Aeden volunteered to take the first watch. It didn't matter that he'd done it several times before; he still found it unnerving to hold three lives in his hands. That night he stayed on high alert, constantly shifting his focus from his companions to the forest and sky above.

Rain fell a few times, but Maeve's barrier held. When the storm arrived—the natural one he'd anticipated—it was reassuringly normal. There were only a few distant strikes of lightning, a short downpour, and then it rolled past.

Maeve was awake for its duration. Her eyes remained wide open in the firelight, and she tensed at every peal of thunder. She rigidly scanned the forest alongside Aeden; their gazes met a few times, but neither said anything. Aeden let her be.

Once the rain petered out into a drizzle, she relaxed and fell back asleep. Her freckled face, framed by her loosened hair, looked much softer like that. One might have mistaken her for an innocent girl or, worse, the approachable sort.

Ronan woke a few times as well, probably restless and cold, but never longer than a minute. Given the amount of travel they'd done over the past week or two, he must've been exhausted. Morri certainly was, for she slept like the dead. Considering her pale skin and the flowers still woven in her hair, she resembled a corpse set for burial. That proved an unsettling comparison, though, so Aeden cast it aside.

Weariness settled in his bones after a few hours passed. His focus drifted to the moon, which had finally slipped past the cloud cover to brighten the night. Aeden stared at it longer than he should have, entranced by the mottled silver surface. His thoughts muddled over, as if it were one of those blistering, lazy summer days when the whole world seemed to nod off.

He shook his head sharply and lowered his gaze, realising he'd grown dangerously drowsy. Perhaps he'd been pushing himself too hard. His body ached, and he hadn't had much rest; his nights were infested with bad memories these days.

As he stood up to pass off watch duty, the shadows before him split. A small, dark wildcat with green fur emerged from the depths of the forest. His movements were entirely silent. The cat sí crept to the edge of the campfire and paused, his wary eyes on Aeden. They reflected the flames like flickering, golden mirrors.

He jerked to his feet, shaking off his tiredness. If anybody would be able to creep up on him, it would be another, older shapeshifter—still, unease trailed its fingers down his spine. He should've heard something.

Aeden knew this one had helped the others find him, so, stupidly, he hesitated before attacking. "What do you want?" he demanded. Since Ronan was closest, he nudged him with his foot.

The human didn't stir. Too late, it occurred to Aeden that his companions weren't awake to defend their minds against Cael's power, and his own drowsiness would've allowed the cat sí to tug at his senses, and Maeve had only ever created that barrier to keep out rain.

Aeden lunged, but Cael was uninjured and in the form of a far faster creature. It took him only one leap to reach Maeve. He shifted as soon as he was within reach, yanking her body half-upright to close one hand around her neck. Claws tipped his fingers. He crouched behind her, staring Aeden down over her shoulder.

Maeve didn't so much as flinch.

"Careful, now," Aeden growled, scrambling to figure out what to do. A glance to the side proved Morri was fast asleep, too. Something tugged at his chest, whispering, but he didn't have time to focus on it. "We've already proved that I'm stronger."

"And I have your companions imprisoned in their sleep." Cael regarded him with a dull, blank gaze. His delivery of the threat was eerily soft and lacked emotion. "I'm older than the four of you combined. Even Morrigan can't free herself from my hold in time, assuming she'd realise what's happened."

"Did Shayne order you to do this?" Aeden wet his lips, looking around. He sensed nobody else, but with Cael's power creeping into the air it was hard to be sure. "Where is he? Or those soldier lads? Did you run out of humans to make puppets of?"

The cat sí redoubled his grip on Maeve. "I do not need company for this task. Be still. If you try to attack, I can slit this one's throat before you reach me."

The hair on the back of Aeden's neck prickled. That thing wrenched at his chest again—with a jolt, he recognised it as the tight grip of a geas. His geas. The one he'd made to Maeve.

Shit.

"And what task would that be, exactly?" Aeden lifted his hands, straining to keep his voice even. His thoughts whirled. If Shayne's goal—or perhaps it was Cael's?—was to kill Maeve, he'd have done so already. So he wanted something from Aeden. Did he expect to coerce him by threatening Mae? Unlikely. Shayne knew how much he valued his freedom. He wasn't stupid enough to bet on Aeden sacrificing that to surrender. Not for a woman he'd only known for a few weeks.

"You will come with me," Cael said.

Is he that stupid? "This is ridiculous," Aeden replied, struggling to piece together something better.

His promise to Maeve echoed in his mind, annoyingly close. Unless I must, I'll do everything in my power to avoid harming either of you. Those were the exact words. He'd been vague about letting others harm them, just in case, but the vow's current weight told him he'd toed the line too closely. It couldn't compel him into anything, but it was distracting as hell.

"Oh." Cael pressed his clawed fingers against Maeve's neck. One nicked her skin, teasing out a droplet of blood. "So you will let her die?"

Aeden flinched. The geas tugged harder, clouding his thoughts with an urgent nudge. "No, you—"

His throat tightened as he realised his mistake. Again, he was too late. A stifling pressure caged his body, far stronger and closer than the first, as the promise solidified. His next inhale shuddered.

Stupid. He was so stupid to loosen his tongue. Cael's wording had been specific yet perfectly unclear, with no set limit on duration. Aeden had closed the geas; he could not allow Maeve to die now, no matter what. That was that. It would always be so.

Cael nodded, his eyes sombre. He stood up fully, hooking one arm around Maeve's middle to keep her with him. His other hand remained at her throat, a mere half-second from cutting it. She wouldn't be able to survive such a wound, even awake and at full strength.

"If you don't come with me, I must kill her. The same goes if you get any closer or farther than you are now, attack, or shift your form." Cael spoke stiffly, as if reading from a new script. Yet there was real threat in the way he hauled her upright, his thin, razor-sharp claws brushing her bare neck. He'd do it. If he truly was under Shayne's command, he probably had as little choice as Aeden.

He clenched his hands, searching for the soonest opportunity to attack without getting Maeve killed. None came. Trapped, whispered a voice in the back of his head. Trapped again, you fool.

"Damn you," he said hoarsely.

"I know." Cael appeared to want to say something else, but instead he began to back up into the woods. He didn't need to look behind him to keep his footing. He was a cat sí, built to wander the forests of Ríenne as easily as any wild creature. There would be no tripping over roots or getting lost. There would be no opening. "Follow."

Aeden lasted the space of a breath before the pressure on his chest swelled, crushing his lungs. Tremors shivered to life in his legs; he did as the man said before the geas took hold of him completely. He couldn't afford to lose control of his body and be dragged along like a puppet.

His eyes flicked to Morrigan. She was still unconscious, her face peaceful and unaware. As he passed, Aeden trod heavily on her bad arm. Wake up, Morri, he pleaded, not risking saying it aloud.

Her fingers twitched.

There wasn't time to check if she really was waking up, and Aeden didn't dare place too much faith in her. Cael was right—she was powerful, but he was, too, and he specialised in the mind. It would take her time to break through the curse that Aeden didn't have. He kept his eyes on Cael as he followed the man, keeping the distance between them.

If it had been day, Aeden might've hoped that Maeve would wake up. He didn't doubt the strength of her mental fortitude: she'd broken Cael's hold with ease when they last encountered him. But the sun was about as far from her grasp as it could be, and she wasn't awake to fight back. She probably didn't even know she'd been netted into her sleep. Why would she? They'd all been focused on Lún that night. Even Aeden.

A foolish, foolish mistake.

☽☾

Shayne waited at the crest of the hill, facing the mountainous landscape with his hands folded behind him. His hair fell loose to the middle of his back, smooth and straight despite the wind. The moon had managed to break free of the clouds, illuminating a thin mist that the rain had left behind. It swirled lazily around the man, as if waiting for his command.

Cael spoke swiftly. "Don't attack him, either, or I must kill her."

His hands shook, but Aeden swallowed the urge to fight. He risked a glance at Maeve, still limp in the man's grip. Her hair had fallen across her face and the sleeve of her tunic was slipping, two things she'd usually never allow. Sleep rendered her dangerously vulnerable. Stupid of me to forget she's young, too. Of course she can't defend against a cat sí this old. She doesn't use mind spells.

Shayne turned as Cael led Aeden closer, revealing the wound Maeve had gouged into his shoulder. The skin across it and part of his neck was pitted and blackened, flaking in places to reveal strips of muscle. A small chunk of his flesh had been torn away entirely. It was healing and half-obscured by the neck of his shirt, but the wound had obviously been a terrible one. Aeden only wished Maeve had struck her mark.

Silence reigned as Shayne's eyes shifted between the three arrivals. They settled firmly on Cael, dark with annoyance. "You think yourself clever, don't you?"

Cael said nothing.

Aeden lunged upon the opportunity to keep Shayne talking. Once the man knew the particulars of Aeden's geas, he'd use it to get him under his thumb. That couldn't happen. "Did he do something you don't like, old man?" He failed miserably at keeping the words steady.

"He brought you to me, as I commanded." Shayne looked at him, something like satisfaction sweeping across his irritation. Aeden wished he hadn't. "But I wasn't specific enough. It wasn't supposed to be her. Cael, tell me the exact wording you used for the geas."

Aeden jumped. "Hold—"

"I asked him if he would let her die," Cael murmured. "He said no."

Shayne frowned, bringing one hand to his chin. "Let... So, if he were to simply do everything he could to stop it, she can still be killed without breaking the vow."

"In this case, one could argue that he allowed me to get close enough to grab her."

Aeden stumbled, pain wrapping his ribcage in iron bands. As he'd made the geas, it would follow his definition of the vow. Unfortunately, he found himself agreeing with Cael's line of reasoning. This was his fault. He lifted his head to glare at the cat sí. Why did he have to open his mouth?

"I would advise you to be careful about ending her life here," Cael continued slowly, ignoring him. "Their lives are bound. His mind might fracture if he believes the geas broken."

Shayne's lips twisted. "I never should have allowed you discretion."

"Perhaps not," Cael said, "but I've still done as you asked."

Damn it all. Maeve's life was secured, but only as leverage. That didn't help her very much, and certainly didn't help Aeden. He looked between the two men, feeling as if he'd been caught in a long-standing, invisible battle for control. "I prefer my mind unfractured, if you please."

Both of them ignored him, of course. He was contained by a geas, nothing more than a pawn with a loud mouth. No longer a threat—if he'd ever been considered one.

"Do not think I'll forget this, Cael," Shayne finally said. The words threatened pain. He turned to Aeden, his expression smoothing over. "No matter. I'll find a way to remove her later."

"What are you talking about?" Aeden hissed, jerking forward. He needed to stall—not that he had anything to wait for. "Why are you so desperate to kill her?"

Cael's grip on Maeve tightened enough to draw blood from her skin; the geas forced Aeden back as easily as if he'd been shoved. He clenched his hands, curses flying to his tongue.

"Any sídhe knows to trust his instincts. She is dangerous, and she is in our way," Shayne explained calmly. "She's too simple—too aggressive—to be trusted with the sun's power. She must be stopped here."

"Simple? Hardly," Aeden snapped. Maeve was straightforward, not stupid. Aggressive, well, at least she couldn't match the madman that stood before him. And, despite how she acted, she knew kindness. He'd been surprised by hers more than once. "It's not your right to decide her worth. She was born into that power, so she is meant for it."

"A failing of youth. You, too, think too simply."

Aeden choked on his disgust. Thinking simply? It was the way of their people to follow their natures. His voice grew quieter, crushed beneath his aggravation and the constant pressure of the geas on his heart. "You've truly lost yourself to that poison, haven't you?"

He tilted his head. "Poison?"

"The Ándúr Nimh, you eejit." Aeden had no wish to explain, but since it would waste precious seconds he went on. "It's been leaking into Natír and warping the minds of our people. I'm surprised you weren't aware. Perhaps you're not as clever as you think you are."

"I have heard of that, actually." He brushed past the insult, though Aeden saw his jaw clench. "It's nonsense. The supposed Ándúr Nimh is not at all a poison, and I am far from madness."

A growl spilled from Aeden's throat, fueled by a bout of useless frustration. He was so tired of this argument. "You don't realise something's wrong with you? Trespassing, murdering, using geasa against other sídhe—you've defied almost every law we have!"

"I've only done what I must," Shayne snapped, anger cracking across his expression. He moved closer, towering over Aeden. "There is far more to this conflict than you realise. You're simply too young to understand. Now. Speaking of geasa, yours—"

"Don't." Dread scraped Aeden's voice raw. The need to attack was so strong that he trembled.

"You have nothing to fear from me, child." Shayne sighed and leaned down. He rested a hand on Aeden's shoulder, which drew a flinch out of him. "But this world is fatal to our kind. You don't know the things that I've seen—the wars, the senseless killings." His eyes briefly turned west, in the direction of Lake Draí. "I wish to save you from that."

Aeden barely registered the words. The man was reciting the same damn things; they weren't worth listening to. "You're pathetic."

"I fail to see how." Shayne's eyes pinned Aeden in place. "Cael, kill the sun sídhe if he doesn't answer my next question with the word yes."

Aeden went rigid, panic flashing white-hot through his mind. "Wait—"

"Aeden, son of Nevan." The man spoke with terrifying finality. His hand remained a heavy weight on Aeden's shoulder. "Do you vow to follow my orders?"

He threw a desperate look at Maeve. Her head lolled, held up only by Cael's hand on her throat. Not one trace of heat came from her; she emanated as little power as a human. Aeden wanted nothing more than to run over, shake her awake, and flee. He wanted to see her amber eyes and the light of her flames. The pressure of the geas moved to his throat, squeezing it until he was sure he'd forget to breathe.

"You can't stay silent forever," Shayne said. "Speak. I'll be happy to kill her myself."

Aeden's nails dug into his palms until hot blood trickled down them. It stung, but not as badly as the geas forming at his lips. "Y-yes."

"Yes what? Be precise."

"Yes, I will..." The promise felt like swallowing a stone: it was too heavy on his tongue. He tasted sand. "I will do as you say."

"For how long?"

Aeden spit a curse, thinking. The man was determined to trap him as thoroughly as possible. He needed a response that would satisfy Shayne while leaving him a way out. "Until you die or release me from this vow." Tremors wracked his spine as the words bound him. "Is that enough for you?"

"It is," the man said, only then releasing Aeden. There it was again—that sickening glint of triumph in his eyes. He glanced in Maeve's direction. "I apologise for how your previous geas formed. That is the one you ought to worry about, since Cael made things more complicated than necessary. It must be unpleasant to be forced to protect a stranger, but I intend to free you of it soon."

Fury snapped at Aeden amidst the newly formed geasa. He jabbed a finger into Shayne's chest, his lips curling. "She's no stranger, and I'd much rather be bound to her than you."

"I see." Shayne took his wrist again and gently pushed it down, examining him. "You care about her."

"You really have lost it."

"Tell me the truth. Do you care about her? Perhaps you consider her a friend?"

"N—" Aeden snapped his mouth shut, shaking. Shayne's command cut into him, as bitingly sharp as an iron blade. He would have preferred that, or even chains. Those only bound the body, not the spirit. "I... might. How do you define caring?"

Shayne was silent for a while, simply watching him. "That is unfortunate."

It felt very hard to breathe. Aeden glanced at Cael again. The cat sí still held his claws at Maeve's neck, but eyes had grown more unfocused, directed nowhere in particular. It was as if he were listening to something far away.

Aeden tensed. An opening. Finally. "I suppose it is."

"We should leave for Natír," Shayne went on, oblivious. Mist collected around his fingers, glittering in the moonlight. "There is a safe place I've prepared there."

Aeden didn't think it through much: he had to try. The instant the man's gaze left him, he leapt at Cael and slammed him into the ground, wrestling his hands away from Maeve. Cael didn't try to fight him—she fell from his grip and crumpled to the grass, unmoving.

A chunk of stone swiftly ripped from the earth, slamming into Aeden's chest with enough force to knock him onto his back. He hissed, scrambling to his hands and knees. Something must have struck Cael as well, for pain creased his face and he clutched his head.

"Both of you, be still," Shayne ordered, dropping his hand. Viridescent light lit his eyes, and his power shivered faintly through the dirt under Aeden's fingers.

Aeden froze in place, dimly aware of Cael doing the same. As much as he wished to recoil, he remained motionless as the man grabbed his jaw, jerking his head so that their gazes met. His grip was almost painfully firm.

"The trouble with you," Shayne said quietly, "is that you refuse to listen. Understand, Aeden, that I could be far less kind to you. What would happen if I ordered you to believe me? Speak."

He answered through gritted teeth. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do." Shayne waited until Aeden looked away before going on. "It's not my wish to make you unhappy, and I have no intention of forcibly altering your mind. But I will do as I see fit to protect you. Do not forget it."

Aeden swallowed. He knew the man was trying to scare him. It was working. "Am I supposed to thank you for that?"

"Enough with the attitude. This is for your own good," Shayne snapped, his fingers digging into Aeden's chin until he winced. "We've wasted too much time here. Wish whatever you'd like, but you will come with me."

To the left, Cael pushed himself onto an elbow. Fresh blood leaked from his upper lip. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, his expression icy and absolutely certain.

"And you. I offered the same mercy, but I am losing my patience with you," Shayne growled, releasing Aeden to whirl upon the man. "What is it this time, then? Tell me what you've planned."

Cael stood slowly, unflinching even as Shayne seized his collar. "I have arranged your death."

"Death? How could you...?" He abruptly stiffened, realisation flooding his eyes. He shoved the cat sí back and began to turn.

Slender, white arms slipped over his shoulders before he could. Morrigan materialised from the darkness like a phantom, shadows and mist clinging to her dress. She clenched an obsidian knife in one hand. Blood brimmed in her sightless eyes; she gathered Shayne close, as if embracing him, and cut his throat open.

It was done within a second. The man's eyes widened, and a twitch shuddered through him. His hands fell limp at his sides. The ground stirred as his power drained away with his life. Aeden could only watch, locked into stillness as he was.

"Shh," Morrigan whispered, taking Shayne's weight as he slumped. Her voice quivered. "It is done. Rest."

No response came. She'd cut deep; he was already fading, probably no longer even feeling the pain. It was a clean, merciful kill. She lowered him to the ground, crimson tears mingling with the blood pouring from his neck. Bending to his ear, she whispered something in the old tongue.

The geas constricting Aeden's limbs waned as Shayne lay dying. He sucked in a deep breath and collapsed onto the grass, his heartbeat drumming in his ears. He was aware of the man's gaze burning into him. Perhaps the murderer of his family wanted to convey one last command, or a final wish.

He locked his jaw and watched the blood pool across the grass instead. He refused to give the man the satisfaction of acknowledgement: all he would receive was silent disgust. So Aeden waited, and when the geas he'd made shattered and uncoiled from his lungs he knew it was finished.

Shayne was finally dead. In the end, it had only taken one simple cut.

The desire to move crashed into Aeden, sudden and powerful. His fingers itched; despite the numb exhaustion swirling in his thoughts, he pushed himself onto one knee and checked on Maeve. She didn't seem harmed. Merely asleep, as she had been.

The blade slipped from Morrigan's fingers as soon as she'd confirmed Shayne was dead. She scrambled away from the body and rushed to Aeden. Her eyes were slowly clearing of blood, leaving them wide and worried. She clutched the hem of his sleeve, like she needed to anchor herself but was scared to actually touch him. "Are you hurt?"

"No," Aeden mumbled absently, turning to face her. She had the aura of glass, sharp and clear yet fragile to the touch. "Where, uh, did you get that knife?"

Morrigan didn't seem to hear the question. Her breathing hitched, and she hovered one hand over his chest. "A geas..."

"I'm fine. The knife, Morri?" he insisted. It didn't really matter, but he didn't wish to be the one explaining. Not yet.

She let out a broken laugh and leaned into him, burying her face in his tattered cape. Her shoulders shook. "I've always had this with me. I-I keep it in case I need a weapon."

"Morri..." He kept an eye on Cael over the top of her head. The man had occupied himself standing over Shayne's body, which was a bit eerie but understandable. Blood continued to spread across the ground, creeping closer to where Aeden and Morrigan knelt. An odd thought struck him. "Is this the first time you've killed someone?"

"I'm sorry," she murmured, avoiding the question. "It wasn't my place."

Aeden hesitated. The aes sídhe were a people of trade. One word for another, a life for a death. His trade with Shayne had been a simple one of revenge. Morrigan had, in a way, taken it upon herself to deliver it. Their conflict was one she had nothing to do with, and he certainly felt that Shayne's death did not reflect his crimes.

Perhaps he should have been angry about that, but Aeden quite suddenly found that he didn't care. He smoothed a hand over her head. "If it was mine, I did a terrible job. You saved me. Thank you, Morrigan."

His awkward attempt at comfort was interrupted as Cael approached them. Aeden pushed Morri out of the way, staggering to his feet. It seemed safe—the man showed no sign of aggression and his fingers hung loose at his sides—but he refused to make the same mistake twice.

Cael gave him a blank stare. "I intend to leave soon. I assume you have questions for me before I do."

"You're right. Did you release Morri?" Aeden nodded in her direction. She watched Cael with caution equal to his own, which told him there had been no predetermined agreement between the two.

"I did."

"How did you get away with that?"

"Shayne was desperate, particularly after his most recent injury." Cael angled his gaze at Maeve. "Ever since my mind was cleared, I've been picking at the gaps in his orders. He told me to trap your companions in their sleep, but never specified how long. After I subdued you and brought you to him, I released Morrigan. She can disguise her presence, so he didn't notice her coming."

Aeden frowned. "It isn't like him to let his control slip, even if he's desperate."

"No." The cat sí lifted his head. "The Ándúr Nimh is strong in the parts of Natír tied to this region. Very strong. Shayne's mind was fraying even faster under its influence. It made him clumsy."

Morrigan stiffened. "Did it affect you?"

"I knew what to guard against this time. It pulled at me, but my mind is clear." When neither of them answered, Cael turned. "I've released the human and the sun sídhe now. If that is all..."

Aeden shot to his feet to catch the man's shoulder. His eyes were so infuriatingly calm. How could he act as if nothing important had happened? He'd bound Aeden with a geas. Even if he had been ordered to, it was wrong. "It is not. Don't you have any advice on the mess you left me in?"

"I do." Cael shrugged from his grip, unapologetic. "Don't let her die."

Aeden gritted his teeth. That wasn't helpful. "Once I've finished here, I think we should see each other again," he growled. "We have more to discuss."

"Find me whenever you wish, but it won't change anything." With that, Cael shifted into his wildcat form and strode past Shayne's body, his tail flicking side to side. The shadows reached for his lithe frame, tangling with his fur. Then he was gone.

"Don't let who die?" There was a lingering weariness in Maeve's voice, but she shook it off swiftly. Jerking her sleeve back in place over her shoulder, she sat up and looked around. "Curse this tunic. Why are we at the hilltop? Wait—where's Ronan?"

Aeden couldn't deny the relief of her company, though no small amount of exasperation came with it. "Welcome back, Mae. You missed a lot."

"I can tell. Where is my brother?"

"Safer than the rest of us were, probably." He sighed and tilted his head, listening. A few distant crashes reached his ear. "Mhm. No need to worry your pretty head. He's coming."

"And why are we not with him? What happened?" She shot to her feet, staring out in the direction of their makeshift campsite.

Aeden reached for her shoulder, then thought better and folded his arms against his chest. The geas' touch lingered, like a thin thread wrapped around his heart. At least its painful pressure had faded with the danger. Mae probably wouldn't even notice it, unless she drew up close and examined him like Morri had. "Shayne came back."

She stiffened, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. "Are you alright?"

"Grand." Aeden jerked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the body. He didn't have the energy to attempt a smile. "Morri took care of it."

Maeve opened her mouth, but was distracted when Ronan stumbled into their line of sight. The young man held one hand to his head and looked understandably confused, but was indeed unharmed.

Taking a half step towards him, she swivelled back to Aeden and tapped his chest with one finger. "You'll have to explain."

He rubbed a hand over his face, suddenly very tired. "Aye. I will."

"Good. Just—stay there." She scrutinised him a moment longer before rushing to her brother, leaving Aeden alone with Morri and an aching hole in his chest.