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A single scream. A single pulse of energy. I sent a frequency through them that melted their minds from the inside out.

I shudder at the memory, the way their bodies crumpled, the blood pooling beneath them, the absolute silence that followed, and the horror in Ash and Zander’s eyes.

I push the thought away and quicken my pace, catching up to them as they trudge through the dense underbrush.

Ash shoots me a sidelong glance. “You good?”

“Fine,” I lie.

Zander doesn’t say anything, but his gaze lingers on me for a beat too long before he looks away.

I force myself to focus. Another mission. Another supply line to intercept. I can shove everything else down, at least until this is over.

The ambush happens fast.

The soldiers barely have time to react before we are on them, moving in perfect sync. Zander strikes first, his blade flashing as he takes down the nearest guard. Ash follows, using his gravity to send another soldier stumbling, just enough for me to land a precise, bone-snapping kick to his chest.

Steel clashes, fists connect, grunts of pain, and the crunch of impact fill the air. One soldier swings at me, but I duck, twisting behind him and sending a pulse of energy through his body. He drops like a stone.

Ash yanks a dagger from his belt and throws it, the blade sinking into the last enemy’s thigh. The soldier collapses with a cry, and Zander finishes him off with a swift strike to the head.

Silence follows. The three of us stand there, breathing hard, bodies tense, waiting for another wave that never comes.

Zander glances between us and smirks. “Good work.”

Ash dusts himself off, flashing his usual grin. “Yeah, yeah, teamwork makes the dream work or whatever. But let’s be real, I carried.”

I scoff. “You threw one dagger.”

Ash shrugs. “And it was a damn good throw.”

The days blur together in a cycle of ambush, retreat, and exhaustion. Each supply line we hit chips away at the enemy’s resources, but it also chips away at us. The bruises stack up, the cuts and scrapes accumulate, and sleep becomes a fleeting luxury rather than a necessity.

Still, we press on.

The fights start to feel easier. Not physically, we are still running ourselves ragged, but the rhythm of battle has become instinct. We move in unison without needing to speak, anticipating each other's next move, adapting as if we are one entity rather than three. Ash’s gravity, Zander’s precision, my power, together, we are nearly unstoppable.

And slowly, slowly, Oberon starts to take up less space in my mind.

I don’t know if I am ready to go back. If I even want to. Not knowing if he’ll be there, not knowing where we stand, it makes my chest ache in a way no battlefield wound ever has. I thought I found something steady in him, something solid, a place to belong.

Now? I’m not so sure.

Chapter thirty-nine

Is This It?

The final ambush of the night comes swiftly, our movements sharp, our strikes precise.

The scent of blood is already in the air, the moon casting jagged shadows over the battlefield. We move as one silent, efficient, lethal.

There is no need for words, only the unspoken trust forged in countless fights before this one.

I feel the vibrations first, subtle shifts in the ground, the nearly imperceptible ripple of weight shifting through the air. The enemy creeps closer, their formation tight, but their footfalls betray them. I reach out with my power, sending a pulse through the ground, feeling the way the sound bounces off armor, off weapons, off bodies moving through the darkness.

“There,” I murmur.

Ash reacts instantly. A flick of his wrist sends a ripple through the air, an unseen force pulling at the soldiers’ legs just as they step forward. They stumble, just enough to throw them off balance. It is all the opening we need.