Page 25

V rok

We leave the cave early the next morning, while the sky is still soft with the first light of dawn.

The jungle feels different early in the day.

It’s hushed, like it’s still waking up. Liseks flit between branches, and the wind carries the sweet scent of marca blossoms that must be blooming somewhere nearby and damp moss.

Most of the mud has dried from the warmth of the day before, but slick patches still dot the trail. I guide us over the firmest ground, taking care not to let Emily stumble. Not that she needs my help anymore.

Emily walks beside me, not behind. Not like she did before.

There’s something new in the way she carries herself.

Her shoulders are pulled back in a straight line and her chin is lifted.

She moves with purpose, not fear, and her eyes no longer dart around with fear at every little rustle.

Instead, they linger on the way sunlight hits a cluster of pink blossoms or the iridescent wings of a large insectoid as it flutters across the path in front of us.

She’s changed so much from the timid female who first stepped into our village.

Back then, she seemed hollowed out by grief and bracing for the next blow.

She barely spoke, and when she did, her voice was thin with sorrow.

That version of her hid behind silence and tears.

Now, she walks like she has something worth fighting for.

And then there’s this morning, and the memories that burn hot under my skin.

Before my eyes even opened, I felt her. The soft weight of Emily’s body was curled against me, with her head pillowed on my chest. Her sweet scent filled my nostrils, burning itself into my lungs, and sending a burning arrow of desire through my veins.

The warm puff of her breath against my skin was almost maddening as my cock hardened beneath my loincloth.

It took everything in me to stay still, and not to pull her even closer. Not to bury my face in her hair like a male starved.

During the night, she must have moved closer, seeking my comfort and warmth. I tried to convince myself it meant nothing, but I couldn’t lie to myself. It might not have meant anything to her, but it meant everything to me.

When Emily finally opened her eyes, she smiled shyly at me. Before I could say anything, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against my cheek. It was so quick, I almost wondered if I’d imagined it. But I hadn’t.

That small, all-too-swift kiss may have been a casual gesture to her, an impulsive act born of gratitude or comfort. But to me, it was everything. It wasn’t just the softness of her lips or the warmth of her touch. It was what it symbolized.

She trusts me. Not the version of me shaped by my father, not the warrior who stood silent while others suffered. But me. To her, I’m more than my mistakes. I’m someone worth trusting.

Maybe even someone worth caring for.

The realization hits me harder than any battle ever has, leaving me almost unsteady. I don’t know what lies ahead, but for the first time in a long while, I allow myself to hope.

That kind of trust is a rare, fragile thing, and I’ll protect it with everything I have in me. Not just because it’s the right thing to do, but because it’s her trust. Because somewhere along the way, Emily became more than just someone I vowed to keep safe.

I’ve healed faster than I expected. The haze of fever and weakness is gone now, burned away by rest, time, and the quiet, relentless care of the female now walking beside me. Only a dull ache remains where the arrow grazed me.

It could’ve been much worse. If the arrow had gone any deeper or if I had been alone, I might not be walking at all. That thought settles heavily in my chest, not with fear but with gratitude.

I clear my throat and force myself to focus on the path ahead. “We should reach the nesting grounds by tomorrow.”

She nods at my words, her lips pressed into that determined line I’ve come to recognize. “We’ll find her, Vrok. I have to believe that.”

“I know.” And I do. Now.

At first, I didn’t believe Lily had survived. The odds are stacked against anyone taken by an anuroi, but a human? How could they survive such a dangerous beast? I didn’t say it out loud, but I’ve carried the doubt inside me.

Emily has never wavered in her conviction, and little by little, her certainty has started to erode my doubts. It makes me wonder if maybe, just maybe, she’s right. Because I’m starting to believe if anyone can survive the impossible, it’s the humans.

But whether she is right or not, no longer matters. She believes Lily is alive. That belief is enough to carry us both. And for Emily’s sake, I’ll move the stars to find her cousin.

I find myself watching her more than I should.

The sure way she clambers over a fallen log, and the way she scans the terrain with confidence.

She’s not built for this terrain. She wasn’t born and raised here.

She hasn’t ventured into this jungle since she was a kitling.

But she moves like someone who’s made up her mind.

Someone who’s decided to face whatever comes without backing down.

And that makes her braver than any warrior I’ve ever known.

There’s a quiet strength in her, and I’m drawn to it like a dicro to water.

As we keep moving forward, the jungle noise settles into a steady hum.

Somewhere nearby, a scrof moves through the undergrowth.

A flock of colorful psittas flies overhead.

The weight of what we’re searching for presses quietly between us.

There’s no need for words. It feels as if the whole jungle is holding its breath, waiting to reveal something, a sign that brings us closer to Emily’s cousin.

It’s not until well after midday that we find the first sign of Lily.

At first, I didn’t notice it. I’d been focused on scanning for predators and searching for any signs that we were close to the cliffs of the nesting grounds. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spot something small glinting in the sunlight.

I stop abruptly, lifting my hand. “Wait.”

Emily pauses beside me, the soft crunch of leaves beneath her boots falling silent.

I crouch and reach into the low branches of a gnarled tree.

A thin object made of metalloid is caught in the limbs.

Carefully, I close my fingers around it and ease it free.

It’s a delicate golden chain with a small oval pendant dangling from it.

I turn it over in my hands, already knowing who it belongs to.

Emily sucks in a breath. “That’s Lily’s necklace,” she whispers, her voice tight.

She reaches out with trembling hands. Her fingers graze against mine as she takes the necklace from me.

“She always wore it. It belonged to her mom,” she says, almost to herself. Her eyes scan the necklace as if it might hold the answers she’s desperate for.

My gaze lifts to the sky visible through the gaps in the canopy above. “She must have dropped it while the anuroi carried her overhead.”

Emily stiffens. “You mean?—?”

“It likely flew this way as it headed to the nesting grounds,” I explain, pointing in the direction we’ve been traveling. “The clasp looks damaged. Perhaps it snapped during the flight or in a struggle.”

Emily clutches the necklace to her chest. “Then we’re on the right track.” Her voice is laced with fragile hope.

I nod to the trail ahead of us. “The cliffs aren’t too far away, now.”

Without a word, she slips the necklace into the satchel she carries and steps forward. I can see the resolve in her eyes, the fierce, stubborn protectiveness that has driven her this far.

She’s not going to stop. Not now. Not ever.

And I follow her, just a step behind, knowing sarding well that whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.

By the time the day begins to slip toward night, I can see the hazy outline of the cliffs we’re heading for rising like dark, jagged shadows against a sky streaked with pink and purple. We won’t reach them before nightfall.

The jungle slowly thins around us. The dense foliage gives way to scattered trees, boulders as big as a magnis, and patches of open ground. The path curves ahead, dipping gently between two steep ridges.

And then we see it. Lake Mariial.

Nestled like a secret between the stone arms of two ridges, the lake stretches wide and clear before us, its surface shimmering under the fading light.

Tufts of tall grass sway lazily in the breeze rolling down from the cliffs.

The air smells cleaner here, touched with the scent of fresh water and the faint sweetness of some unseen bloom.

Liseks, larger than the ones in Anuriix territory, swoop low over the water, their wings skimming the surface as they dive for prey. Along the shallows, vibrantly colored psittas wade with slow, deliberate steps, dipping their pointy beaks beneath the surface to snatch up water insectoids.

Emily halts so suddenly I nearly bump into her.

“Holy hell,” she breathes out. “It’s beautiful.”

It is. Even I have to admit it.

Near the water’s edge, I spot a massive tree with low-hanging limbs. Its roots twist into the soil like the claws of a giant beast, and the ground beneath its trunk is blanketed in thick, soft moss. It’s quiet here and sheltered. That makes it perfect.

“We’ll stop here for the night,” I say.

Emily nods, her eyes still fixed on the lake like she doesn’t want to look away.

We quickly begin setting up camp for the night. While Emily starts gathering kindling for a fire, I turn my attention to finding something for us to eat. Something that isn’t trail rations.

Emily hasn’t complained, but I’ve seen the way she slowly eats her fill, as if she can barely stomach one more handful. We’ve both tired of trail rations.