18. Epilogue

Theo doesn’t know these caves, so he blindly follows the man who has lied to him – the Siacchian, Luka Lockehart – through the darkness. The world shrinks to their panting breaths and their pursuers’ footfalls. The girl – Xyla Mobiele – lolls on Theo’s shoulder. She only speaks twice, the first time to ask the Siacchian if he is well – to which the hopiar replies with a strained whine, clearly not.

The second time, Xyla directs her words to Theo.

“Are you going to kill us now, big scary Kiteran barbarian?” Her words are so acerbic, Theo’s surprised they don’t burn.

“Kill you?” Theo repeats. His mind still feels too soft, his thoughts difficult to shape. “Why would I kill you?”

Xyla scoffs. Theo isn’t sure how she manages to sound so incredibly pissed off when she’s nearly immobile and draped over his shoulder like an old rug. “Just a few days before you were holding us prisoner and threatening our lives. Now what – you’re our ally?”

Theo scoffs; though the question is fair, he has no answer.

Now what?

Thankfully, he has plenty of time to consider his answer; the pounding footsteps grow closer and closer, until Xyla groans, “Luka, this can’t be the right way – we need to find another path.” They pull into a tiny alcove, barely large enough for the three of them – especially a beastly Luka – to fit, muffling their breaths as the guards race by. Theo sets Xyla on her feet and she leans against a wall.

They double back when the caverns fall to silence once more, pausing again for rest when Xyla demands it. In the silence that follows, Xyla panting, Luka avoiding his eyes, Theo has nothing to do but think –

What now? What now? What now?

The question tears up the weak scar tissue Theo has laid down to cover the events that took place hours – has it already been hours? – before. Even with the winding distance of the caverns put between Octavian and Linne Lockehart, Theo still aches with betrayal.

All of my worst nightmares have come to pass.

When he emerges from this cavern, what will he have left? His command? No, that is surely gone, stolen by his second, the one he was supposed to trust more than himself.

But you never really trusted Octavian, did you? whispers a tiny voice.

And I was right to do so! Octavian betrayed him. Betrayed him.

Anger sparks in him at the thought. He shouldn’t hurt at all. He should have kept himself closed off to Octavian. Had he done so, maybe he would have seen this coming – maybe he could have stopped it.

They rest for a while, the cool cavern walls damp at his back, before Luka gets to his feet. Theo falls into motion automatically, following him through the winding tunnels. They walk for a long time in silence. The Siacchian huffs but Theo doesn’t look at him.

“Well?” asks Xyla Mobiele. ”Are you going to try and capture us again?” Even with all of the time that has passed, she is still weak from the monkshood.

Theo says to Xyla Mobiele, “I know you’re under the influence of the poison, but my second betrayed me back there. I’m not your ally, but I’m not your enemy. We just both need to escape – I will find my soldiers and –”

His words stutter to a halt as they burst into the world outside, a gory twilight darkening the sky to shades of scarlet. It takes a few disoriented blinks for Theo to place where they have emerged; a side entrance that must be some distance from the main gates that the Kiterans occupied with their siege. But even from where they stand, Theo can hear the victory songs of his people.

Disbelief grips him. Theo walks around the curve of the wall. In the distance, he can see his people – celebrating.

They just don’t realize he’s missing.

Theo takes one step and then another, determined to correct them. He will tell them of Octavian’s betrayal. He is their leader, and they will believe him.

But he jerks to a halt, his keen eyes narrowing as he takes in the sight of the great gates of Cesscounthe parting – and a trio of people emerging.

One of which is a heavily bandaged woman and the other – a scarred man.

No.

Linne Lockehart can’t possibly be mobile after such an injury –

But there she stands, Octavian at her side.

This is a dream. This is a dream, and any minute I will wake and have everything again.

As Theo’s nails draw blood from his palms, Octavian and Linne – wounded but victorious – approach Theo’s Kiterans. They are greeted with joy and victorious cries. They are greeted like heroes.

Octavian pulls a scrap of fabric – a scrap of Theo’s bloodied robes – and throws it into the crowd.

Cheers.

Theo’s mouth is too dry. His people are celebrating his downfall.

Suddenly, Theo understands the true extent of Octavian’s treachery. Octavian has been sowing seeds of discontent amongst his soldiers. Octavian has either told Theo’s people that Theo died in the invasion – or, worse, that an injured Theo fled with his Siacchian lover.

Blood drips from Theo’s fists.

His people would believe Octavian.

Theo can’t go back.

Not as he is now.

A soft whine sounds behind him. Something warm and wet brushes against Theo’s bloodied hands – the Siacchian is licking him nervously.

The world roars around Theo as he forces himself to look away from his failure – from all his dreams and desires crumpling into a simple twist of the knife in his back – to look into the Siacchian’s cool silver-blue eyes.

The scream of rage echoing through Theo’s mind halts. Everything quiets. Even the sun itself seems to understand the way the world should still, pausing as it descends into night.

You are a hopiar, Theo thinks as he looks at the man.

You are my mate.

The Siacchian whines again, nuzzling at Theo’s fists.

He’s scenting my anxiety – and offering me comfort.

Despite it all, something blossoms in Theo’s heart. Something he can’t even begin to understand. Softly, he says to the man, to his mate, to his heart: “Evla – er, it’s Luka, right?”

The Siacchian freezes, ears flattening against his skull when Theo speaks his name – his real name – for the first time. But then the sharp scent of his fear fades as Theo only continues to gaze, unable to keep the wonder from his eyes.

Slowly, Luka nods his russet-colored head.

Theo runs a hand through his fur. “You’re no wolf, are you?” he murmurs as he takes in Luka’s smaller stature and white-tipped tail. “What are you?”

“Fox,” Xyla says from behind him.

Fox?

Like the beasts that fled from the north, centuries ago.

Jerked from his reprieve – from the tiny, safe world that existed only in Luka’s gaze – Theo whirls to face the woman. The color has mostly returned to her face, though dark bags still hang beneath her eyes.

“He’s a fox. Like me.” Xyla raises her chin as she meets Theo’s gaze. The clear challenge brings a growl to the back of Theo’s throat, but before he can speak, Xyla drops to her knees, gathering Luka’s head in her arms. She speaks to him in a voice cast so low, Theo can only make out a few scattered words:

“Come with me.”

Terror grips Theo’s heart as his attention darts to Luka – his mate.

You’re the one person who’s supposed to be with me forever.

Luka jerks his head from side to side with a soft whine. Xyla draws away, her eyes wet. “What is he to you?” she hisses.

Luka bows his head, unable to reply, and Theo steps in front of him. “Don’t speak to him like that.”

Xyla crosses her arms over her chest, and Theo realizes with a start that her eyes are wet. “Don’t worry – I’m leaving you both now.” She furiously wipes away her tears.

“Where will you even go?”

Xyla looks back at Cesscounthe. “There’s no place for us here anymore,” she says. “But this was supposed to be our home, Luka. Don’t you remember? This was ours. And I’m not going to let that crazy bitch keep it from us.”

The spark of vengeance in her eyes speaks to Theo. He’s surprised to find himself empathizing with her. “Go North,” he says. “To Akull. Ask to speak to Commander Jennison. Remind him that he owes me a favor. Give no one else my name. Tell anyone else that you have information from the Western front. They – they may give you shelter.”

“They may give me shelter?”

Theo shrugs. “My people are not known for their kindness.”

Xyla narrows her eyes, rubbing her forearms. The cool autumn air only serves to drop in temperature as they approach nightfall. She glances back at Cesscounthe one last time. “And you aren’t going to Kitera.” It’s not a question.

Theo rests a hand on Luka’s head. It’s the perfect height. Luka presses into him.

“No,” Theo says. “We will get our vengeance here, but we’re not ready to head north yet. That’s where Octavian would think we would go first. Instead, we go south. Hessalar. We should be safe there.” So long as we avoid those damned demon princes.

I will need to see the Snake of the South again. The one who took my family from me.

Theo looks at Luka, and once again, the world shrinks to just the two of them. Like before, they are again locked in a Ravage match. Only this time, they are on the same side.

Octavian has made his move. Now it’s up to Luka and Theo to come up with the best countermeasure.

A countermeasure that they will make together.