Chapter 22
AURORA
As we walk through the forest, dark memories fill my thoughts. I think of Fiora, Lyria, and Maribel… of Thalric’s parents and the brave knights who fought to defend me against the Ogres.
The terrible images surface in my mind, but I push them back down. If I let myself keep picturing the battle too clearly, I’ll fall apart.
Closing my eyes, I send a silent prayer to the gods that they didn’t all perish in the fight. Drawing in a deep breath, I force myself to shove down my worry, burying it beneath the rhythm of my steps as we continue through the woods.
“If we make good time, we should reach the capital in two days,” Thalric says, pulling me back from my thoughts.
“Do you think it’s safe to go there?” I ask. “I mean… the Goblin witch—Malvara—is searching for me. Won’t she realize that’s where I’ll be heading?”
“We don’t have a choice.” Thalric doesn’t break stride, his gaze fixed on the narrow trail ahead. “She’ll search for you wherever you go. You’ll be safer at the castle, surrounded by the elite guards—the Protectors of the Realm.”
Safe. Nothing feels safe anymore.
“Why would it be safe now when it wasn’t when I was a child?” The words slip out before I can stop them, sharp with the ache that’s been gnawing at me ever since I learned who I truly am.
Thalric slows, his wings shifting as if the question weighs heavily on him.
“Because hiding worked… until now.” His voice is low, steady, but I hear the strain beneath it.
“With a decoy in place at the Temple of Amara, the Goblin witch spent all these years trying to breach their wards to end you. Somehow, she discovered the truth—that you were never at the temple; you’ve been in hiding all along. ”
He turns to me. “Now that she knows this, she’s hunting you.
Your nightmares, Lyria’s visions… they were proof she was closing in on your location.
If we stayed in Oakvale, she’d find you.
The guardians knew it and so did my father.
That’s why they sent for the Briarwyn knights to escort you back home.
“Fiora was worried because the curse is looming now, and the prophecy is clear. She believed having you wed to Prince Ryllen as soon as possible would be another layer of protection.”
Thalric’s tail curls around my waist as he speaks the prince’s name and despite the danger we’re in, hope sparks in my chest. It seems he’s having as much trouble with the idea of letting me go as I am at the thought of having to wed a stranger instead of him.
“Why wouldn’t Malvara have simply targeted Ryllen, then?” I ask.
“Because she doesn’t know of him. Your betrothal has been kept secret all these years.”
“Do you believe the castle is safe?”
“The palace has wards woven into its very stones. And the Protectors of the Realm will be there—dozens of warriors trained since birth to guard the crown. Against Malvara, against her creatures… against anyone.”
His gaze hardens. “It’s not perfect. But it’s stronger than the cottage and the village.
Hiding worked when the witch was distracted by a decoy.
Now, the only safety left is behind walls built to withstand her.
That’s why she sent her Ogres to attack us.
She knows that once you reach the capital, it will be that much harder for her to harm you. ”
His words sink in like cold water. I want to believe him. I want to believe there’s a place where her shadow cannot reach me.
But nothing feels safe anymore.
“How do you know the Ogres were sent by her?”
“I recognized her mark.” His jaw tightens. “The Ogres wore her symbol on their armor—a green flame. My parents and the guards taught me to watch for it, before we left Oakvale.”
A shiver ripples down my spine. I start to ask another question, but my slippers catch on a root, and I bite back a wince as the raw blisters on my heels become aggravated even more.
Gods, my feet burn. But I can’t let Thalric know; he’ll insist upon carrying me. And he’s only just begun to heal from his own wounds, and I won’t weigh him down further.
Except of course, he notices. He always does. “You’re limping.”
“I’m fine.”
His gaze cuts to me, molten and sharp, and my stomach dips. He knows me too well. He knows when I’m lying.
Before I can protest again, he sweeps me up as if I weigh nothing and sets me on a fallen log. His huge frame lowers, wings folding tight as he kneels before me. “Show me.”
I cross my arms. “I said I’m fine.”
He arches a brow, unamused.
I huff out a breath. “Fine.”
He takes my foot gently in his clawed hand, turning it so the tattered slipper slides free. Cool air stings the raw skin, and I bite back a hiss. He frowns as he studies the damage. “Such strange, dainty feet,” he murmurs.
My mouth falls open. “Strange? They’re perfectly normal, thank you very much.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Three toes would be more practical.”
“Maybe for you.” I sniff, though my cheeks heat as his thumb brushes carefully along the curve of my arch.
For one glorious moment, the heavy fear between us lifts, replaced by teasing warmth. Then he exhales, sliding my slipper back on. “You’ll need better shoes.”
He scoops me up again, and I squeak, clutching at his shoulders. “I can walk!”
“Not like this.” His chest rumbles beneath my palms. His arms feel impossibly strong, and gods help me, I love the way it feels to be carried like I’m something precious.
After a few hours, we stumble upon a lonely farmstead hidden in a clearing. Thalric carefully sets in the brush, his gaze fierce. “Stay hidden. Don’t make a sound.”
“Why? What are you—”
But he’s already gone, melting into the shadows. My pulse hammers as I watch from the trees, holding my breath while he disappears into the barn. Seconds stretch into an eternity. I picture a farmer stepping out, a crossbow raised, Thalric caught—
Then he’s back, a pair of boots in his hand.
I glare at him as he sweeps me up again, carrying me swiftly away. “You stole those,” I hiss.
“They weren’t stolen. I left gold,” he replies calmly. “A trade.”
“More like a forced trade,” I mutter, but my heart thrums with relief that he’s safe all the same.
When we stop, he kneels again, slipping the sturdy boots onto my feet himself. They’re a little big, but warm and thick. My gaze drifts to my ruined slippers lying in the dirt, and my throat tightens. Fiora gave them to me.
“Do you think they’re all right?” The words tumble out before I can stop them. “Fiora, Lyria, Maribel… your parents, the knights…”
Thalric lowers his gaze. “I saw them still fighting when I carried you away. The Ogres’ numbers were overwhelming, but maybe—” His voice trails off.
I swallow hard. The silence between us says everything words cannot.
“We have to believe they’re alive,” I whisper fiercely, even as fear claws at my chest. If I allow myself to believe otherwise, I’ll break down, and we cannot afford that right now.
He inclines his head, but the heaviness in his eyes betrays his doubt.
By nightfall we find shelter near a stream, far enough from the road to remain unseen. The air is cool and damp with mist, and I shiver slightly.
Thalric gives me a worried look. “We cannot build a fire,” he murmurs. “It would draw attention to us.” He pulls me into his lap and folds his arms and wings around me, like a wall of warmth and stone.
I burrow against him, my cheek pressed to the solid wall of his chest. His heart beats steadily beneath my palm, strong and sure. How can he not love me still when he holds me like this? When he cares so fiercely?
Sadness tightens my chest as I think of simpler times. I dreamed of going to the capital with Thalric. But now… I would give anything for us to be back in Oakvale, before I learned the truth of who I am.
Tears sting my eyes. I try to blink them back, but it’s no use. The first one escapes my lashes and rolls down my cheek.
Thalric brushes it away with his thumb, gazing at me in concern. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to go to the capital.” My voice cracks. “I don’t want to be a princess.”
“I know it all seems scary right now,” he whispers as he tightens his arms around me, nuzzling my temple. “But try to think of the good, Auri. You’ll get to meet your parents, after wondering about them all your life.”
“How could they just let me go?” I ask bitterly. “How could they send me away?”
His golden eyes meet mine, full of sadness. “Sometimes the greatest act of love… is letting go.”
The words slice through me like glass, and I wonder if he speaks only of my parents. Or if he is speaking of me… of us.
I want to ask. Gods, I want to. But I’m afraid. The pain of his rejection is still too raw, and I can’t bear the thought of hearing him say again that we cannot be.
So instead, I curl tighter into his arms and pretend for tonight that we still have the future we dreamed of. That Fiora and the others are alive. That his parents are safe.
That tomorrow won’t steal him from me.
I press my face into his chest and pray to the gods that somehow, it will be true.