I bit back my own grin. Hayat’s food never needed saving. Malachi only took another bite, calm as ever, as though the silence itself had seasoned the meal to his liking.
The fire cracked, cups emptied, and laughter—hesitant at first, then real—threaded through the camp. For a while, the weight pressing on us felt a little lighter.
We woke before the sun, gathering packs and saddles. No one said much. We simply mounted and rode.
The day stretched long, the rhythm of hooves and the creak of leather filling the silence.
We reached the house just as dawn tipped the sky from violet to pearl. As soon as it came into view, I slid off the horse and ran.
The front door stuck like always, but the hinges gave with a groan, and I burst inside.
Everything looked just as I’d left it—warm, lived-in, still a little chaotic. A ceramic mug on the side table. My worn satchel tossed by the hearth. The air smelled like cedar and salt. Like home.
“Aeryn!” I called, my voice echoing off the stone walls.
No answer.
I ran through the rooms—his, mine, the sitting nook, the sunroom. Empty.
“Oh,” Hayat said behind me, too casual. “He might be visiting Colette. He’s been there often lately.”
I stared at him. “Oh… okay.”
Colette had always brought me comfort. If Aeryn was finding solace with her too, I should’ve felt relieved.
But relief didn’t come.
Instead, something cold and tight coiled under my ribs—worry, restlessness, a flicker of something I couldn’t name. If Hayat were lying, it would be the first time he ever had.
I needed to see him myself. To count his breaths, to hear his voice, to know he was still here and still him.
Otherwise all of this—every step through shadow, everybargain, every bruise—would feel frighteningly close to being for nothing.
Before I could press further, Malachi stepped into the doorway. His gaze swept the room. “Where’s your room?” he asked me.
Hayat’s head snapped toward him. “Why?”
Malachi’s voice didn’t shift, but I felt the cold behind it. “I don’t really think that’s any of your business.”
“It most definitely is. She’s been gone for weeks, and now you just show up and—what? Think I’m not going to question everything?”
I stepped between them, my voice low. “Hayat. It’s okay. We’ve been traveling. Everyone needs to rest.”
Hayat looked at me. Then at Malachi. His mouth curved into something almost like a smile. But not the kind I trusted.
“I know where it is,” he said, voice too light. “I can show you.”
Malachi just chuckled, slow and quiet. “Lead the way.”
Tension coiled in the space between them. Before it could snap, the door opened again behind me. Santiago stepped in, his boots scuffing across the worn floorboards. His face was drawn, sharper in the morning light.
“Feels strange,” he muttered, looking around. “Being this close to my family’s estate again. Unsettling.”
Lysara followed him, her expression softer. “You have a lovely home,” she said, offering me a small smile.
“It’s not much,” I said. “But you can rest for a bit.”
She nodded. “It’s perfect.”