We set up camp at the far end of town, choosing an old estate encircled by pine trees and crunchy snow—the perfect environment to alert us if any witch-burning lunatics should approach.

After I'd had a good cry alone with Will and tied a piece of cloth around my neck, I joined the others by the campfire.

"I don't think a thank-you even begins to cover it, but...thanks," I said to the group. Appreciative, ashamed.

In the past, most of my rescues were justified. A collapsing mountain full of Pans, a spider pit of doom, Demon-Tom's baptism. But tonight, I'd lost to a bunch of non-magical hillbillies, and if it hadn't been for my friends, I would have died at the hands of a scrawny old man with a superiority complex, pinned to a tree like a dead animal on the wall.

The whole affair was just embarrassing.

The second I sat down to rest my wobbly riding legs, Richard planted his fat body on top of my boots, refusing to let me wander again. I scratched behind his ear to convey that I wasn't going anywhere, but he didn't seem convinced.

"It was all these two," Valerie insisted, waving her arm at Mason and Will. "Never thought I'd live to see the day when these idiots worked together, but their combined genius blew me away."

"It just took a certain someone getting kidnapped to bring it out of them," Torian teased. The medic tended to a disgruntled Beckett at the base of a pine tree. The bullet had sailed straight through the tip of the man's shoulder, and while he'd lost a bucket of blood, it sounded like he was going to be okay.

Honestly, I wasn't sure how I'd handle the alternative.

"Don't sell yourself short. Your shots were spectacular, Val," Will praised, crouching down in front of me to nurse my injured palms. He glanced at Mason. "Yours too, by the way. You saved my life with that last one. I owe you."

Mason waved him off, but he failed to hide his grin. "I'm just glad we got out of there unscathed." He raised his arm to show off the bloody, shallow graze of a flying bullet. "I'm not gonna lie; I saw my life flash before my eyes there at one point."

Valerie and Tori laughed, bursting with endorphins, and even Will smiled a bit as he cleaned my wounds with snow.

I stared at the four of them, this new dynamic, this new team—awed and perplexed by their harmony.

How had so much changed in the span of a few hours?

"That was the most brilliant thing I've seen since Plan Z," I told them. "How'd you guys even come up with that?"

Mason was practically bouncing on his heels, beyond excited to share the details of their plan. "When we heard the gunshot, the four of us met up at a street corner. Used one of Fudge's bird calls to find each other," he explained. "A bunch of those freaks started crawling out of the shadows to gather around the house, so we decided to wait for nightfall before we risked following them into the trees."

Will sent me a sidelong glance. "For the record, we would have moved a hell of a lot quicker if we'd known they were planning to burn you at the stake."

I patted his knee in thanks.

"Once we had a sense of the layout, we started discussing strategy," Mason went on. "We figured we should fool them with numbers, like you did when Fudge and I were taken that night at the river. But I also knew we didn't stand a chance against bullets—we had to level the playing field. So Val and I decided to attack from an aerial standpoint while Tori went in and recovered Beckett. That left Sterling to handle your rescue."

Will nodded, hiding his own proud smirk. "Mason told us how you evaded the guards at the palace with your hostage ploy, and I suggested we take it one step further by leaning into the Ikelos narrative." He looked at me, and despite the blood and charcoal around his eyes, he'd never looked so friendly. "Building off their fear was way easier than denying it, and appealing to their worldview was simple once we came up with a reasonable backstory."

I squinted at him. "What was it you said to him at the end? It was like you cast a spell on him."

"It's a Bible verse," he said. "My father made me memorize quotable scripture to enhance my public speaking skills. Never thought I'd actually use it, but...here we are."

"Bible quote or not, that was a pretty great performance on your part," Mason told him, shocking me to my core with the genuine compliment. "That whole thing about Beckett being her dad? You came up with that on the spot. You sold it."

"And you were soooo mean," Valerie agreed. "I hardly recognized you with that tone of voice. I didn't like it."

"I just pretended to be Regulas," Will confessed. "And I didn't like it either."

"Yeah. Please never do that again," I said, only half-joking.

He finished wrapping my left palm in its bandage—the only person I trusted enough to touch my bare hands—and then nodded, sobering. "You took the words out of my mouth."

My teasing grin vanished at the accusation in his words.

The justified accusation.

"I'm really, really sorry I did that to you," I whispered, and when all I got was a pair of sad, disappointed eyes, I stared down at my boots. Once again, I'd made a mess of things, and this time, I'd endangered everyone in the group. "You have every right to be angry, but I swear I wasn't planning on getting involved. Then Beckett got shot, and—"

"It's not your involvement that's the issue," Mason cut in. His smile faded, and his gaze dipped to the cloth around my neck. "It's the fact that you always think you can do stuff on your own. And you know, maybe you can, most of the time. But it's okay to rely on us every now and again. That's why we're here, idiot."

I swallowed the stack of emotions in my throat. "I thought you were here because I volunteered you."

He folded his arms over his chest. "We both know that's not why."

We did.

"Mason's right, though. You don't have to protect us. Either of you," Valerie said, addressing a weary, ashen Beckett. "We know what we're doing, and we know what we signed up for. Please don't send us away like that again."

Torian paused in his sutures to look at me. "Just for the record, I share the sentiment, but I wouldn't mind some protecting here and again. I'm just a medic."

I let out a small laugh. "Noted, Tori."

Beckett stirred and moved to sit up on his good elbow, dismissing Tori's fussing. Then he let out a long, tired sigh. "I think Kingsley and I have, subconsciously, taken on a leadership role, perhaps even a parental one, and that mindset has cost us time and blood." He looked at the others, knitting his brow. "As the eldest of the group, I can't bear to watch any of you die on my watch, and given my history, I struggle with the idea of someone hurting themselves on my behalf, least of all cadets a fraction of my age. But...you're not wrong. I underestimated you, and I'm sorry for that." He nodded to himself. "You're not my pupils, you're my peers, and should I live through the night, I'll learn to treat you as such."

The group smiled at him, nodding their thanks, swelling with dignity, and I felt something hard and frozen thaw within me.

My friends had accomplished this task without me, on their own, of their own volition. This time, I didn't have to be the hero or the supernatural backup plan. And what a relief it was, knowing I could count on them with my hands tied behind my back. That despite my lack in judgement, my error hadn't cost them their lives. If anything, my poor choices had uncovered their combined strength.

This was the army Siren had told me about that day at the waterfall. But what I hadn't understood then was the nature of that army.

My friends were not soldiers seeking leadership and protection. They were not my medical team, trailing behind me to mop up my blood. They weren't my therapists either, always happy to relieve my worries and heal my pain. In fact, most days they exacerbated those anxieties, or they'd push me to confront them head-on.

These people were my family, each equipped with their own flaws, ambitions, and capabilities. And as Rover had said, I had to trust in them to make their own sacrifices—forcing any one of them under my wing was an injustice. Even Fudge hadn't belonged there. Not really.

This was my army.

And together, as a unit, we were potent.

A few hours later, my power had returned to my bloodstream, pulsing at the heart of either palm like a second heartbeat. The joy and comfort I felt in that moment was hard to describe, and even more difficult to justify.

Beckett slept soundly as Mason, Torian, and Valerie sat around the fire, recounting the events from earlier between fits of laughter. The two archers had rendered themselves drunk on Beckett's rum, and Tori was getting a kick out of Mason's loose tongue and storytelling.

I couldn't blame him there—an intoxicated, unguarded Mason was a sight to behold. Plus, he was actually bold enough to ask the medic to treat his bullet wound, and I didn't miss the care and tenderness present in Tori's touch as he did so.

When fatigue crept up on me, I decided to go find Will. He'd wandered off to feed the horses ten minutes ago and never returned, and I had a feeling it stemmed from a depleted social battery. That, or he was having a nice long conversation with his equine bestie.

I peered at Frank as I passed by the horses, wondering if he'd missed me at all in my absence, if he'd feared for my life. But when he caught sight of me, he spun around to face the other direction. Like I repulsed him or something.

"You know, you should count yourself lucky to be my horse," I said. "Beckett's ride became chevaline. Do you know what chevaline is?" I paused for dramatic effect. "It's horse meat. They ate him, Frank. Straight off the spit."

He swished his tail at me, completely uninterested in what I had to say.

Welt.

I meandered around the property and cautiously approached the ancient house down the hill. I found Will on the back porch, reclining on some sort of elevated, flexible disk with rusty springs.

My eyes widened as I drew closer. "Is...that a trampoline?"

"Yeah. I think so." Will patted the spot next to him, and I climbed on top of the contraption, gaping at the way the dusty floor sank under my weight.

I had no idea how a trampoline had survived so many generations. Perhaps it was because of the porch overhang above us, sheltering the material from snow and rain. But other than a few missing springs and a rusty frame, the toy was still intact, and I considered that nothing short of a miracle.

I lay down beside Will, staring up at the cobwebs on the overhang. Listening to the crickets calling their mates. Watching cool vapor leave my mouth with every exhale.

"Guess what?" I asked.

He waited, knowing I'd answer regardless of his response.

"The other spirit inside me? It's the Mad Commander."

He slowly turned his head to look at me. "What."

"She's the one who tried to possess me when I was a kid." I bit my lip, glad to shed the secret and the weight of its bombshell, but scared of his reaction. "I haven't told anyone else."

He stared at me for a few seconds, and I couldn't tell what he was thinking. "You're sure?"

"Yeah. When I knocked out the army, I triggered a memory of her death. The military killed her for her war crimes, and...she died happy about it." I shivered at the image of the gun against my head, the sensation of my body failing in its most crucial moment. I turned on my side to look at him, tucking my arm beneath my head. "In your library in Rhea, were there any records on her?"

He shook his head. "Not many. I basically know what you do—that she was a key figure in the Water Wars, and her rebellion nuked the northern hemisphere and essentially destroyed human civilization." He studied me, intrigued. "You think she's the reason you're so...?"

"Rash?" I offered.

He nodded.

"No idea."

His lips lifted at the corners. "All I know is that Rhea used her as an example of democracy gone wrong. And while our historians don't villainize her the same way Ells does, they do use her name when describing the unmet needs of the lower class. To us, Laurel Murphy represents the slippery slope from neglect to domestic terrorism." His expression turned thoughtful. "I can see why she might have felt the need to do things over, though. Make up for her mistakes."

I nodded, but I wasn't sure that was the real reason she'd returned. For all we knew, it was Trevor's meddling that brought her here, and based on her last few memories, she didn't seem very remorseful.

"The Temple of Josiah said their ancestors were locked out of the gates," I said, unable to shake the Bishop's speech from my brain. "As if...the Patrons kept them out of Havenbrooke prior to the Crash. But that timeframe doesn't make any sense."

"I wouldn't put much stock in that guy's sermon," Will dismissed, twisting on the mat to face me. "He tells those people exactly what they want to hear. He's a lot like Godric in that way."

"I guess. It seemed like he really believed it, though."

Like everyone else in his tribe, he'd been indoctrinated with a rigid dogma. Taught to fear. Told to cling to beliefs in a time of crisis. And truthfully, I didn't fault them for turning to religion as a coping mechanism. How else would someone survive the Gritz, surrounded by demons and isolated from society?

But the cult's disturbing way of life brought me back to my initial inquiry: had Laurel known she was damning everyone when she targeted the elites and their biggest cities? Had she realized she was hurting the powerless more than anyone?

And if she had, then what was the point?

Exhausted by my own rumination, I gazed at Will, the traces of dried blood on his cheeks, the dark streaks of charcoal under his lashes, and we lay in silence for a while, watching each other, basking in this private moment of intimacy.

He traced the bandage on my neck with his fingertips, his eyes apologizing for an injury he didn't cause. So I reached out and touched the scar I'd left on his wrist, moments before I'd shoved his demon form off a mountain.

We're even, the gesture said. Don't sweat it.

"Are you nervous?" I asked after a few minutes. "To see your people again?"

"Nervous...and concerned." Worry lines appeared on his forehead and beneath his eyes. "I'm not sure I'll be able to convince them to join us."

"You're their sovereign, aren't you?"

"Rhea may be a monarchy, but the clans hold all the power. They only follow a family they deem worthy." His gaze traveled over the tattoos on his wrist. "Once, the Sterling line earned its sovereignty. But I'm afraid my people have lost all respect for us, and all duty to me. Especially after I abandoned them."

I bumped his knee with mine. "You didn't abandon anyone, Will. Harmon rescued you—you had no choice but to leave."

"But I could have gone back."

"You did."

It wasn't enough. Will would always carry that remorse with him, the same way I would regret leaving my father alone to defend Belgate. Pointless guilt, but everlasting.

"They don't know you yet," I insisted. "Who you are. What you've done. When they see who you've become, they'll want to follow you. They'll choose to."

I know I would.

He huffed and smiled that soft, affectionate smile I was so rarely gifted with.

"What?"

"You just...always jump in to comfort me. Even when I don't deserve it," he said.

"Not really. I just tell you the truth, and you're too hard on yourself to realize that you're an awesome leader with admirable qualities, so you think I'm making stuff up. But I'm not." I grinned at his eye-roll. "Besides. You'll need the ego if you're going to be king."

At that, his face changed, almost imperceptibly, and I feared I'd poisoned his joy.

"That is...what you want, right? To be king?"

He hesitated. "I'm not sure, honestly. Growing up, I never wanted to succeed my father."

"Never?"

He shook his head, shame creeping into his eyes. "I think deep down, that's one of the reasons I ran away."

I waited for him to continue, having come to the realization that Will would speak to me for hours if I gave him enough time to consider his delivery, if I gave him room to explain himself, unprovoked.

Deep inside that iron heart, he had a lot to share.

"I didn't want to be a part of that family. I didn't want to ally myself with demons and my father's hatred. But...I also didn't want to grow up and become the Grand Duke of Rhea, stuck in a castle, forced to do my brother's bidding. I wanted more from life. It's selfish, but that's how I've always felt." He wet his lips. "Now, I'm not sure how to feel. I just know I have a duty to my people."

Duty, huh?

Crown or not, Will had already chosen leadership. That much was obvious.

My brow lifted. "If we secure an alliance with the clans and win this war, do you think you'll return to Rhea? Help the clans rebuild the kingdom?"

"I don't know if there's anything left of Rhea to salvage."

"If there were?" I pressed, holding my breath.

He glanced at me again, pained and uncertain. "I don't know."

The admission punched a hole in my gut, but I did my best to keep the emotion off my face.

Will was finally accepting his destiny, and I knew he'd do amazing things in Rhea. Whether or not he claimed the throne, his guidance would help dissolve tensions between our people. He could inspire a new age of grace, empathy, and collaboration. And if it took him leaving me to accomplish that, it was worth it.

I probably wouldn't live long enough to lose him anyway.

His fingers extended toward mine, fearfully, as if I might vanish upon his next blink. "Alex..."

"That's okay," I heard myself say, linking our hands together on the mat. Offering him a limp smile. "Whatever you decide. It's okay."

And I meant it.

Or at least...I wanted to mean it.

"C'mere," he whispered, frowning at the distance between us, the reserved look on my face, and I scooted closer. Reluctantly.

Sadly.

As soon as I was tucked against his chest, he planted a soft, prolonged kiss on my forehead, like he was trying to convey the comforting words trapped in his brain. Then he used his free hand to brush the loose hair out of my face, and the gesture immediately destroyed the hardened shell around my heart.

Intoxicated, I submitted to his warm embrace, curling into him like an animal safe in its den—cherishing his touch, savoring our time together.

However temporary it may be.

Then the trampoline collapsed under our weight, and the two of us fell to the ground in a tangled heap of rusty metal and polypropylene.

I gaped at the overhang in shock, but my disbelief quickly melted into amusement, and I burst out laughing. My guffaws triggered Will's own quiet laughter, and we lay flat on our backs, giggling into the pine needles.

Still holding hands.

**************************************************************

Fluff, as promised! <3

Also, my books have been stolen (again) by NovelHD and Teenfic.net, and they've garnered a crap ton of reads. I filed some reports though Google, but this is the second time this has happened. :(

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