Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Mal wrapped her arms tightly around herself as a shiver coursed through her.
The cold was from the dampness of her clothes after their impromptu plunge into the river.
She raised a hand, summoning her magic. The ground at her feet stirred, roots and tendrils bursting through the soil like eager servants.
They crawled up her legs, brushing her arms, and began pulling the water from her skin.
The droplets glistened on the surface of the roots before sinking into the earth like greedy sips of nourishment.
She turned to Phillip. He stood motionless, his gaze fixed on the looming castle in the distance. His broad shoulders were soaked, his tunic clinging to his chest. The roots obeyed her silent command, slithering toward him.
He didn't move. Didn't turn to her in thanks. His solemn gaze stayed fixed on the castle. His features were shadowed with sorrow, not rage.
The castle's silhouette rose against the darkening sky, jagged and foreboding. The sight ignited something hot in her chest. Anger. The thirst for retribution. Blood for blood.
“If you still think Aurora deserves your sympathy—"
“No,” Phillip cut her off. “Aurora can’t come back from this. Not after what she tried to do to you. For that alone, she’s lost the right to my mercy.”
Mal’s anger didn’t fade, but his words softened the sharpest edges of it. “Then what’s that look for?”
“The majority of my troops are still at the borderlands. The men behind those castle walls aren’t mine—they’re hers. It’s her army we’ll face. They outnumber the forest folk.”
“They do not. We have every blade of grass on our side. The trees, the roots, the very ground beneath their feet will rise up against them.”
Phillip reached out, brushing a hand against her shoulder. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through her, but not from the cold this time. “Mal, they’re men like me. Some of them don’t know what they’re fighting for. They’re just following orders.”
“And if we don’t fight back? If we show mercy to those who would trample the forest and destroy everything we stand for?”
"This goes beyond taking a stand. This is war. Wars have casualties—your people... my people. This isn't what our parents planned. This isn't what either of us wanted."
There he was wrong. Many nights during the dark three years of his absence, Mal had wanted nothing but to watch the castle burn. She hadn't taken a care of who might be within the walls. She just knew Phillip wasn't within them.
"Whether we want it or not, Aurora will send those soldiers to this forest and burn it to the ground. I won’t sit back and watch her destroy everything I hold dear."
The moon had barely crested over the horizon, casting a cold, gray light over the forest as Mal and Phillip stood on the ridge overlooking the clearing where Aurora’s machines lay dormant.
She could already see the dark shapes of soldiers marching toward the metal beasts, their swords and armor glinting in the moonlight.
More were coming, their numbers stretching far back, a steady line of shadows in the distance.
"Let me try and talk to them, soldier to soldier."
“They’ll listen to her first. They’re loyal to her, not to you.”
“They’re still human,” Phillip replied. “Maybe—maybe there’s a chance I can appeal to that part of them.”
Mal took a breath, forcing herself to hold her tongue.
Her prince was driven by a hope she no longer shared, a faith she had lost long ago.
The men before them had crossed into the forest without regard, marching with machines meant to tear down the trees and flora she’d spent her life protecting.
These men, they were not her allies. Even if Phillip couldn’t see that, she could.
Phillip reached for her, his hand warm against her cheek. “I have to try, Mal. You rally the fae and the flora. Buy me some time.”
She wanted to forbid him. Though they had their bedroom games, and Phillip never quipped about walking a step behind her—mainly so he got a look at her ass—they were always equals when in front of others. The entire forest was watching them now.
Mal's throat tightened as her heart fought against the surge of emotions that threatened to drown her. She knew him too well, knew the stubborn streak that drove him to fight battles that seemed impossible. She loved him all the more for it.
“If you die, I will kill you.” Her words were laced with a desperation she couldn’t hide.
Phillip’s mouth curved into a grin, the kind that reached his eyes and sent warmth pooling in her chest. He leaned down, brushing his lips over hers. “I love you, too. And I promise I’ll be back. I don’t break my promises to you.”
“Except for the time you said you’d see me tomorrow…three years ago. And last night, when you sent a pigeon.”
“No more pigeons. I’ll come back for you. I’ll fight by your side if I can't bring them to reason.”
The weight of the moment settled over her like a cloak.
Her hand itched to pull him back, to hold him close and keep him from walking into whatever danger awaited him.
But she couldn’t. She knew she couldn’t.
He was, by all rights, a king. She was queen of her own land.
Their destinies were intertwined, but their paths were distinct.
Slowly, reluctantly, she released her hold on him, watching as he turned and strode down the ridge.
His figure disappeared into the mist that blanketed the clearing.
She stood there, rooted in place, her heart lodged painfully in her chest, her fists clenched at her sides.
Every fiber of her being yearned to call him back.
She didn’t. Instead, she raised her chin, squared her shoulders, and turned back to her people. They awaited her command, their eyes filled with the same grim resolve she felt in her own heart.
“Prepare yourselves. On this night, we protect our land. We fight for our home.”