Ashara stared down at the drenched, unconscious vampire sprawled out on the riverbank in front of her, his pale skin gleaming under the moonlight like washed-out porcelain. Beside her, Onyx sniffed at Astarion with a slow, deliberate inhale, his ears twitching back with curiosity.

"He isn't breathing," Onyx observed, his voice a low rumble in her mind.

Ashara raised an eyebrow, casting a sidelong glance at her wolf companion. "Isn't that normal for undead?"

Onyx shook his head, his golden eyes fixed on her. "Vampires are different. They can and still do breathe. While they don't need air to live, it keeps them conscious. He won't die, but if you want him to wake sooner, he'll need air from your lungs."

Ashara's face twisted with reluctance. "Can't we just... wait?"

Onyx huffed. "We could, but if we're to reach the Emerald Grove by noon, we'd best leave now."

She glanced down, her lips pressed thin. "Can you do it?"

Onyx let out a wry, gruff sound that might have been a laugh. "I'm afraid my mouth is the wrong shape for this task."

With a resigned sigh, she knelt beside Astarion, pinching his nose as she took a deep breath. Her mouth covered his, and she exhaled, feeling his chest rise faintly beneath her hand. She paused, bracing herself before taking another breath, and as she breathed into him a second time, she felt him stir. Ashara pulled back as he jerked, rolling onto his side with a shuddering cough, water pouring from his mouth.

"Just breathe," she murmured softly, resting a hand on his back as he gasped and trembled, his chest heaving as he purged the river water.

He coughed, the last of the water spilling free, but before Ashara could react, Astarion twisted around, moving with a speed that stunned her. In an instant, he had her dagger - pulled from her own belt - pressed to her throat, and she found herself pushed against the earth, the cold blade biting against her neck. Astarion's eyes were wide, wild with fear and pain, his hand trembling as he snarled down at her.

"Don't touch me!"

Ashara froze, shock tightening her throat as she stared up at him. Onyx responded with a menacing snarl, his hackles raised, every muscle in his body coiled to spring. Astarion's eyes flicked up at him, the dagger pressing closer to Ashara's neck.

"Call off your dog. Now," he demanded, voice edged with desperation.

Ashara's gaze hardened, her voice laced with both indignation and defiance. "He's not a dog, you ungrateful, stinking bullywug!"

Something flickered in Astarion's eyes, and the pressure on her neck slackened just slightly. His mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly. "Did you just call me... a bullywug?"

Ashara noticed the wild panic in his eyes begin to ebb, softening into something more bemused than hostile. She took a gamble, letting humor edge her voice, hoping to dispel the remnants of his fear. "Yes. Because only a bullywug would threaten someone who just saved their life. I must've made a mistake - clearly, you're not the vampire who begged for my help." She jerked her head toward the river. "I'll just put you back where you belong, then, shall I?"

Astarion blinked, visibly thrown, and finally lowered the dagger. He looked away, seemingly ashamed, and cast a quick, wary glance at Onyx, who remained tense. With a frustrated sigh, he tossed the dagger onto the ground and moved a few steps away, collapsing into a dejected heap on the gravel.

"What's the point?" he muttered, voice laced with exhaustion. "If I kill you, the wolf will tear me to shreds. And after threatening you, you'll probably just end up wanting to kill me yourself."

Ashara sat up, brushing the damp soil from her sleeves as she regarded him. "Can I suggest a third option?"

Astarion looked up, his expression hollow. "If you're about to suggest I join you on some grand quest to cure yourself of an Illithid tadpole... don't bother. I already tried that once. It didn't end well."

He hugged his knees to his chest, bitterness darkening his eyes. "Gods... I can't believe I trusted them."

Ashara tilted her head, curiosity piqued. "Tadpole?"

Astarion snorted, a sound devoid of humor. "Oh, wonderful. You're not even infected. Nice of the universe to rub salt in the wound."

Ashara gave him a perplexed look. "You're not making much sense."

He sighed, the sound heavy with an old, unshakeable weight. "Am I not? Perhaps it's because I don't care anymore. I finally escape Cazador's grasp, only to find that nothing has changed. I'm still just something to be bought, sold, and used."

Ashara's gaze softened as she watched him shiver, his form visibly trembling in the night air. Quietly, she reached into her bag of holding, feeling around its enchanted depths until her fingers brushed a soft rabbit-fur cloak. She pulled it free and approached him, draping it carefully over his shoulders. He flinched at the touch, his eyes snapping up to her, wary and defensive. She quickly stepped back, raising her hands.

"I didn't touch you," she said calmly. "I just thought you might want that."

Astarion blinked, his eyes widening slightly as he glanced down at the cloak now wrapped around him. He hesitated, then muttered, "I... I wasn't actually cold."

She shrugged, reaching out as if to take it back, but he gripped it, pulling it around himself with a determined gesture. "It is a bit chilly though, and I am soaked to the bone..."

Ashara paused, watching him settle into the cloak with something like a fragile relief. "Need it or don't need it - it's yours now."

Astarion stiffened, his gaze sharpening with suspicion. "Why? What do you want from me?"

Ashara's confusion was genuine as she looked back at Onyx, who had settled beside her, his eyes never leaving the vampire.

"Does a gift have to have a reason?"

Astarion's eyes narrowed, distrust plain as day. "In my experience... yes."

Onyx tilted his head, his golden eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he observed the vampire. "He thinks you're trying to buy some kind of service from him in exchange for kindness."

Ashara's eyes widened, a pang of sadness tightening her chest as she looked at Astarion. "Has no one ever given you a gift before?"

A faint, bitter smile ghosted across his lips. "Oh, I've been given plenty of gifts," he replied, his voice a sarcastic murmur. "But they were usually only given after I'd earned them."

Ashara's hand moved gently over Onyx's thick fur as she regarded Astarion with a mixture of sympathy and frustration. "So... you've never had someone just do something nice for you, without expecting anything in return?"

He averted his gaze, his shoulders tightening beneath the cloak as he looked out toward the river. "No."

Ashara exhaled, a low whistle of disbelief escaping her lips. "Wow... your life sounds depressing."

Astarion let out a dry chuckle, his mouth curling into a wry, humorless smile. "Depressing doesn't even begin to cover it, darling."

A low, dangerous growl rumbled through the air as Onyx glared at Astarion, inching closer, his golden eyes narrowed with unmistakable warning. The vampire tensed, edging back slightly, his gaze flickering with alarm.

"Why is he looking at me like that?" he muttered, his voice carrying a wary edge.

Onyx's growl deepened, turning into a low snarl. "He should not use such a familiar term with you."

Ashara's lips quirked as she interpreted. "I don't think he liked you calling me 'darling.'"

Astarion raised his hands defensively, caught off guard. "Wait... he can understand me? Is he a druid?"

Ashara chuckled, shaking her head. "No. He's just... really clever."

Astarion glanced at Onyx, skepticism mingling with intrigue, but he wisely held his tongue. The silence stretched, punctuated only by the bubbling river sounds and the quiet rustle of leaves overhead.

Then Ashara took a breath, turning her gaze back to Astarion. "What did you mean earlier about an Illithid tadpole?"

Astarion's expression shifted, a look of disbelief mingling with faint irritation. "Have you been living under a rock for the past few weeks?"

She shrugged casually. "No. In the woods."

To her surprise, a faint smile ghosted across his face, a momentary softening in his guarded gaze. "You sound like a Githyanki I once knew."

As quickly as it appeared, the softness faded as he continued."Mindflayers have been snatching people all over Faerûn, infecting them with parasites that, if left unchecked, turn the host into one of them. I'm—" His words caught, his face paling further as realization struck.

"Oh shit..." He dropped his head into his hands, gripping his hair, as his eyes widened with a flash of fear. "I forgot. It was the artifact that was keeping me from transforming."

A choked laugh escaped him, strained and bitter. "You probably should have just left me in the river... I'm liable to start sprouting tentacles any moment."

Ashara's brow furrowed, her arms crossing as she regarded him intently. "Alright. I'm going to need an explanation for that sentence."

He threw her a frustrated glance, his patience visibly fraying. "I'm infected. So was the group I was originally traveling with. They have an artifact - some sort of relic that holds a being capable of shielding us from the process. Now that I'm no longer with them... I'm probably out of its range."

Ashara's gaze sharpened as she took in his words. "Why aren't you still travelling with them?"

Astarion's expression darkened, his features hardening with barely concealed rage. "Because the Dragonborn bastard leading them is a piece of shit. He knew I was a vampire from the start, even promised to keep it quiet - but then he put on this performance, all righteous and wounded, and handed me over to that Gur, pretending it was for the 'good of the team.' To protect them from a 'monster.'" Astarion's fist struck the ground, sending a small spray of dirt scattering.

"The only monster around was him," he hissed, his voice thick with anger. "I could almost pity the fools following him if they hadn't just stood by, watching, while he betrayed me."

A low, simmering growl erupted from Onyx, his golden eyes flashing with rare, ferocious anger. "To abandon a pack member like that is shameful. This Dragonborn is not a true leader."

Astarion's head jerked up, frowning. "Now what did I say?"

Ashara sank down beside him, crossing her legs and letting her hands rest on her knees. "He doesn't like how you were treated. Wolves don't betray each other. They look out for one another and only travel as fast as their slowest pack member."

Astarion scoffed, indignant. "I wasn't the slowest one."

She rolled her eyes. "You're missing the point. Strong, weak, clever, dumb - it doesn't matter in a wolf pack. Every member is valued. Onyx and I are a pack, and we would never betray each other, no matter what."

Silence settled between them, thick with the weight of all that had gone unsaid. Ashara's gaze lingered on Astarion, noting the faint tremor in his hands as he held her cloak tightly around himself, as though it might ward off something far colder than the night air. His eyes grew distant, troubled, and for a moment, she thought he might not speak again. But then he glanced at her, hesitant, his voice softer than she'd yet heard.

"Why... why did you come back for me?" His tone was edged with suspicion, and yet something vulnerable glinted beneath it. "You seemed pretty unconcerned about my fate, back when I was with the Gur."

Ashara frowned, her brow knitting as she tried to put her answer into words. "That's not entirely true. I was concerned - I don't like seeing anything or anyone in a cage." Her gaze dropped briefly to her hands, rough from the forest, stained from the soil. "But... stealing children? That's a pretty monstrous thing to do. I couldn't ignore that."

Astarion's jaw clenched, his expression sour. "Well, on that we can agree. But you're forgetting that I didn't have a choice in the matter."

"Everyone always has a choice," she replied bluntly, meeting his gaze without flinching. "You chose badly."

A spark of frustration lit his gaze, and his scowl deepened as he bristled, anger flaring. "Well, how lovely for everyone else. Except, as a vampire spawn, I literally have no choice. Cazador speaks, and I obey. I'm like a puppet, bound to his will, body and soul. I have no free will of my own to make choices that everyone else takes for granted - right or wrong."

His anger subsided, but a bitter, twisted smile replaced it. "Or at least that's how it used to be. Now that I've got this lovely little tadpole squirming around in my brain, his commands don't seem to reach me. It's like I'm finally lost to him - and I'll be damned if I let anyone else control me ever again."

Ashara watched him, subdued, as his words struck a familiar chord. She knew the feeling of chains - visible or unseen. "Then I'm even sorrier for not helping you sooner. I didn't realize vampire lords could control their spawn like that."

Astarion's lips twisted into a wry smile, his tone laced with condescension, though it lacked its usual bite. "Your ignorance is forgiven... considering I owe you for eventually deciding to help."

She shrugged, a small smile playing at her lips. "I wasn't planning to. You just happened to be captured by the same orc raiders I'd been tracking all day."

Astarion's mouth fell open for a moment, then he rubbed his eyes with a weary sigh. "That's... well, that's slightly less reassuring. But at least you're honest. That's something, I suppose."

Ashara's expression softened, her voice lowering. "Despite how I felt about you and what you did, I couldn't just stand by and let those two orcs go through with what they had planned."

Astarion stilled, his body tensing as he processed her words. He turned his head slowly, a blank expression masking the tight discomfort she could see behind his eyes. "You... saw that."

"Yes," she answered quietly, a steely resolve in her voice. "And 'that' is the reason they're all dead now."

His breath hitched, a flash of surprise crossing his features before he looked at her sharply, as though trying to comprehend her motives. A glint of gratitude warred with confusion in his gaze, but suspicion lingered, carving lines of weariness into his face.

"You destroyed a whole warband of orcs... for me?"

Ashara met his stare unflinchingly. "I hate cages, but I despise rapists even more. This particular warband has left behind many broken souls."

Astarion swallowed, looking away as he wrapped the cloak tighter around himself, as though shielding himself from her words. They sat in silence, the dark night air thick with the unspoken. Ashara didn't press him, giving him space as he stared at the ground, his shoulders tense, defensive.

Gradually, his posture eased, his shoulders relaxing, and after a long pause, he murmured under his breath, barely audible, "What would I have to do..."

Ashara glanced at him, sensing the weight of something unspoken. He cleared his throat, speaking louder, though a hint of uncertainty lingered in his voice.

"What would I have to do to - temporarily - become a member of your pack?"

Ashara tilted her head, studying him with interest. "You still want to trust us after everything you've been through?"

Astarion let out a humorless laugh, his lips twisting into a grim smile. "Oh, I don't trust you or anyone else. But I also don't have much choice. Cazador is clearly looking for me, and isn't above hiring scum like those raiders."

He cast a sidelong glance at her. "And while it's entirely possible you've been hired to capture me too, I'm choosing to assume that if you wanted me, you'd have taken me from that Gur without all this... effort."

Onyx's solemn nod seemed to amuse Astarion, and his mouth quirked slightly, the faintest glimmer of a smile flickering across his face.

"Not to mention," Astarion added with a hint of dark humor, "there is the little matter of saving my - well, perhaps not my life, but certainly my sanity. I'm particularly glad not to spend an eternity trapped underwater."

Ashara raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Would you have just kept drowning? Over and over?"

Astarion shot her a withering look. "Yes... thank you for putting that lovely thought into words."

She cocked her head, frowning. "How is drowning for eternity a lovely thought? That sounds terrifying to me."

The vampire blinked, his brow furrowing as he eyed her, baffled. "I take it sarcasm isn't common where you come from?"

"Oh..." Ashara gave a sheepish grin. "Sorry, I don't always pick up on that."

"Really? I'd never have guessed," he muttered, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

Beside her, Onyx turned his head, scratching furiously at his ear. Ashara could hear his huffing breaths and knew he was trying to stifle a laugh.

Ashara sighed, a hint of a smile on her face. "You were being sarcastic again, weren't you?"

Astarion groaned, pressing his fingers to his temple. "I'm already regretting this."

He took a deep breath, as if gathering the last remnants of his resolve. "Look, what I'm trying to say is that I'd rather take my chances with you than face whatever else is waiting for me... if you'll have me."

Ashara leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees, her expression contemplative. "Well, my original plan was to take you somewhere remote, far from innocent people, and let you fend for yourself. But Onyx said that would probably make you angry and vengeful."

Astarion's jaw dropped, and he let out a strangled laugh, an incredulous sound that verged on genuine amusement. "Yes... that would most definitely piss me off."

A grin tugged at her lips, and they shared a moment of reluctant understanding. She glanced at Onyx, who offered a wolfish shrug.

"This is your decision," Onyx murmured, his tone warm with reassurance. "I will follow your lead."

Ashara stood, brushing bits of river mud from her sleeves as she fixed her gaze on Astarion. "It sounds like you may have more information about a possible explanation for the missing people I'm looking for. If they were infected by mindflayers like you, then it's likely they're searching for a cure too."

She extended a hand to him. "If you join us, I'll help you find something - or someone - to rid you of that parasite. Chances are, we'll run into others in the same predicament along the way."

Astarion's mouth twisted in a grimace. "That's what I'm afraid of."

He hesitated, his gaze shifting to her outstretched hand before he rose on his own, ignoring the gesture. For a moment, they stood in silence, a tentative truce settling between them.

"Hypothetically..." he began, a sly edge in his tone, "if we were to come across my former traveling companions, what would your reaction be if I were to... oh, I don't know... murder the son of a b - uh, bear who betrayed me?"

Ashara shrugged, her tone casual. "It sounds like those traveling with him might need protecting from their leaders deception, so I'd probably help you kill him."

He looked genuinely pleased with her answer, then tilted his head thoughtfully. "And if my old master came to personally drag me back to Baldur's Gate? Would being part of your 'pack' protect me?"

Onyx let out a low, rumbling growl, his fangs flashing as he bared his teeth. Astarion flinched, though he quickly recovered, his gaze wary.

In response, Ashara conveyed Onyx's fierce loyalty. "Onyx says he'll tear this Cazador to pieces if he threatens us."

Astarion looked at the wolf with new respect, nodding before clearing his throat, his bemused smirk returning. "So... do I get an initiation ceremony? Secret handshake, blood ritual, stand on a cliff and howl at the moon?"

Ashara fought to contain a laugh, catching the mischievous glint in his eyes. Beneath the anger and mistrust, she glimpsed a sharp wit, a humor that had somehow survived everything he'd endured.

"We're not werewolves," she replied, crossing her arms with a grin. "And this isn't a story from one of Volo's ridiculous guides." Her gaze softened, though she met his with steely resolve. "While my gifts may come without a price, as an outsider, you're still going to have to earn your place."

Astarion glanced at Onyx, who observed him with a steady, discerning gaze. "And I suppose the wolf gets the final vote?"

Ashara nodded, smiling. "Always."

Astarion frowned, his gaze shifting from Ashara to Onyx with clear unease. "I wish I could hear him though. It's rather unnerving to know someone's talking about you and not being able to understand them. I don't suppose you have a potion of animal speaking in that bag of yours, do you?"

Ashara ruffled Onyx's fur affectionately and turned her gaze to Astarion. "Hearing him is easy. You just have to stop being afraid of him."

Astarion blinked, his expression incredulous. "I beg your pardon?"

Without another word, Ashara grasped the thick fur at Onyx's neck and swung herself up onto his back with a graceful, practiced motion. She reached down, extending a hand to Astarion. "His words will not find you if you encircle your heart with walls of fear," she said calmly. "Trust him, and understanding will soon follow."

He stared at her hand, then glanced at Onyx, who watched him with an inscrutable golden gaze. Te idea of riding on the back of the massive direwolf made his stomach clench. "Um... you want me to... ride him? With you?"

"Yes, he's strong enough to carry us both."

Astarion narrowed his eyes, a touch of wariness coloring his tone. "Does he also frequently have a habit of turning into a monstrous, skull-headed demon wolf?"

Ashara's face remained impassive. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. He's just a regular giant magical direwolf."

Onyx let out a low rumble, curling his lip ever so slightly to flash a sharp fang in Astarion's direction. The vampire hesitated, muttering, "Right... nothing to fear at all."

After a tense moment, he took Ashara's hand, and she pulled him up onto Onyx's back behind her. The sensation of the wolf's muscles shifting beneath him was strange, a visceral reminder of the sheer power coiled in the creature he now straddled.

The closeness to Ashara made him suddenly, acutely aware of her warmth, the steady beat of her pulse at her neck - a reminder of his gnawing hunger. His gaze drifted to that vulnerable spot just below her jaw, the rhythm of her heartbeat tugging at him, stirring the need he'd been fighting since his escape. He swallowed, gritting his teeth as he tried to force the craving down.

Before he could steady himself, Onyx rose swiftly, the sudden movement throwing him against her back. He gasped, instinctively gripping her waist to keep himself from falling. The closeness, combined with the scent of her blood just beneath her skin, was too much.

"Actually, you know what," he blurted, his voice more frantic than he intended, "I think it's better if I just... walk. Or run, perhaps. I've never been good at riding horses, and this is... infinitely worse."

Ashara glanced back, her tone patient. "Just hold onto me, and you'll be fine."

Astarion forced himself to take shallow breaths, but the craving gnawed at him, a steady drumbeat that grew louder by the moment. It had been far too long since he'd last fed, and proximity to Ashara only made the need sharper, more unbearable. Desperate to keep his composure, he shifted, trying to dismount.

"No, no, I really think it's best if I walk," he babbled. "I've been sat in a cage for days - I could do with the exercise."

Onyx's head turned slightly, his golden eyes fixed on him, and Astarion noted Ashara was listening to the wolf intently. She twisted around, her gaze landing on him with unnerving accuracy.

"Were you thinking about biting me?"

Astarion muttered, half-defensive, "I'm always thinking about biting someone."

Ashara raised an eyebrow, though her gaze softened with understanding. He added hastily, "I don't specifically want to bite you, per se. It's just... being this close is somewhat... distracting. My self-control isn't exactly at its peak right now."

"How much blood would you need to... not be distracted?" she asked, her tone curious, not fearful.

The question caught him off guard, sparking a flicker of hope. "Why?" He paused, unable to hide a faint, wry grin. "Are you volunteering some?"

Before she could answer, Onyx let out a low growl, a deep rumble that vibrated through Astarion's body. He tensed, quickly backtracking. "Never mind. I'll just... grit my teeth and endure it."

Ashara considered him, then shrugged, as though the solution were simple. "You don't have to do that. Onyx doesn't want you feeding on me." She paused, glancing at the wolf. "But he doesn't mind if you want to take some of his blood."

Astarion stared at her, dumbfounded, then looked down at Onyx, who met his gaze with calm, unblinking acceptance. "Really?"

In answer, Onyx sank down onto his haunches, lowering himself to make it easier for Astarion to dismount. With hesitant steps, he moved closer, feeling acutely vulnerable as he knelt beside the massive wolf. Onyx was the size of a cave bear, his sheer strength undeniable, and yet he lay there, placid and composed, even dipping his head slightly to grant access.

Ashara's voice came gently, calm and guiding, cut through his hesitation "He says the fur is thinnest just under his ear."

Astarion took a steadying breath, reaching up to part the fur beneath Onyx's ear, exposing a small patch of skin where a vein pulsed just below the surface. His heart pounded, but he steeled himself, muttering under his breath, "Here goes nothing..."

He bit down, expecting resistance, a snap, or growl - but Onyx didn't flinch. The blood flowed rich and warm, deeper and more potent than any animal he'd tasted before. It held an essence that was oddly... wise, a powerful vitality unlike anything he'd ever known. He wondered, briefly, if Onyx would be considered a "thinking being" forbidden by Cazador's cruel law. The thought nagged at him, but as he drank, the strength flooding into his veins dulled his doubts.

He drank deeply, the pleasure of it soothing his frayed nerves, the ache in his body melting away. Time slipped by, his mind lulled by the simple, primal satisfaction of fully sating his hunger. But gradually, a prickling sense of unease began to creep in, pulling him back to awareness as he realised just how long he'd been feeding.

He lifted his head, glancing at Onyx in surprise. The wolf watched him out of the corner of his eye, fully conscious, as calm as if nothing unusual had occurred.

"Dear gods..." Astarion whispered, wiping his mouth. "How much blood do you have in you?"

A faint tickle at the edge of his mind made him blink. Then a voice, rich with amusement, drifted into his thoughts.

"More than you can ever drink, little spawn."

Astarion stiffened, his eyes widening as he stared at Onyx. "I... I can hear you."

Onyx nuzzled his shoulder, a quiet, comforting gesture. "Because you no longer fear me."

Astarion huffed out a breath, a startled laugh escaping him. "I'm fairly certain I'm still terrified of you."

Onyx's voice, warm yet resolute, responded with quiet certainty. "Perhaps in your head, but not your heart."

Astarion looked up, catching Ashara's gaze as she observed him with a gentle smile, a sense of acceptance radiating from her.

"Welcome to my pack, Astarion." Her voice was steady, her words simple yet brimming with an unspoken promise.

For a moment, he was speechless, struck by the strangeness of it all. After a life defined by manipulation, of feigned kindnesses and hidden prices, her acceptance was both unsettling and strangely heartening.

With a faint sigh of resignation, he took her hand and swung himself up behind her again. Once seated, he realized he had no idea where to place his hands. His mind flicked over the options with mounting awkwardness - should he grab the thick fur along Onyx's back? Cling to Ashara's waist? The thought disturbed him, the closeness feeling almost intrusive.

But before he could decide, Onyx rose with a sudden, powerful motion that jolted Astarion forward. Instinct took over, and he clutched Ashara's waist, fingers gripping tight as the wolf shifted into a steady trot.

To his relief, she didn't seem to mind his grip, remaining focused on the path ahead. Her calm steadiness was oddly reassuring, grounding him as the trees slipped by, their shadows stretching long under the moonlight. He forced himself to breathe, to settle into the rhythm of Onyx's stride, his initial discomfort gradually giving way to something close to... ease.

As they ventured deeper into the forest, a quiet peace settled over him, the soft murmur of leaves, the scent of pine, and the occasional hoot of an owl weaving a strange, fragile sense of safety around him. He tightened his grip on Ashara just slightly, feeling the warmth of her through her cloak, the steady rise and fall of her breathing.

And yet, in the stillness of the forest, a single thought rose to the surface, a plea spoken only within the confines of his own mind.

Please let this time be different.