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I didn't reply. I didn't know what to say. I hadn't expected any of this. But sadly, it made so, so much sense. There was no better way to rule over people than to make them feel divided and alone. To make them feel as if the whole world was against them and keep them fearful and resentful of everyone around them. It was how The Mother ran the cult I was raised in. It worked well.

"And setting all that aside," Yukio continued, his voice less bitter, but infinitely more tired. "Do you have any idea how big the fae preserve is?"

I shook my head.

"Ruya, this place is massive. Miles across. And that's just taking into account its presence in this one physical reality. Wild fae can warp time and space and perception… they can stretch and contract things, create pockets of alternate reality much like mini versions of the sorcerers' pocket worlds. There are reasons for the fairy tales the humans tell—of being kidnapped, of falling asleep and waking up hundreds of years later to a changed world. We could wander lost here the rest of our lives and never find our way back home. We're trapped here for as long as they like."

And it's all my fault, his tone said. He didn't have to speak the words aloud for me to know he blamed himself for our current predicament.

"You saved our lives," I said firmly, lifting my chin and glaring in what I thought was his direction. I was not going to let him wallow in self-pity or take responsibility for failings that didn't exist. "You've done nothing wrong, Yukio. You risked your own life to get us both out of there. You're the only reason we aren't either dead or captives of the syndicate. Thank you."

He huffed. "Fine. Whatever. But it's still snowing, and we're stuck in the middle of a fae hellscape."

I swallowed down the fear that wanted to rise up inside me. And my worry over the others. They were strong. They were capable. And they had Robin leading them. I fully believed she could talk, charm, or murder her way out of any situation. "What do you suggest?" I asked evenly.

Yukio moved about for a moment, then returned to put my discarded gloves back on my hands. His motions were rough and no-nonsense. But I noticed he wasn't content to simply hand me the gloves.

Yukio wasn't a beta. He fed us all because he stress baked, not because he had some innate need to care for us, the way the betas did. And he wasn't an alpha, to fuss over someone because he felt it was his duty. No, this gamma before me was simply fussing over me in his own gruff way because no matter how it seemed sometimes, he really did care.

"Now," he bit out. "We pick a direction and walk until we're too cold to keep going. Then we hope I have enough magic left to do something about heat and we both have enough energy left to scrape together some sort of shelter. It's that or stand here waiting for the elements or our unwilling hosts to kill us."

I wiggled my fingers to get my gloves settled comfortably, then reached for him. "Lead on, oh wise and benevolent winter sprite."

He made sure my aim was off, stepping away so I gripped empty air. "Never call me a sprite again. I am not some disgusting fictional character in a human fairytale."

I just smirked, using humor to drown out the panic and worry inside me. "Are you sure? I have it on very good authority that you sparkle sometimes, my sweet little pixie."

He growled. "I will leave you here as a present to my distant kin."

Grinning, I held out both hands and made grabby hands. "No, you won't. You like me too much to abandon me. And besides, Robin and the others would murder you if you left me behind."

He sighed as if it killed him to admit that I was right. Then his hand found mine, and he pulled my arm through his. "I suppose this will go faster if I don't have to wait for you to bumble your way through the woods."

"Very true," I said with a sense of levity that I didn't quite feel, but that we both needed.

"I can't be sure it's correct," he told me, his voice free of teasing and snark for the moment. "But I'll use what little magic I have to feel for the edges of this place and at least lead us out of the preserve, if not back to where the original portal to the pocket world is."

I patted his arm. "I trust you to do the best you can. And Yukio?"

"Hmm?"

"If it doesn't work… if you can't find a way out—you'll still have done your best, okay? This is not all on you."

He snorted at me in reply, obviously not agreeing. Or just embarrassed by my insistence on coddling him. "Walk, witch," he said, setting off and tugging me along with him.

I leaned into the faint connection between us, letting my aura brush against his cool fae magic, taking strength from the fact that no matter what happened, at least I wasn't alone. Neither of us were alone.

Chapter 9

Robin

Ridiculous. This whole fucking fiasco was completely and utterly absurd.

Things might not always go to plan, but usually I was able to handle any changes with much more foresight and grace. This was my life. It was what I lived for, for fuck's sake. And yet, here we were. The emperor knew we were coming and ran away like a coward. The houseful of adoring supporters and employees turned out to be nothing but cowering slaves. And my fucking birthright seemed both closer and further away than ever.

The headache was back, and it pounded through my skull like a team of yeti wielding icepicks. I could smell my magic. Literally taste it in the air here, burnt, tainted remnants of me that the emperor used to run his disgusting little empire. But it was gone. The gemstone containing the birthright my parents had carefully sealed away out of love and caution was gone, and the need to rage, and rend, and burn everything in my sight beat against my soul like the echoes of a war drum.

I knew it wouldn't be so ridiculously easy. I wasn't a fool. But I had certainly hoped. And hope was a dangerous emotion. It had the greatest potential to lay you low and rob you of your power when it failed.

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