The thought tasted bitter on my tongue, sharp and metallic, like swallowing rust. It lodged itself in my throat and refused to leave, making my stomach twist with guilt even as it formed.
How could I even think something like that?
I felt sick for allowing the idea to take root in my mind. Ashriel..... distant, infuriating, untouchable Ashriel.... dying here, in this cursed stretch of forest? The mere possibility carved something raw and aching inside my chest. And the worst part was that it hurt more than it should have. Far more.
Before I could spiral any deeper, Elion moved.
He stepped in front of me smoothly, not with dramatic flair or aggressive posturing, but with an instinctive, fluid grace. As if his body had made the decision long before his mind caught up. As if shielding me was the most natural thing in the world.
My eyes barely registered his presence.
Because beyond the line of his shoulder, the Ape loomed.
And gods… it was not merely big.
It was wrong.
