Chapter 8 Eight

The silence in the pine forest was profound, broken only by the soft crunch of our footsteps on the needle-strewn path. Theron moved with an unnerving grace, his form blending with the dappled shadows. I followed, my senses screaming, every instinct I’d honed in a world of corporate backstabbing now repurposed for survival.

His story was a little too neat. His acceptance a little too swift.

We reached a small, gurgling stream. Theron knelt, cupping water to his mouth. "We can rest here for a moment. The Grim-tusk won't cross running water."

I remained standing, my arms crossed over my chest, the leather of Kael's tunic creaking softly. "You were very specific," I said, my voice cutting through the peaceful babble of the brook.

He looked up, water dripping from his chin. "Specific?"

"About the Syndicate. You said they were looking for someone. Not something. Not just causing trouble. Someone." I held his gaze, the mask of the lost, grateful human completely gone. "How did you know it was a person they were after?"

Theron went very still. The easy, hunter's grace tightened into something more guarded. The shift was subtle, but I caught it. I’d spent years reading the micro-expressions of businessmen who were about to lie.

"A reasonable deduction," he said carefully, rising to his feet. "The Syndicate deals in assets. People are their most valuable commodity."

"Are they?" I took a step closer, the space between us crackling with new tension. "Or were you waiting for me, Theron of the Silverwood Clan? Did your clan's 'no love for Silas Vane' come with a price tag? A finder's fee for a lost human?"

His expression didn't change, but his eyes—his eyes gave him away. There was a flicker of surprise, quickly masked by a calculated calm. He hadn't expected me to be this suspicious. He’d pegged me as a frightened girl, not a strategist.

"The Fae do not deal in currency, witch. We deal in favors. In obligations." He took a step toward me, and for the first time, I felt the true, ancient power radiating from him. It wasn't the raw, explosive force of a dragon. It was older, deeper, like the roots of the mountains themselves. "And you, Lena, who smells of dragon-fire and walks with a piece of a Royal's hoard in her pocket, are a walking, talking obligation."

My blood ran cold. He knew about the coin. Of course he knew. He had sensed it the moment I’d used its power.

"The bond is new, but the taint of his magic is all over you," he continued, his voice low and relentless. "The Syndicate isn't just offering gold for your return. They are offering a treaty. A cessation of their encroachment on our lands. The return of sacred groves they have defiled. Your value, little witch, is not in your life, but in what your capture can buy for my people."

So that was it. I wasn't a person to him. I was a bargaining chip. A key to a political deal.

I didn't back down. I let the cold fury I felt show on my face. "And what makes you think you can deliver me? You saw what I did to the Grim-tusk."

"I saw a parlor trick," he said, a hint of condescension creeping into his tone. "A flicker of borrowed power. You are a candle who has briefly touched a star. You do not burn with its fire. You are still just wax and wick." He gestured around us. "And you are deep in my woods."

The air grew heavy, the scent of pine becoming cloying, oppressive. The shadows beneath the trees seemed to lengthen and twist, reaching for me. This was his power. The forest itself was his weapon.

I had one card left to play. The only card I had.

Slowly, deliberately, I pulled the dragon coin from my pocket. It lay in my palm, glowing with its soft, inner light, a tiny sun in the dim forest. Theron’s eyes locked onto it, a flash of naked greed and awe breaking through his composure.

"You're right," I said, my voice quiet but clear. "This is borrowed power. But it's a power that answers to me." I focused not on the coin itself, but on the connection it represented. I thought of Kaelen, of his rage, his pride, the vast, untamed fury of the dragon. I poured that memory, that feeling, into the coin.

"This isn't just a piece of gold, Theron. It's a piece of him. And you want to hand his Fated Mate over to the people who put a collar on him?" I took a step forward, the coin's glow intensifying, casting sharp, dancing shadows on his face. "Do you truly believe a dragon, once freed, will care about the nuances of your treaty? Do you think his fire will distinguish between Syndicate enforcer and Fae traitor?"

I saw the doubt then, a crack in his certainty. He had been thinking of me as a commodity. He hadn't considered the wrath of the asset he was helping to cage.

"The Syndicate promises you your groves back?" I pressed, my voice dropping to a whisper. "Kaelen Drakon will burn Silas Vane's entire empire to the ground. He can give you more than groves. He can give you a continent free of a vampire's shadow. Or," I let the threat hang in the air, "he can decide that the Silverwood Clan made a very, very poor choice of allies."

Theron was silent, his face a mask of conflicted calculation. The forest around us seemed to hold its breath, waiting for his decision. The gentle babbling of the brook was the only sound.

Finally, he spoke, his voice stripped of its earlier condescension, replaced by a weary respect. "You do not fight like a witch. You fight like a courtier. With words and threats."

"I fight to win," I said, not lowering the coin. "And I fight for what's mine."

He looked from the glowing coin to my face, and gave a slow, conceding nod. "It seems the mouse has teeth." He took a deliberate step back, and the oppressive weight of the forest lifted. "A temporary alliance, then. Until the dragon is free. We will discuss the price of my aid… later."

It was the best I was going to get. A shaky, uncertain truce with a would-be captor. I slipped the coin back into my pocket, its warmth a comforting lie. I had just won a battle of wits, but the war was far from over. And I was now allied with a Fae who had just admitted he would have sold me out for the right price.

As I fell back into step behind him, a new, chilling thought settled in my mind. Theron wasn't my savior. He was just another predator. And I had just convinced him that I was more valuable as a partner than as prey.

For now.