Caldris slept peacefully beside me as I tossed off the covers, getting to my feet and padding silently from the bed chamber. The sitting area was separated by a narrow-arched doorway, my armor freshly washed and waiting for me. Xela had draped it over the back of a chair by the door, the scaled armor resplendent in the moonlight shining in through the open window.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I covered my breasts from view as I leaned forward to look outside. The land around the house was still, the air quiet as a contradiction to the way it felt like I was boiling from the inside. Nobody else seemed to feel it, seemed to notice the need to move.

I winced as I stepped back, my thoughts a chaotic array in my mind. “The Phlegathon calls you,” came Fenrir’s voice, his calm ease soothing my nerves that something had gone terribly, horribly wrong within the confines of my body.

“If this is how it calls to me, I don’t think I have any desire to answer.” The sarcastic tone was rich, even in my mind, coating the thought with my intent as Fenrir huffed in response. It was as close to a laugh as the wolf could come, a few rapid breaths to convey his amusement with me.

“The River of Fire,” he said, the words sinking deep into me with all the ominous nature of a prophecy I did not want to come to bear. “The call will be nothing compared to the pain of the river itself, Tempest.”

“Wonderful,” I snarked, closing the window in my mind to shut the wolf out. As much as I adored the reality of having companionship with me at all times, of having a wolf and a mate who could help me through my darkest moments, there was something to be said for silence as I dealt with the pain in my body.

I grimaced as I lifted my armor from the chair, stepping into the pants and then the top, doing my best to lace everything as tightly as possible without any assistance. I didn’t wish to wake Caldris so that he could watch me suffer, instead hoping that at least one of us could find the peace that came with a good night’s rest. As another surge of lava flooded my veins, I closed the window on our bond as well. The sill wouldn’t shut completely, leaving the window slightly ajar where the thread was determined to keep us linked. I had to hope it would be enough to dilute the emotions and the pain, keeping him blissfully unaware until morning came. While I needed to move because of the restless energy consuming me, I had no desire to leave him behind and make my way to the river in the danger of night.

I sat as I tugged my boots on, lacing them up my shins and then opened the door with a wave of my hand. It parted for me, brushed aside by the ease of magic that flowed from my fingers. The winter breeze that accompanied it reminded me of simpler times, of those too-brief days when I’d believed Caldris’s magic to be the only magic I possessed. It was a wistful memory in spite of the complicated emotions I’d felt back then, the difficulty I’d had in accepting his role in my life and the future that had been carved out for me.

The loss of my humanity had always been something I’d struggled with, from the very first day. I didn’t know how I would face the reality that the part of me I’d known for the majority of my life wasgone in truth. I didn’t know if it was possible to lose her any more than I already had.

I turned toward the field where we’d seen the warriors training when we arrived, ignoring the still ongoing party at the wood’s edge. The sound of revelry and dancing was more than enough to keep me away from the celebration on its own, but the knowledge of what those people had seen was inescapable.

I would face them the following morning, in the light of day when my desires didn’t feel so close to the surface. When the starlight didn’t reflect off my armor in the same way it had shone on my skin while Caldris fucked me for all to see.

A lone figure stood in the center of the field, moving through a series of well-practiced movements. He was careful and controlled, precise in a way I had never seen. He wore no shirt, the lines of muscle crawling up the sides of his spine flexing with each motion.

I paused at the side of the field, watching him go through the dance-like movements with rapt fixation. This was so far from the male I’d thought I’d come to know in life, the humorous jester who thought he was amusing even when he stood in my way.

Rheaghan’s head snapped to the side as he saw me watching him, his sword lowering to point toward the ground as the rest of his body turned to follow. “Shouldn’t you be at the celebrations?” he asked, quirking a single brow.

His mouth didn’t curve into the bright smile I knew, and that made me even sadder to admit. I’d been waiting for any trace of Rheaghan, searching for a mannerism that would make me believe he was still in there.

But he wasn’t. He was just a shell of the man who’d once lived, a body without the memories that made himhim.

“I’m not much for parties, I guess,” I said, taking a few steps toward him. He must have trusted my intentions after our moment earlier, nodding as if he understood that.

He glanced down at his sword, hefting it in his hands. That green-eyed stare that was so like mine didn’t rise back to meet me, and I felt deprived of it in the moments I waited. “Why is that?” he asked finally, running his thumb over the flat side of his blade.

I turned to stand beside him, staring out at the settlement he called home. He followed my stare, tensing when I didn’t give him my attention again. “It seems so foolish to celebrate like this,” I admitted, scoffing as I realized the truth in the words. I understoodwhy the others needed it, why they craved the light in the darkness, but the weight of the night surrounding me was too heavy to ignore for a few hours. “There’s so much pain out there. So much suffering, and I know it’s only a matter of time before it steals someone else from me. The more time I waste, the more I think I’ll lose in the end.”

The tension in Rheaghan’s body bled out, his muscles relaxing finally. He turned to face me, his entire body pivoting with the movement. Even though he kept his distance, I felt the intimacy of the moment, his eyes roving over my face as if he saw me for the first time.

“Then maybe you should grab a sword,” he said, gesturing to the table with weapons strewn on top of it.

I furrowed my brow as I turned to look at him, studying the tense lines of his face. “Why would I need a sword?”

“Because our time is much better spent training to survive what may come tomorrow, so that we stand a chance of protecting the people we love when the battle comes,” he said, watching as I nodded and took the first step toward the swords. I’d left my own in the cabin with Caldris, not intending for anything like this to occur. I hadn’t known what drove me to this place, what brought my legs here when I’d wanted to leave the settlement entirely and begin my journey to the Phlegathon. It would have been a foolish choice to leave on my own in the middle of the night though, and even I knew that.

I hefted one of the short swords into my hands, the others looking too long and heavy for me to wield properly. I tested it in my grip for a moment, weighing it before I sank my teeth into my bottom lip and placed it back with the others.

I spun to face Rheaghan, leaving the table at my back as he tilted his head to the side. “Are you afraid to fight me, Estrella Barlowe?” he asked, my name sounding too familiar and too strange on his lips. His mouth curved with the challenge he issued to me, the woman I assumed he knew he was meant to follow into battle.

“No,” I said, answering his smile with one of my own. “I am not afraid to fight you, Rheaghan. In fact, I don’t need a sword to beat you in this arena. Here and now, you with your sword and just me.” He couldn’t know that my intent in using my magic against him was to attempt to draw him into that place where instinct and muscle memory took over. If I could only remind him of what it looked like to fight with things that were unseen and misunderstood, then maybe I could remind him just a bit of the man he’d once been.

The man he would be again.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” he asked, the confusion onhis brow earning a grin from me. He had no recollection of the things he himself was capable of, no memory of what I could do.

I raised my chin, imagining that we were siblings who’d been gifted with the ability to know one another all our lives. Imagining everything we’d been deprived of as I smirked. “Unlessyou’rethe one who’s afraid.”

He smiled, shaking his head before lunging so quickly he thought to catch me off guard. I sidestepped his swing, letting it crash to the ground where I’d stood only a moment before. The speed of my movements surprised me, his shock mirroring what I felt as he spun in a slow circle to look at me.