There's no time to clamber out. I reach for Samu, wrapping my arms around his frame as the carriage t lands with a thud. Head spinning, low growls seep through the cracks in the wood.

Blood pounds in my ears as my eyes dart around. Samu's weight crushes me against the window of the sideways carriage, one of the beams from the crushed seat trapping my foot. I don't dare make a noise as I try to shift from beneath his body, the growls closer now. The stench of blood thickens the air, a stomach-churning slurping noise following.

The sheet hangs limply, exposing a sliver of the night sky. The eerie silence screams. All around, a metallic scent hangs in the air. I manage to shift Samu's body to the side and start trying to free my foot, my heart pounding against my chest.

The carriage creaks, as if the wood will collapse at any moment. My pants of desperation fill the silence as I yank at my leg. A low growl vibrates through the wood. I freeze, fear paralysing my entire body.

I force myself to look at Samu, but that only makes it worse. Memories crash over me. The Red Moon. Red paints my eyelids. My father's screams fill the empty space of the carriage, his body painting red across the wooden floor of our cabin as the shifters dragged him away.

I squeeze my eyes shut to chase the memory away, but it only serves to make his screams louder. In the desperation, my leg comes free. The beam crushing it loosens, clattering against the roof of the carriage, the end jagged and sharp from the way the wood snapped.

The growling pauses as I scramble to my knees, reaching for Samu to put him on the side of the carriage against the earth.

My heart stops as heavy breath registers just outside. A dark shape hovers just over the entrance, blocking the moon from sneaking inside, the gentle flapping of the sheet revealing its large frame. Low, ragged breaths fill the air. My mind threatens to shut down, to roll into a ball and squeeze my eyes shut until the monster disappears.

But then I remember Samu.

Lurching forward, I pull the jagged beam of wood from where it clattered to the ground and brandish it towards the opening, forcing myself to take deep, slow breaths. I've faced Ereon. I've walked into a ballroom filled with hundreds of shifters.

A snout nudges the sheet aside, revealing sharp, yellowed jaws. Foam gathers at the edges of the shifters snout, tinged red. I force myself to remain still as it drips down from above, splattering on my cheek.

The carriage creaks beneath its weight. But just as it goes to lean further forward, its head snaps in a different direction, leaving the rag flapping in a wind. I remain frozen in the carriage, the wood my only weapon as the shadow retreats.

A moment later, the sheet is pulled back by another figure.

Killian raises a finger to his lips, eyes wide. He assesses my position, balancing over the small entrance and reaching in to lift Samu from me, throwing him over his shoulder. I shift once his weight is gone, trying to stand.

Killian offers me a hand. I'm not stupid enough to refuse it, letting him lift me from the overturned carriage. My head spins as I clamber atop, letting out a shaky breath. The front of the carriage is obscured from my vision, but there's no sign of the horse.

Behind Killian, Lei carries Samu over her shoulders, Draigh in front of her with a knife pointed towards us. I ignore Killian hand this time and clamber to the ground myself, stumbling backward towards them. It's only when I turn around to face the carriage that I see what they see.

My stomach lurches with nausea, but it's overpowered by fear. That thick stench of blood, the growling, the slurping. It's the tearing of flesh. The horse's corpse lies on it side, a dark figure crouched over it, tearing into its body.

Shifter.

Killian grabs my wrist, pulling me backward slowly, an inch ahead of me as to obscure my vision of the predator and its prey. We walk in complete silence. I lose vision of them, but the stench hangs in the air, the low growls echoing towards us even after several minutes.

It's only when we're 20 minutes into the walk that Killian dares speak.

"Did he get your scent?"

Lei and Draigh exchange a glance. "We don't think so. He was after the horse."

My voice is small and shaky when I ask, "What happens if it gets your scent?"

They all turn to look at me. "Then we become like the horse," Draigh says eventually.

I shudder, turning to look back over one shoulder. "Come on," Lei urges. "We should keep walking. We have a lot of ground to cover."

Killian frowns at me when I don't move. My head is still reeling. I didn't get to see much more than its back, but those sounds... they remind me of the way that shifter lurched towards me in the Palace.

"You hit your head," Killian murmurs.

"He..." I blink at him. "It... it was an infected?"

He nods, reaching up to grab the sides of my face to inspect the cut. My head spins, and I'm so distracted by what we just saw that I don't bother swatting him away.

"It... it ate the horse," I say. Draigh stares at me, stoic. All three of them seem bogged down, heavier. "Why didn't you stop it?"

"We couldn't," Lei says.

"There are three of you--"

"It was safer letting it get the horse."

Red paints my eyelids. That horse's cry before its death screams in my ears. "You could've stopped it. You could've shifted and... and..." My vision blurs. "You should've..."

"Hey." Both Killian's hands warm my cheeks. "Can you look straight at me?"

He sways in my vision. The adrenaline keeping me going slowly seeps from my veins. But Lei and Draigh, unconcerned, both share perplexed expressions at my words. "Shifted?" Lei says. "You do realise--"

"She doesn't know," Killian cuts her off. "None of them do."

"Know w-what?" My voice is slurred as the pounding in my head grows stronger.

Killian clicks in front of my eyes. "Can you hear me, Freya?"

I try to speak but the words won't come. My legs buckle beneath me and the world falls dark.

***

The pounding in my head resumes the moment I regain consciousness. It takes me several seconds of blinking to clear my blurry vision, surroundings coming into view. A beige material shelters me, lit by the sun outside casting the shadow of an overhanging branch outside.

I bolt into a sitting position atop the thin mattress laying flat on the ground, brown pine needles littering the floor. A thick, scratchy blanket bunches at my waist, revealing the brown tunic adorning my body. The dirtied ball gown is nowhere to be seen.

The beige material hikes up in the middle, supported by a wooden pole. The tent-like structure has a flap as a doorway. I blink around the space. The last thing I remember was walking through the forest with Killian and the Torinnian shifters. We'd almost been attacked by an infected. I hit my head. The rest is a blur.

I have no idea how much time is passed, where I am, or where Samu is.

My heart skips at the possibilities that run through my head, simultaneously combing the space for any sort of makeshift weapon. I tune into the sounds around me, listening for any sign of life. Birds chirp in the branches outside. We must be at the shifter camp.

Questions plague my mind as the horror of the attack flashes against my eyelids. The way the horse screeched, the stench of its flesh in the air--Killian, Lei, Draigh, they did nothing. There were three of them, one infected. But they did nothing to protect the horse.

Here, in the probable nest of a shifter camp, my options are limited. I can wait till somebody comes to retrieve me, or I can try and find Samu myself. The thought sends a spike of adrenaline through my veins as I stare at the flapping tent entrance. The past few days feel like a distant dream, my reality not quite sinking in as I consider what could be waiting beyond the flap.

A shifter camp. Torinnians. The enemy.

I brush the tent flap back. Shades of green fill my view, the rustling of the wind beckoning me further. I step through the entrance. I'm alone. The afternoon sun pierces through the canopy of trees. As I turn, eyes cast to the sky, I mark the cliff face behind the tent towering high above, nearly blocking the sun. Not even the trees measure against its height. A short and sharp drop. Nothing like the rugged, pointed mountains that lingered in the backdrop of my childhood.

Taking a deep breath, my eyes trail across the earth. The vegetation, while varying shades of green, is drastically different from the forests in Veymaw. Thick, tall trunks span out with leaves at their tops like a canopy. Eyeing the ground, I snatch a broken branch that's jagged at the end, turning it over in my hands.

"You're awake."

I jump, head darting in the direction of the voice as I brandish the sharp end of the stick towards it. The shifter girl, Lei, stands in the treeline just behind the tent. I eye her warily, not dropping my guard.

"How are you feeling?" she asks.

She hadn't been there just moments before.

I narrow my eyes. "Where's Samu?"

"He's safe."

For the first time since we met, I take a moment to examine her more closely. She's changed since I last saw her, the black clothing exchanged for a lighter, linen material that contrasts the midnight of her hair. There was once a time when I believed I could detect the animal beneath a shifter's skin. I saw it in Councilor Tetterman, I felt it in Elora. It was in the way they moved. The way they looked at us.

But now, after being fooled by Killian for so many months, I wonder if it were all a figment of my imagination. I knew he was graceful and lethal. But his eyes were warm, his hands soft. And no matter how closely I examine Lei, I can't detect the monster I know brews beneath her skin.

The same kind of monster that devoured that horse.

On the surface, are they really any different? Or is it the knowledge of what they were that makes you imagine things that aren't really there?

"Take me to him," I say eventually.

Her eyes drift to the stick pointed towards her. "You may want to leave that here. I'm not so sure my people will warm to such hostility."

"I have no intentions of trying to warm to your people."

Her expression gives no indication of irritation. After a few seconds, she shrugs, turning without another word. I hesitate before following after her. Along the small path toward the cliff face, she walks with her hands in her pockets, entirely unthreatened. I don't drop the stick.

​​The vegetation thins as we continue forward, the path eventually wearing down into trodden, tall grass as the incline increases. Away from the shelter of the dense trees, a breeze picks up, whipping my hair across my face. I swipe it from my eyes as Lei pauses atop the rounded mound. After a few more steps, I manage to peer down the hill.

A small cove rests below, sheltered by a tall sand bank and the cliff towering behind us. Waves crash against jagged rocks poking through the ocean like teeth, chewing the black sand on the beach. In front of the sand bank, still in the tall grass, is a camp gathered across the landscape. I try to mask my nerves as I stare down. There are at least 20 tents set up like the one I awoke in, and even from above, I can see several people loitering around the beach.

Shifters. Not only that, but Torinnian shifters. Here in Elel. A chill runs down my spine.

"You coming?" Lei is already halfway down the sand bank.

I swallow my nerves, following her with a tight grip on my pointed stick. A salty scent hangs in the air. I've never been to the coast before; it was never a convenient destination from Veymaw, located far inland of Elel. When I was younger, I used to dream of the vastness of the ocean—traveling the world and going aboard ships to different countries. As I grew older, that dream shrunk until it was nothing more than a wistful thought. I never thought I'd come to the coast.

People start to notice us. They turn to stare as we get closer, entirely unbothered being caught. It reminds me of the way Killian stared when we first met. I keep my chin high, grip tight on my pathetic makeshift weapon, and avoid their gazes. One foot in front of the other. Quick pace. That way, they won't see the way my knees tremble.

Lei leads me through the maze of tents. Smoke hangs thick in the air, mixed with the salt. Whispers follow us, but I pay them no mind as Lei comes to a halt affront a smaller tent in the middle of the cluster. She turns to look at me before brushing the sheet back.

Stepping past her, I scan the interior. A thick quilt covers the sandy earth, giving the illusion of a tartan floor. My heart skips a beat as I find Samu, resting atop a brown cot in the corner of the tent. My feet feel glued to the spot as I stare at him, noting the rise and fall of his chest, the clean clothes, the pink skin.

I stumble towards him, putting a hand on his arm tucked by his sides. His hair is no longer stringy but back to its golden curls. I'm afraid to touch him as if disturbing the sense of serenity will make him ill. Lei said that the healers could help him, maybe figure out why he isn't waking up, but he remains asleep.

"Why is he still unconscious?" I demand, turning to look back at Lei.

She stands stoic in the entryway. "I'm not a healer. I don't know."

"Where's Killian? He promised there'd be help for Samu here."

"He's... currently occupied."

I sigh in frustration, turning back to look at Samu. I hate the glimmer of curiosity at whatever Killian is occupied with. I shouldn't care about his life, the one he hid all this time, and yet it irks me that while he knows me, I don't know him.

"What a pleasure it is to finally meet you, Freya."

When I turn, a woman stands in Lei's place. I immediately roll my shoulders back as two men come into the tent after her, eyeing me up. Her black hair is braided close to her scalp, dark eyes like knives as they cut across the tent to me. She can't be much older than me, and yet in comparison to her well-fitted, black combat clothing, I've never felt more juvenile.

"Are you the healer?"

"My name is Sanaa."

"I don't care what your name is," I snap. "Can you help my brother?"

Both men at her sides tense as she regards me with a cool expression. The tilt of her chin, the purse of her lips--she's used to receiving a much warmer welcome than the one I offer. She takes two small steps forward, but they feel like a mile.

I shrink backward.

"Lei did warn me of your manners," she says, though her lips twitch upwards into a half smile. "I'm no healer, Freya."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"My name is Sanaa Okele. Daughter of Queens Meara and Ariene of Torinne."

Her words settle like falling dust in the silence. My walls, already up and shielding me, thicken three inches. The guards at her sides, the air of power radiating off her--it sets me even more on edge, something I didn't realise was still possible. If there's anything I hate more than shifters, it's Royals. I learned that lesson with King Ereon already.

"And where are your parents now?" I ask.

"Dead."

Her callous tone shocks me more than the response. I don't know much, if anything at all, about the Royal Family of Torinne. We were only ever taught in school about the affairs in Elel, and the occasional victory we had over Torinne during the war. But if both the Queens of Torinne are dead, and she is their daughter, what does that make her?

"I've heard much about you," she says.

I watch her closely as she moves about the tent. Her beauty, her grace, it's undeniable. But I don't let it lead me to any conclusions about her intentions.

"Where's your healer?" I ask. "Killian promised that if I came here, you'd be able to help my brother."

"Did he?"

"Yes."

"Killian has a habit of doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Making promises that I'm completely unaware of."

My heart heaves in my chest. There's a fondness in the smile on her lips. I still have no idea what role Killian plays in their hierarchy, but whatever it is, he's important enough that he's in close communication with her. The only living Royal left.

"Are you saying you won't help Samu?"

"I think we can help each other."

I narrow my eyes. "You mean you won't help me without something in return."

"We're on the same side, Freya."

"Allies don't blackmail one another."

She tilts her chin, thick lashes casting shadows beneath her eyes. The way she guards her thoughts makes me think of Killian. I can't get a read on her.

"I understand this is a... difficult time for you," she says.

"You don't know anything about me."

"I know that you care about your people. That you want to help them."

"I just want to go home."

She doesn't say anything for a long while, her gaze steady. Eventually, she lets out a long, low sigh. "Lei will show you around the camp. When you're ready to talk, I'll find you."

She turns back to the entrance. "And if I don't?" I call. "Will you keep me a prisoner here forever?"

"That's the thing, Freya." She looks at me over her shoulder. "Elel doesn't have forever."