

I squinted, and sure enough, Mallack, Darryck, and Myccael were gathered near the nictas.

Low voices, purposeful strides. I recognized that look on Mallack’s face: focus laced with quiet frustration.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t just a friendly patrol.

I stood abruptly, dusting my hands on the front of my breeches.

“They’re going to explore the Zuten chamber. ”

Both seffies froze.

“The what now?” Thalia asked sharply.

I nodded and explained in clipped words, “The workers here found something while digging for the magrail. It looks like ancient Zuten ruins. We believe that the mountains are riddled with them, and that the Eulachs have accessed Zuten weapons and are trading them with the Renegades."

Thalia’s expression darkened immediately. “You’re sure?”

I met her gaze squarely. "Zyn."

She cursed softly, her voice sharp with concern. “And they didn’t think to tell us?”

“I doubt they want us involved,” Oksana said dryly, arms crossed. “Probably think we’d get in the way.”

“Well,” Thalia said, her tone flat and decisive, “they’re wrong.”

There was fire in her now. That same unshakable will I’d seen earlier when she rode in. The kind I suspected she’d gotten from both her parents.

“I don’t know about you,” she said, already checking the weapons strapped to her belt, “but I hate the idea of them going off on their own.”

“Agreed,” Oksana said without hesitation.

I felt it too, that twinge of unease. The mountains weren’t just stone anymore. They were mystery and threat, a graveyard of something ancient and angry. Letting the three most important males in our lives walk into that alone? Ney. Absolutely not.

Thalia turned to me, hesitating for the first time. “I want to hear everything. All of it. About you. About… everything.” Her voice caught. “But?—”

“Zyn,” I interrupted, already moving to fetch a cloak from the side of the tent, “let’s not let them get away.”

Oksana let out a short laugh. “Gods, you two really are related.”

Thalia grinned at me, wide and teary-eyed and filled with something fierce. “Come on, Mother,” she said, and the word made my insides fly. “Let’s make sure they don’t start the fun without us.”

I nodded, that thread of warmth inside me tightening, strengthening. “Lead the way.”

We crested the rise just as Darryck’s voice reached us on the wind, low but fervent. “…we'll send dragoons all around the mountains; there have to be openings, we just have to find them.

“Ladies.” Darryck saw us approaching first and threw out a warning to the others, who all turned to look at us.

“What can we do for you?” Myccael asked, too smoothly. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“For starters, we’ll need nictas,” Oksana said brightly, a sugary smile aimed at her mate.

It was almost comical, watching all three warriors freeze and stiffen like they'd just been asked to hand over their swords.

“Ney,” Mallack said flatly, before Myccael could speak again. “Absolutely ney.”

Thalia’s brow rose. “Excuse me?”

Myccael stepped forward, his tone firm but not unkind. “I’m leading the vissigroths into a potential clash with Eulachs and outlaw remnants. That is no place for a seffy.”

Thalia’s boot crunched against the gravel as she took a sharp step forward towards Darryck. “Do you remember what happened the last time you went off to war on your own?”

Darryck stiffened like she’d drawn a blade. His mouth opened, then shut, then opened again. “That was different?—”

Oksana leaned toward me and muttered under her breath, “I heard it ended in a scandal and a duel.”

I blinked. “A duel ?”

She nodded, clearly not at all bothered by the prospect of a repeat.

Darryck seemed to rally. His voice rose, his shoulders squared. “This is not some border skirmish or hunting party. This is war. It’s real, it’s dangerous, and I will not have the three of you marching into a potential ambush because of—” To his credit, he hesitated.

“Because of what?” Thalia asked, her voice pure velvet and venom.

He wisely didn’t answer.

Mallack stepped in then, his voice lower, quieter, but more final. “Daphne. If something happens to you again,” He stopped himself, jaw clenched. “Ney. I won’t let it happen.”

“I’m not fragile,” I said softly.

“I know,” he said, meeting my eyes. “But I’m not risking you either. Not until we know what’s waiting in those mountains.”

Myccael crossed his arms, nodding. “Same goes for you two,” he said, glancing at Thalia and Oksana. “This isn’t about what’s fair. This is strategy. We need you safe in case this turns into something larger.”

Oksana didn’t argue. Not with words. But the sharpness in her gaze promised a reckoning later. Thalia looked from Darryck to Myccael to Mallack, her eyes narrowing. “So you’re really doing this?”

“We are,” Darryck said, not unkindly. “And we’ll be back before dusk. Stay in camp.”

It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command. Thalia bristled. But when she looked at me and saw the way Mallack stood so still, as if one wrong word might break him, she swallowed her protest.

“Fine,” she bit out.

Oksana exhaled through her nose. “You better not die,” she told Myccael, shoving a dagger into his belt. “Because if you do, I’ll bring you back just to kill you again.”

He gave her a grin and kissed her quickly, already mounting his nicta.

Mallack paused as he passed me. His fingers brushed mine—just a whisper of contact—but it said everything.

“Be here when I get back,” he said softly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered back.

He nodded once, then swung into the saddle beside Myccael and Darryck.

And just like that, the three of them rode toward the dark line of the mountains, leaving the three of us behind, furious, worried, and already plotting how to make them regret it.