Killian saw me let the shifter go. The realisation hits me like a tonne of bricks, sending my heart to my stomach. I can't look away from him, my hands quivering at my sides. The late nights in the forge searching for the deserters. The midnight trainings with Casimir. The aching bones, heart, mind.

It was all for nothing.

I could've killed him. One inch tilted upwards; my dagger would've punctured his heart.

But I wasn't thinking about Trina. I wasn't thinking about Casimir, or my father, and I certainly wasn't thinking about the fact that Killian was right behind me. I was thinking of Samu. I was thinking about how they had the same eyes, how the shifter looked just as afraid as I felt.

What have I done?

"Where's Tetterman's son?" Jessenia demands, growing impatient.

"I—" The words choke in my throat. I stare at the ground, at my bloodied hands, anywhere but her face. Because when they find out the truth, that I let him go, Trina will never trust me. She'll never let me join them.

I'll never find Samu.

"He's dead." Killian's voice silences the pounding in my ears. My eyes dart to his. His lips press together in a firm line, eyes drawing to my bloodied hands. "Freya killed him."

"The body?" Jax asks.

"I took care of it."

Jax nods in approval before looking at me kneeling on the forest floor. "Get up," he orders. "We have to get back."

I force myself to my feet, tucking my bloodied dagger back in the sheath. I try to wipe the blood off my hands but it's dried in the crevices of my palms, a visual reminder. You failed.

Jax shoves past me, Coax and Jessenia on his tail.

I wrap an arm across my chest, turning to stare at Killian still standing on the other side of the clearing. He steps towards me, eyes raking across my face. My breath still comes in short, sharp gasps as he reaches me.

"You cut his throat." His tone is flat as his gaze traces my neck. "He tried to choke you. He clawed you. But you killed him, dagger to the throat, and I disposed of the body. Do you understand?"

I follow his gaze to my wrist. My blood seeps through the crescent moon shapes, prickling at the broken skin. Killian's fingers brush beneath my chin, guiding my gaze to his.

"Freya," he says, low. I open my mouth, but no words come out. "Do you understand?"

I manage to nod.

He drops my chin and takes a step back, eyes holding mine. He nods me forward, waiting until I turn around and follow after Jax and Jessenia, who haven't bothered to wait for us. And as I walk, I try to sort through the thoughts racing through my mind.

Killian Li is many things—a deserter, arrogant, handsome, painfully perceptive. But for the first time since I met him, I begin to wonder if I completely misjudged him. Because even though I still don't know that much about him, there's one thing I'm certain—Killian Li said he'd protect me. And he did.

#

Jax doesn't blindfold me on the way back. But before we know it, we're back at the underground entrance. I was too distracted the entire walk to even notice where we were headed. I can't repress what happened—there are reminders in the red staining my hands, on the ache in my throat and stinging of my wrists.

Reminders of what I didn't do.

I'd been so prepared to kill, so confident that it would be easy for me. But that shifter looked no different to me—it didn't look like the wolves in my dreams, and all I can wonder is why?

Why didn't it shift to protect itself?

The sky has transitioned from black to navy, bird songs bouncing off the trees as the night gives way to the rising sun. Jessenia descends first, then Jax sends Coax down, who pales at the thought but pushes on regardless. I can feel his gaze on me, probably wondering who I am, why I don't seem to fit in, but he says nothing. His gaze is less hostile than Jax's, at least.

Jax gestures for me to go next. I take a shaky breath before descending the ladder, cringing at the way the dried blood cracks in the crevices of my hands as I grip the rungs. Once I reach the bottom, we continue through the narrow halls. But before we can reach Trina's office, Casimir bombards us in the narrow passageway, his eyes searching for mine.

He marches towards us, grabbing my shoulders, raking his eyes across my frame. His expression is blank, but I can read him like a book. The pinched brows, pursed lips—it's the same look he'd give me whenever I skipped class.

He surprises me by pulling me into a bone-crushing hug, burying his face in my hair. "I'm so glad you're okay," he murmurs.

I sink into his hold, the fragile foundation holding me together crumbling the moment Casimir holds me close. My eyes close to keep tears from falling and I grip his shirt, breathing in his scent. Even in his deserter clothes he smells like home.

"Never do that to me again." He pulls away, hands still on my shoulders as he looks past me, expression souring at the sight of Killian. "You—"

"Don't, Cas," I murmur. "Please."

He presses his lips together, still glaring at Killian as the sheet is brushed to the side and Trina steps in. Her grey hair has been pulled backwards, and even though she's Casimir's mother, he pushes me slightly behind him, as if he's afraid she'll hurt me.

I squeeze his hand as she steps closer, mouth in a straight line. I haven't seen my reflection since we returned, but she examines me closely, taking in the blood-stained clothes and hands and whatever marks the shifters left on my body.

"Is it done?"

Killian's voice echoes in my mind, the feel of his calloused fingers against my chin.

"It's done," I say quietly.

There's a beat of silence as she regards me, gaze unwavering as she waits for a crack in my composure. I keep my expression neutral as she looks to Killian, who nods in confirmation. I let out a shaky breath of relief.

Trina nods, keeping her lips pressed in a straight line. "I must say, you've surprised me. I didn't think you had it in you."

Shame burns throughout me. She saw me as weak, and even though she doesn't know it, I've proven her right.

"We should expect retaliation from Tetterman, likely upon the residents of Veymaw," she says, looking to Killian, then Casimir. "Keep an eye out."

Killian offers a curt nod. I find myself staring at him from behind Casimir, noting the way his mood immediately shifts around others. When it's just us, he's more playful, that dimple denting his cheek. But when we're around the other deserters, I barely recognise the stern expression that rests on his face. But whether we're alone or with the deserters, there's one thing that remains constant, and it can't hide behind his charming smiles—he has the ability to be very, very lethal.

"The moon festival is this evening," Casimir says. "The villagers will be more vulnerable."

"I'll be sure to station spotters around the village perimeter, just in case," Trina promises.

I'd forgotten about the moon festival. The entire village gathers in the marketplace, the band plays music. There's dancing, food, social festivities as the sun descends and the moon takes its place, the night before it bleeds red. In the past, it's been an enjoyable evening, a last farewell to the summer and night of fun before the shifters prowl the village the night following.

But now, the memory is bittersweet. I danced with my father at the moon festival last year. It had still been warm, and Samu, Casimir and I escaped the festivities to swim in the lake under the sparkling stars. When I close my eyes, I can hear his laughs, feel the soft caress of my father's hand on my shoulder. It's the last happy memory I have of them.

"Hey." Casimir squeezes my shoulder, his eyebrows pulling together. "You okay?"

I swallow, feeling the stares of everyone in the room, and nod. I step forward from behind Casimir, meeting Trina's eye. "And me?" I ask.

"What about you?"

"I did what you asked." I hold her gaze. "I killed the shifter."

"Indeed." Her gaze gives away nothing, expression a mask of secrets. She continues to stare at me, and it takes everything in me not to avert my gaze. "You may go home for the time being."

Relief floods through my body. "And what about Samu?

"Who?"

"My brother. Will you help me find him?"

Trina smiles, but it isn't at all warm. She raises a hand to inspect her palm as if this conversation is boring her. "It seems there has been a miscommunication of what our agreement entails."

I look at Casimir, but he looks just as confused as I feel. "We had a deal."

"Our deal never involved the deserters finding your brother."

I blink at her, speechless. Casimir opens his mouth. "Trina—"

"The Red Moon is in two nights, son," she says sharply. "As per our deal, Freya will not hide. She will wait until the shifters prowl around her and then she will announce herself."

Casimir steps forward. "They could hurt her—"

"Whatever happens from there will determine whether or not you have a chance to find your brother," Trina continues, acting as if Casimir hasn't even spoken.

I shudder. "You mean whether or not they decide to kill me or take me."

My words settle like dust, resting in the tense silence. The weight of them hangs heavy over my head. I haven't had much time to think about the deal I made with Trina, but to say it aloud makes my hands tremble.

"Once you're in, you'll have three days to find your brother," Trina says.

"Why? What're you planning after that?"

"That is none of your concern. All you need to know is that once you're in, you will have three days to find your brother and get out."

"Or what?"

"Or things won't be pretty. For you or your brother."

I swallow, glancing at Killian. As suspected, his expression is neutral.

"Aren't you the least bit interested in why they took him in the first place?" I ask Trina.

"I'm more interested in taking the shifters down, one by one. Starting with those royals."

"This plan is weak," Casimir says, glaring at his mother.

"We don't have any other choice, Casimir. Time is running out. Reports from Portson claim an increase in shifters migrating from Torinne. Soon, we'll be overrun. We have to find our way into the Palace grounds, and this is the most promising option."

"Shifters are coming from Torrine?" I ask. "Why?"

We don't hear much from the bordering countries. Torinne is the closest, but even then, I've never met anybody who has been there. Unless you're a trader, you're not permitted to cross the Ventcier sea that leads to Torinne. And since the war, relations haven't exactly been amicable between the two countries.

Trina exchanges a glance with Killian, something flashing across her face. She hadn't meant to say that in front of me, and as I expect, she ignores my question, looking back to Casimir. "Freya has already agreed to my terms."

Casimir's harsh gaze shoots to me. "You can't do this, Frey."

"I don't have any other choice."

He shakes his head. "It's too risky."

"We will be there every step of the way." Killian steps forward, meeting Casimir's gaze. "If it looks as though they're going to kill her, we can intervene."

Casimir scoffs. "You think you'd be able to stop them? If they decide to kill Freya, she'll be dead before you can take a step forward."

Killian's gaze doesn't waver, nor does the confident streak in his eye. "We won't let that happen."

Casimir purses his lips but says nothing.

My mind flashes back to what happened in the forest, the way Killian threw the shifter off me before it could strangle me, how he watched me let it go free and lied about it. Logically, I know that no matter how fast Killian is, he couldn't stop a group of shifters if they decided they wanted to kill me. And yet, when he makes that promise, I believe him.

I don't know if that makes me smart or foolish.

~

Are you surprised that Killian covered for Freya?

Do you think anything will happen at the moon festival?

Who is your comfort character in any book series, tv show, or movie?