Part 27

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A/N: Last chapter! Thanks for all the votes and comments. I've loved writing this story! Already have ideas for my next work...either a Peter Pan retelling or something more along the lines of urban fantasy starring a world of Grim Reapers! So stay tuned!

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Zara had insisted on Amalia letting her make the walk back alone. She limped and hobbled through the forest, enough sunlight from the new dawn filtering through the treetops to light her way. As she got closer, she could hear snippets of words being exchanged between Ronan and Annika. She tried not to show how out of breath she was as she reached them. The conversation between the siblings tapered off as Annika gave her brother a knowing look. She then turned her back on him and began rummaging through a backpack that must've been gifted to her along with the clean clothing.

Ronan straightened up from where he had been crouching on the ground near his sister and came toward her. "Well? How soon will you be leaving us?" he asked. There was no trace of bitterness or disdain in his voice. After all, according to the agreement they had made at the beginning of their journey, Zara had fulfilled her end of the bargain. Yet she swore she saw disappointment pooling in his eyes.

She put out a hand against the closest tree trunk, the bark rough beneath her palm. "They did offer me a position, with the Whitehaven guard until I prove myself," Zara answered, and his mouth twisted into a slight, barely there frown. "However, I've decided not to accept."

He stiffened, eyes growing wide as he looked at her in disbelief. She couldn't help it. A sly smile appeared on her lips. "You didn't accept? Isn't that what you want, though? I thought that was your whole purpose for letting me drag you out here?" he asked, waving his hand around the forest.

She shrugged. "It was...but I've changed my mind."

She didn't add that he had played a small part in that. It was already difficult enough trying to put into words how she felt without feeling like a complete fool. Ronan was watching her, head tilted slightly to one side, as he waited for her to continue. As she had expected, he wasn't going to let her off easy. "That time in my life is over. I realize that now. Ever since Gray died...I kept thinking that the only way to redeem myself was to earn back my place and make sure he didn't die in vain. But being back there, it would just remind me of him each day. His death has hungover me for so long. I think this is the only way to move on. And besides...I can't imagine the guard would be very accommodating once they realize my relation to Ardon."

Ronan was nodding slowly, as if mulling over each of her words individually. As his silence lingered, she felt herself growing antsy beneath his gaze. The silence between them was filled with a familiar intensity, one she remembered feeling with him inside the old cottage in Wintercliff. She fought the urge to press her hand to his chest, to feel the simple beat of his pulse again.

"What will you do instead?" he finally asked, the words soft.

It was the question she had been waiting for. She averted her gaze to the ground for a moment, studying the rough, worn leather of his boots. "I don't know where you and Annika are headed next, but perhaps I could tag along. If you'll have me."

She raised her eyes after a beat and the crooked smile on his face made her stomach drop, and she felt a small thrill zip through her before she was immediately chastising herself for letting something so simple make her so giddy. And yet, she forget to scold herself as he answered by lifting his head to capture her mouth with his, one of his hands moving to rest gently against her cheek. Her pulse faltered as his lips moved slowly and deliberately against her own. It was so different than the last time they had kissed, which had been driven by want and desperation. This felt more like alleviation, pure relief and amazement. Zara savored the salty taste of his lips, the sureness of his hands, and the feeling of his heart beating a rhythm beneath his shirt.

The kiss ended after a moment, though he didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned his forehead against hers. Zara kept her eyes closed and her fingers burrowed in the fabric of his shirt, allowing her to revel in the way he was making her feel without shame, guilt, hesitation, or anything other than joy. If she could somehow bottle the way he was making her feel, weave it into a blanket, or do anything to make it a tangible, touchable thing that she could hold whenever she felt doubt, she would have. Instead, she relied on the feeling that he would be enough.

"You know you needn't even ask, Zara," he murmured.

His lips pressed to hers a second time and she smiled against his mouth before pulling away. "Good. Besides, I expect you'll need my help getting out of this place."

"You forgot I have a magic item in my possession now," he taunted her, that same boyish grin appearing across his face. She gave him a disbelieving look, opening her mouth to argue but paused when he let out a laugh. "I think I've had my fair share of magic, though. I'm content to do things the old fashioned way."

Zara snorted, pushing off the tree and moving toward Annika. "The old fashioned way."

Annika smiled tentatively, standing up and shouldering her pack. "You're coming with us then." The words sounded relieved, and Zara knew that it would be a long time before the girl was healed from her ordeal. Though some of those scars would refuse to fade. Just like her own. Maybe now she wouldn't think so less of herself for carrying them. Perhaps even one day, she could think about Gray and smile.

Zara nodded. "Yes, wherever that is."

A wrinkle appeared in the center of Annika's forehead. "Where are we going anyway? Back to Valsthar?"

Ronan was nodding his agreement. "I'll be glad as well. Although, I left my position among the royal Huntsman in Valsthar to come after you, Ann. Maybe we try our luck elsewhere."

"Not Whitehaven," Zara spoke up. Whitehaven had never felt like home. Besides, it was too close to the guard. She was ready for a change of scenery. Perhaps mountains, or a sandy bay that looked out across an expanse of blue water. "Somewhere new. Fairmoor maybe."

"Fairmoor. I'm alright with that. Annika?" Ronan asked.

"I'll go anywhere," the young girl admitted. "I just want to be rid of this place."

Zara silently agreed. She was ready to leave behind the forest, to bury this part of her past.

She was pleased to find out that their belongings had been found and returned while she had been unconscious, and she reveled in the feeling of her sword heavy against her thigh. The old map Ronan carried crinkled beneath her finger as she traced a path out of the forest and toward the nearest village. They would travel to Fairmoor on country roads, well traveled and out of shadow. Zara was surprised at how much she was looking forward to civilization. At least some of it anyway.

She folded the map and tucked it into her waistband. A moment later, Annika was pressing the red cape into her hands. "Here," she said.

Zara took it, letting her eyes travel over the fabric. It had seen better days, that was for certain. It was torn and battered, smudged with dirt and soot. The hem was unraveling, and she could tell where pieces had been torn off for makeshift bandages. There was a faint glimmer of the attachment she had once felt. The heaviness in her heart still remained, but it was not nearly as prominent now that she had another path to travel.

Her fingers felt sure as she found the nearest low hanging branch and hung the cap onto it. It swayed and rustled in the breeze like it was possessed by an invisible spirit, one spot of bright color in an otherwise dark and colorless place. She could feel Ronan's eyes on her and turned to look at him.

Zara's lips twisted into a half smile. "Come on, we've already wasted half the morning." Zara took a few, uncertain steps but found her way after a few paces, though she was not nearly as soundless and graceful as she usually was. Each step caused a small burst of pain and Annika was suddenly there, lifting Zara's arm around her shoulder. She nearly protested, but thought twice. They would find a doctor in the nearest village, though Silas' splint seemed to be doing it's job.

"You're leaving it?" Ronan asked, appearing at her opposite side.

She glanced up at him and something in her expression must have answered any remaining curiosities for the moment as he closed his mouth and nodded. He reached for her hand and gave her a gentle squeeze. It was warm, reassuring, and full of promises. More than the cape had ever given her.

Besides.

She didn't need it anymore. 

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