Chapter 4 - Questions

Irene

Cassian studies me like a puzzle he refuses to be beaten by. “Irene,” he says, my name a measured weight. “When you say you came from the forest—how long have you been walking?”

I shake my head. Time has passed since the fall. “I don’t know. Since the sun was high.” I swallow. “I was trying to climb back. I couldn’t. I got turned around.”

Rowan’s gaze flicks toward the treeline I emerged from; his nostrils flare like he’s scenting my path. “You crossed the river, then climbed .” He sounds almost impressed. “Most men wouldn’t risk that.”

“I didn’t mean to risk anything,” I say. “I meant to survive.”

Something like approval ghosts through Rowan’s eyes before he hides it. “Fair.”

The third one tilts his head, worry creasing his brow. “ My name is Elias” he says, coming closer. “You need water.” He gestures to a boy at the edge of the clearing. “Bring a flask. And bread.”

“I can stand,” I start, but the words dissolve as another pain lances through my side. Aria flattens in my mind, a low whine. Rest. Just for a moment.

I accept the flask with shaking hands and drink until the world stops tilting. The bread is fresh and blessedly real in my mouth. A few crumbs stick to my lip; Elias reaches, pauses, then lets me swipe them away myself. The restraint unknots something tight in my chest.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” The question slips out before I can catch it. “Like I’m… wrong.”

Rowan’s smirk falters. His voice drops. “Because you shouldn’t be here.”

“Why?” The word comes out sharper than I intend. “Because I’m an Omega? You have plenty of those.” I glance around, but not a single face reads as soft. Everyone is cut from battle and work and weather. “Because I’m hurt? I’ll heal.”

Cassian’s eyes flick—once—to my mouth, then back to my eyes. I can’t read the calculation. “It isn’t that.”

“What is it, then?”

Silence threads between them. A muscle jumps in Cassian’s cheek. Rowan looks away first. Elias’s jaw works, then eases.

“Later,” Cassian says at last. “You need rest before answers.”

“I need truth,” I say, and surprise myself with the steel in my voice.

Rowan huffs a breath—almost a laugh. “She’s got a spine.”

Elias’s mouth curves, quick and gone. “Come sit by the fire. Warm up. We’ll talk.”

I hesitate. A day ago, hands that promised safety shoved me into the dirt. A day ago, the men bound to me by the Goddess cracked my ribs with their boots. My fingers tighten on the cloak.

Aria touches the edges of my mind, a weary nudge. We choose again, every time. Choose this for now.

I nod. Elias guides me without touching—just enough distance to make the choice mine. I lower myself onto a flat stone near the fire. Heat crawls into my bones, steam lifting from the ends of my hair. The men in the clearing pretend not to stare and fail at it.

Cassian stands at my left , like a commander on the edge of a battlefield, guarding a line no one else can see. Rowan sits on my right, his curiosity barely caged. Elias crouches across from me, equal parts watchful and kind.

“Tell us what you can,” Cassian says, softer now but no less firm.

I pick at the edge of the cloak. “I fell,” I say. “I shouldn’t have lived. But I did. I walked until I found you.”

“From which ridge?” Rowan asks.

“I don’t know.” My voice thins. “I’m not trying to hide a path.”

“You’re trying to hide a wound,” he says, not unkindly.

Elias shifts, gaze gentling. “You don’t have to tell us that part yet.”

I look up at him. His eyes don’t flinch from my split lip, from the scabbed lines I know are seared into the skin beneath my dress. He doesn’t ask, who did this to you? He asks, are you ready to be asked? The difference puts heat behind my eyes.

“I came from the forest,” I repeat, steadier. “That’s all I’ll say today.”

Cassian inclines his head like I’ve passed an agreement he offered. “Then that’s enough.”

The wind shifts. The smoke turns, and with it a handful of heads in the clearing. I feel their stares like a weight across my shoulders. A low murmur runs through them—curiosity, awe, fear—all tangled.

“Why do they keep looking at me?” I ask quietly.

Rowan answers without his usual edge. “Because you’re a question none of us has the answer to.” His gaze snags on mine, his hazel eyes, now serious. “And because some things we thought were gone don’t walk out of the trees.”

Elias’s hand tightens over his knee. Cassian’s shoulders draw back a fraction, like he’s bracing for a storm.

My skin prickles. “What things?”

Cassian shakes his head once. “Later,” he says again, but there’s a crack in the word now. “You’ll have answers. Not here. Not cold and shaking.”

I look from one brother to the next. Stone. Knife. Warmth. All three staring like I’m a fault line running under their camp.

For the first time since the cliff, the panic in my chest loosens. Not because I’m safe. Because I’m seen.

Not invisible. Not trash.

A question that makes warriors forget their drills.

I pull the cloak tighter and edge closer to the fire. Around us, the camp slowly remembers to breathe. Above us, the grey sky deepens toward evening, and the thick forest presses close, as if listening.

Aria settles at last, a tired curl of warmth at the back of my mind. Rest, she whispers. Answers will hunt us soon enough.

I stare into the flames and try to believe her.