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“Sir,” Hayes breathed beside me, his hand already dropping to his weapon. “Is that the fugitive? The child?”

“Yes,” I said quietly. My hand moved to my sword hilt.

Around us, my men's attention sharpened. Weapons lifted fractionally. The captured sentries struggled against their bonds, trying desperately to warn their people.

This was it. The moment everything changed.

I could give the order. My men would attack. The Weavers would try to defend themselves and fail. Lily would be captured or killed. My father would be proud. My position would be secure

And I would become the monster my mother had died trying to stop.

“Captain?” Hayes prompted. “Your orders?”

I drew my sword. The familiar weight offered no comfort. Only cold certainty of what I was about to do.

“Release the prisoners,” I said quietly.

Hayes blinked. “Sir?”

“I said release them.” I turned to face the men holding the captured sentries directly. “Let them go. Now.”

“Captain, I don't understand—” Davies started.

“Do it.” I turned to face my men fully, my sword still drawn but pointed at the ground. “And lower your weapons. All of you.”

Confusion rippled through the group. Thomson looked between me and Hayes, uncertain. Morrison stepped forward from his position, his weathered face creased with concern.

“August,” he said carefully, using my name instead of my rank. “What's going on, lad?”

The captured sentries were staring at me now, their fear mixed with desperate hope. Waiting to see if this was a trick or a miracle.

I met Morrison's eyes—the man who'd trained me, who'd been like a father to me. “Lower your weapons. We're not attacking this camp.”

“But the Unraveler's orders⁠—”

“The Unraveler's orders are to murder innocent people,” I interrupted. “Women and children who've committed no crime except being born with magic in their blood. The same magic my mother possessed.”

The words fell like stones into still water. Complete silence.

“Traitor!” Hayes screamed, swinging his revolver toward me.

The freed sentries bolted—running for the camp, finally able to shout the warning. “Hunters! Hunters in the woods!”

The camp exploded. Weavers scattered, magic erupting like wildfire.

And Lily's head snapped up. Even from this distance, I saw the moment she recognized me. Saw the betrayal flash across her face as she realized I'd led hunters directly to them.

“You've betrayed us!” Hayes fired.

I dove left as magic erupted from the camp—invisible filaments snapping tight around Davies, yanking him off his feet. Another hunter screamed as his rifle was ripped from his hands by magic he couldn't see.

“All of you, lower your weapons!” I roared at my men. “That's an order!”

But it was too late. The battle had started.

Thomson charged forward, blade raised—and went down hard as magic took out his legs. Morrison fired toward the camp, but his bullet sparked harmlessly off a shield of woven light.

And Hayes—God damn him—Hayes swung his revolver toward Lily.