CHAPTER 13 Hollow Ridge

I read the note three times before I finally looked up at Cassian.

"I'm going," I said.

"No," he said flatly. "Absolutely not."

"They have Petra and that wounded man. If I don't show up, they'll kill them both. You read the note yourself."

"And if you do show up, they kill you instead, and I lose everyone." Cassian's voice was low and hard, the kind of voice that probably made his soldiers freeze on the battlefield. "I'm not letting my wife walk into a trap alone in the middle of the night."

"Then don't let me walk in alone," I said. "Let me walk in looking alone."

He stopped pacing and looked at me.

"They said no guards," I continued. "They didn't say no plan. I go to Hollow Ridge exactly as they asked. You and your men follow at a distance, out of sight, and close in the moment I signal you."

"That depends on them not noticing us."

"Then don't get noticed," I said. "You're a war commander, Cassian. Tell me you can move soldiers quietly through your own territory."

He didn't answer right away, which told me he was already thinking it through instead of arguing.

"Hollow Ridge is old ruins, half collapsed, plenty of cover in the rocks," he finally said. "If my men come in from the northern trail instead of the main road, we could get close without being seen. But it's risky. One wrong step, one loose stone, and they'll know we're there."

"Then we don't take a wrong step."

He studied me for a long moment, something between frustration and reluctant respect flickering across his face.

"You're not doing this because you think you're the only one who can," he said slowly. "You're doing this because you feel responsible. Because Petra got dragged into this trying to protect her brother, and that wounded man trusted you enough to talk."

"They're in danger because of me," I said quietly. "I won't hide in this keep while they pay for it."

Cassian exhaled through his nose. "Fine. But you wear this."

He crossed to a chest near his desk and pulled out a thin silver chain with a small dark stone hanging from it.

"It's spelled," he explained, fastening it around my neck himself. "It won't protect you from a blade, but if you're in real danger, crush the stone in your hand. It sends a signal straight to me. I'll know exactly where you are."

"You had this ready already," I said, surprised.

"I had it made after Lyra died," Cassian admitted quietly. "I told myself I'd never let another wife walk anywhere in this territory without a way to call for help. I just never thought I'd need it this soon."

Midnight came fast.

I rode out alone, exactly as the note demanded, my hood pulled low, my dagger hidden in my sleeve, the small stone pendant cold against my collarbone. Behind me, somewhere in the dark trees, Cassian and a dozen of his most trusted soldiers moved along the northern trail, silent as ghosts.

Hollow Ridge came into view just before midnight, a scattering of broken stone pillars and crumbling walls left over from some ancient fortress long since abandoned. Moonlight spilled over the ruins, casting long, sharp shadows across the ground.

I dismounted at the edge of the ruins and walked in on foot, my heart hammering so hard I was sure it could be heard.

"I'm here," I called out, my voice steady despite the fear crawling up my spine. "Alone, like you asked."

Silence answered me at first. Then, slowly, a figure stepped out from behind one of the broken pillars, wrapped in a dark cloak, face hidden beneath a heavy hood.

"You actually came," the figure said. The voice was low, disguised, impossible to place. "Brave. Or foolish. I haven't decided which yet."

"Where are Petra and the wounded man?"

"Safe. For now." The figure tilted its head slightly. "Whether they stay that way depends on you."

"What do you want?"

"I want you to understand something, Princess." The figure began walking slowly around the edge of the clearing, keeping distance between us. "You think your enemy is Julian Vance, sniveling and pathetic outside your husband's gate. You think your enemy is his lieutenant, sneaking around with letters and threats. You have no idea who you're actually fighting."

"Then tell me," I said. "Since you clearly want me to know."

"All in good time." The figure stopped, standing very still. "First, a trade. You, for them. Walk toward me, and I'll let the servants go free."

"How do I know you'll keep your word?"

"You don't," the figure said simply. "But you don't really have a choice, do you?"

I glanced around the ruins, searching for any sign of movement in the shadows, any hint that Cassian's men were close enough to act. Nothing. Just stone and moonlight and my own ragged breathing.

I took a step forward.

"Aurora, don't," a weak voice called out suddenly from somewhere behind the ruins. Petra, her voice thin and scared, but alive. "It's a trap, don't come any closer—"

A sharp sound cut her off, like a hand clamping over her mouth.

The hooded figure laughed softly. "She was always going to say that."

I froze, my hand inching toward the pendant at my throat.

"Ah, ah," the figure said, raising a hand. "Touch that stone, and I promise you, both of them die before your commander's boots even hit this clearing."

My fingers stopped an inch away from the pendant.

"Smart girl," the figure said, stepping closer now, close enough that moonlight finally caught the edge of their face beneath the hood.

I saw the shape of a jaw. A familiar curl of hair peeking out. My breath caught somewhere in my throat.

"You're wondering who I am," the figure said, reaching up slowly toward the edge of their hood. "Let's stop wondering."

The hood fell back.

My whole body went cold.

It wasn't Julian. It wasn't Marcus. It wasn't Freya, or Baron, or any of the faces I'd spent the last two days suspecting.

It was someone I hadn't even considered. Someone who had stood right beside me, close enough to touch, close enough that I never once thought to guard myself around them.

Someone who had smiled at me, spoken kindly to me, made me believe, even for a moment, that I had found a friend inside these cold stone walls.

"You," I whispered, my voice barely a breath. "It can't be you."

Their smile widened, cold and satisfied in the moonlight.

"Surprised, Princess?" they said softly. "Good. That means I did my job well.”