The ointment was cool against Anwen's skin, and she twitched every time Theon's fingers brushed a scrape. A helpless giggle slipped out of her.
"Be still," Theon muttered, sounding more like a bored older brother than the boy who'd just slaughtered a corrupted vampire.
"I can't," Anwen wriggled, half-laughing. "It feels ticklish!"
He arched his brow. "Ticklish? That's…strange. Ointments are supposed to sting, not make you laugh."
"It's a special one," she explained quickly, proud of her satchel's contents. "Laia got it for me since I'm really sensitive to pain. I always keep it with me. Lucky, right?"
Satisfied with his work, Theon snapped the tin shut and rose, scanning their surroundings. His sharp eyes moved like he was drawing an invisible map of the forest in his head.
But when he glanced back, he caught Anwen staring at him as if he'd sprouted a second head.
"What?" he asked.
"You're just going to pretend like you didn't take down a full-grown corrupted vampire? Without even lifting a finger?"
Theon tilted his head, genuinely puzzled. "Is that supposed to be impressive? I've lost count of how many I've killed."
Anwen's mouth fell open. He said it so casually, like she'd just asked if he'd brushed his teeth.
"How old are you?" she blurted.
"Ten." His answer was calm, unbothered. The same age as Aimes and Remington. But those two weren't out here fighting monsters in the dark. Does Aimes fight corrupted vampires too?
Her thoughts were spinning when Theon leaned in and flicked her forehead. "Stop zoning out. How old are you?"
Anwen jerked back, clutching her head with a frown. She opened her mouth to answer, then shut it with a snap. Folding her arms, she looked away stubbornly. "I'm not telling you anything other than my name."
Theon smirked. "But it's only fair. You asked my age. Shouldn't I know yours?"
"I'd rather not tell my murderer anything," she shot back with narrowed eyes. "What if you track me down to finish the job?"
With a quiet chuckle, Theon lifted his hand and extended his pinky finger toward her. "Fine. I'll make you a promise. I won't harm you again… much less kill you."
Anwen eyed him suspiciously, like he was trying to trick her into eating a strange mushroom. Still, after a pause, she hooked her small pinky around his. "You'd better not break it. If you do, my father and brother will come after you."
Theon barked a laugh, the sound echoing through the trees. Dropping back onto the grass beside her, he stretched his legs out as if they hadn't just survived a monster attack. "Is someone out for you? You're so angsty about not getting killed."
She hesitated on a response, weighing her options on if she should tell him the truth or not. He had tried to shoot her at first, but since then, he hadn't done anything to make her distrust him. And really…he was her only way out of this cursed forest. She told herself she wouldn't see him again after today anyway. But strangely, that thought made her chest ache.
So she told him. "Yes. A psychopathic vampire duke wants me dead. Or—" she kicked at the grass nervously—"he plans to use me until I die."
Theon was silent for a beat. Then he asked calmly, "Is it Roarke?"
Anwen's eyes went wide. How did he guess so easily? I didn't mention a name!
"Your face says I'm right." His grin was boyish as he reached over to pluck a stray leaf from her hair.
"How…how do you know?" she stammered.
"You screamed his name while you were running," Theon replied matter-of-factly. "And your description fits him perfectly. Power-hungry. Mad. Corrupted. A duke whose body is failing him. There aren't many that fit that mold."
Anwen stared at him in awe. He spoke with such certainty, like someone who had spent years watching from the shadows. And for the first time, it felt like she wasn't alone in her burden.
"But why?" His voice softened, carrying an undercurrent of anger. His gaze grew darker, stormy. "Why is Roarke after you? What could a ghost girl like you have that's worth hunting you down…at the cost of your life?"
Her lips trembled. The words weighed heavy on her chest, but they forced their way out anyway.
"Because…I am a Fae."
The forest seemed to hush around her, swallowing the confession whole. Vulnerability clawed at her chest—he could turn on her now, just like Roarke had. Capture her. Use her. Break her.
But something told her she could trust him. That he wouldn't.
Still, she wondered…had she just made the right decision? Or the worst mistake of her life?