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C asimir could sense her presence behind him as they walked toward Mosshaven. The fear and anger emanated from her as he felt her eyes boring into his back, likely unhappy about being a prisoner yet again. But they couldn’t be too careful. Not when they didn’t know her.

He was surprised to come across the human they had been hearing about, assuming she was still a prisoner of the daemon army. But when Percy had spotted her close by in the woods, he’d told Jorrar and the three of them had brought her back immediately.

He tried to recall what the ancient texts had said about humans and other realms. He had hated his history lessons as a boy, much preferring the thrill of fighting and learning the art of the sword.

His tutor would chastise him for getting distracted as he sword-fought with his pencil instead of completing his assignments.

Now at over one hundred years old, he barely remembered any of his lessons. All he knew was despite the lingering armies of the daemon queen and her lover, his kingdom had remained safe. Protected by the surrounding mountains, massive trees, rivers and their powerful earth magic.

He was a boy during the first wars when Deidamia had rallied her army and entered their world through the portal created by a power-hungry king.

Those wars had taken his family from him, leaving him alone in the world and fighting for the freedom they had so longed for.

That ancient king was long dead, but not forgotten, as Casimir’s kingdom had cursed his name and warned all who lived there about the dangers of craving power, using the old king as an example to stay away from portal magic.

A dangerous, risky magic that was rare and hadn’t been seen in decades.

Now some human woman had somehow led them back from wherever they had been banished to, single-handedly responsible for the potential demise of their whole world and he was furious.

He still didn’t know how she fit in the picture. Her role in this war.

Perhaps she was a spy.

A part of him had wanted to kill her on the spot, if only to protect his kingdom, but not before talking to his king. He knew Thorne would want to interrogate her and seek answers on how to defeat Deidamia once and for all.

Had she opened the portal herself? Or had they somehow figured out how to do it and dragged her along? It was impossible. Humans didn’t have magic. Weak, mortal beings with little strength and short lifespans, but he had to admit her presence unnerved him. Made him wary.

He looked over to Raine, walking next to him, holding the woman’s rope. “What do you think about this?”

Raine whispered back quietly so the human couldn’t hear. “Something doesn’t feel right,” he said. “I sense there is more to the story than a naive woman suddenly appearing here with Deidamia.”

Casimir nodded his agreement. “Do you think she is in league with them?”

“No. I could sense her fear when she fought against me. There was no ill-intent, just terror. She kept screaming about not going back. She thought we were part of Deidamia’s army.”

“She stabbed you in the leg.”

“It’s already basically healed.” Raine shrugged. “Besides, she isn’t that strong. The dagger didn’t go deep.”

Casimir sighed. He had noticed her injuries, painful even for an immortal. The way her eyes darted around and how her hands trembled though she tried to hide it. How she regarded him with suspicion, attempting to stifle her flinch at his approach. Her limp and the bruises on her body.

They continued their trek throughout the day, briefly stopping for food and water which Casimir allowed Jorrar to give their prisoner.

Even though his benevolence often frustrated Casimir, he respected and even loved him for it.

Raine was also that way; always laughing and up for new friendships.

It was up to Casimir to remain wary and watch the woman, though something in him whispered that she wouldn’t hurt them.

That his world was about to be transformed by her sudden arrival.

They had finally stopped to make camp and Ava’s legs were heavy from trying to keep pace with the fae warriors.

Not even pretending to slow for her sake, she had to jog at times to avoid falling from the tug of the rope.

They’d told her they still had several days left in their journey and she was unsure if her legs would even make it.

“Sit down,” Casimir said gruffly as he pointed to a tree next to camp .

She obeyed, relieved to be allowed to rest, and leaned her back against the tree.

He took the rope from Jorrar and tied it to the tree with a complicated knot she knew she’d never be able to undo.

There was enough slack for her to put her hands in her lap but not much more, wrists bound together so tightly the rope was starting to chafe.

Her body ached and exhaustion made itself known from days of hiking through the forest.

“I’ll remove your gag but don’t think I won’t immediately put it back should I deem it necessary,” Casimir stated, standing over her. “Understood?” She nodded and he leaned down to untie the fabric. Standing up again, he asked, “Where did you get that dagger? The one you stabbed my captain with.”

“Someone gave it to me.”

“That’s a daemon weapon.” He looked at her accusingly.

“Okay.” She shrugged. “Like I said, someone gave it to me. They probably stole it from one of the soldiers or something.”

“Don’t cause trouble again. You’re lucky you stabbed the nice one.”

“You call kidnapping me nice?” she retorted, irritation flaring.

He knelt again, face to face with her. “You wouldn’t have liked what would have happened had I been the one you stabbed.”

Asshole , she thought.

Turning on his heel, Casimir walked over to Raine and Quinn, having a hushed conversation as they set up the tents.

They had chosen a small clearing for their camp, surrounded by towering trees with vivid green leaves and bark that was mottled black and gray.

A number of the plants and animals in Eorhan looked similar to some of those back home, yet they were more vibrant and teemed with magic that Ava could sense, even in her human body.

The clearing was full of soft grasses interspersed with minuscule white flowers, like tiny brilliant pearls .

Ava had been paying close attention to the warriors all day, noting each of their behaviors and the hierarchy of the group. The other three looked up to Casimir and he was a focused leader, almost never cracking a smile and always alert for danger.

Jorrar was the most generous, offering her water and food when they rested. According to Casimir, Raine was nice as well. Though she had yet to see it.

“Those are some painful looking injuries,” Jorrar said as he approached and sat down on the ground across from her.

She didn’t respond.

“Who did that to you?” he asked.

“Who do you think?”

“What’s your name?”

She realized no one had asked her yet and didn’t see the point in lying. They didn’t know who she was anyway. “Ava.”

“What a beautiful name. Well, Ava,” he said. “Why were you lurking in the woods near our camp? Did you really kill that helwraith?”

She sighed, trying to decide how much to reveal. “I wasn’t lurking. I was trying to find somewhere safe. I was told to follow the bright blue star. I didn’t know there was anyone around. And yes… I killed that creature. That helwraith. What was it?”

Jorrar frowned when she mentioned the star. “Someone told you the star would lead you to safety?”

“Yes.”

He assessed her for a long time before speaking again. “It’s risky to be in those woods at night time. A lot of foul creatures live there, as you noticed. Helwraiths were brought over with Deidamia from her world. They’re her assassins. And I have reason to believe it was stalking you,” he said.

So they’d been hunting her after all.

“Why were you being tortured by Deidamia?” he asked .

Dangerous. This felt like a dangerous question. One she shouldn’t answer. Not yet.

“I never said I was tortured,” she said instead of answering.

“We recognize the signs. Your injuries, the small limp you try to hide. Your fear when you were found. We can sense it; can tell you’re afraid you will be hurt again.”

She quietly looked at him, then nodded.

“Why didn’t they kill you? How long were you there?”

“I don’t know,” she said.

She could tell he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t push.

“Very well,” he said, and rose to help the others prepare dinner.

As he was about to walk away, she asked, “What are you going to do with me?”

“That depends on you,” Jorrar said, turning to look down at her. “The king will have many questions and if you are deemed a threat, possibly execution.” His eyes briefly softened before he turned back and joined his friends.

Execution?

The panic set back in. Of course she wasn’t a threat.

She couldn’t fight, wasn’t strong and had no idea where she was.

But what if the king had her killed for opening the portal?

She was a liability if she could open more and if Deidamia found her again, it would put their whole world in even more danger.

She leaned against the tree, watching the group as Jorrar cooked over the fire.

It smelled amazing, and her stomach growled in response.

She hadn’t had anything but apples, dried meat, bread and cheese in days and no real food in weeks.

The other three sat and watched him quietly, always making sure one of them had an eye on her.

When dinner was done cooking, Jorrar brought her a wooden bowl and spoon filled with a hearty stew. She thanked him and ate as best she could while her hands were still bound together .