Jason tightened the strap on his pack and surveyed the clearing. The sun was fully up now, burning away the last traces of morning mist. Mae was checking her supplies, her tail swishing lazily. The ant king stood at the edge of the trees, his black and gold eyes fixed on the path ahead.

Ylva was already packed, her claws retracted, her expression neutral.

Jason felt self-conscious.

He had confessed to her last night. Told her he loved her. And she had said it back. But now, in the harsh light of day, he had no idea how to act. Was he supposed to hold her hand? Steal kisses? Act like nothing had changed?

Ylva solved the problem by acting like nothing had happened.

She walked past him, her shoulder brushing his, and crouched down to tighten her boot. But Jason caught it—a quick glance. Her green eyes flicked toward him, lingered for half a second, and then darted away.

And she was smiling, not the usual stern facial expression. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

It was a just a small one. The corner of her mouth curved upward, barely visible. Then it was gone almost right away.

Jason blinked.

"Has she always been looking at me like that?"

He had no idea. Maybe he had never noticed. Maybe the words they had exchanged had unlocked something in both of them, made him more aware of her gaze.

Either way, telling Ylva that he loved her seemed to ground him. The chaos of the past few days felt distant. The guilt over Mira felt smaller. He had a purpose now, a direction.

Mae finished packing and slung her bag over her shoulder. Her brown eyes drifted from Jason to Ylva and back. Her nostrils flared slightly—she was picking up on something.

But she didn’t comment. confirming the ant king had better senses than her.

Mae didn’t care to establish an emotional connection with Jason. Their arrangement was physical and transactional. Healing milk in exchange for... other things. She didn’t need to know about his feelings for the werewolf as it was established she was his mate.

"Scent changed," Mae said flatly. "Both of you."

Jason’s face flushed. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Mae shrugged. "You dooo~"

Ylva stood up and stretched, her tail flicking. "Ant king is getting restless, we should move."

Jason looked at the creature. It hadn’t moved from its spot, but its mandibles were clicking faster now—an sign of impatience.

"Lead the way," Jason said.

The ant king turned and walked into the trees.

They moved through the forest in a loose formation. The ant king led, his small red body weaving between roots and rocks with unnatural grace. Ylva followed close behind him, her ears swiveling, her nose testing the air.

Jason walked behind Ylva, with Mae bringing up the rear.

They were on their way to find Thalion.

The ant king could track him—through scent, through vibration, through whatever strange senses the creature possessed. There was no way in hell Thalion could hide from him.

Ylva glanced back, her eyes met that of Jason.

"Stop staring," she said.

"I wasn’t staring," Jason blurted out.

"You were," Ylva responded.

Jason opened his mouth to argue, but Ylva had already turned back around. He saw her ears twitch, he saw the corner of her mouth curve upward again.

"Definitely smiling," Jason thought to himself.

Mae cleared her throat. "You know I can hear both of you, right?"

Jason groaned. "Can we just focus on the mission?"

"That’s what I’m doing." Mae’s voice was dry. "Focusing on how you two are going to get us killed because you’re distracted."

Ylva’s tail flicked. "No one is getting killed."

"You almost got killed by a cave," Jason chipped in.

"That was different," Ylva fired back at him.

Mae snorted in disbelief, it was hard to believe they just escaped death the day before.

The ant king stopped ahead, his head tilted. He was listening to something Jason couldn’t hear. After a moment, he continued walking.

Jason knew there was a chance they could encounter threats on the road. Thalion had gone toward the Bleak Marrow—a region that crawled with criminals and worse. But the ant king was their shield and their weapon.

And Jason had Ylva.

"Hey," he said quietly.

Ylva glanced back. "What?"

"I’m glad you’re here."

She stared at him for a moment. Then she turned back around, but her tail curled slightly—a gesture Jason had learned meant contentment.

"Focus on the path," she said. "We can be sappy later."

Jason smiled.

-

The Bleak Marrow stretched before Thalion like an open wound in the earth.

Grey soil crunched beneath his boots. Twisted trees clawed at the sky, their branches bare and blackened as if burned from within. The air smelled of sulfur and old blood. Somewhere in the distance, something screamed—a sound that cut off abruptly, swallowed by silence.

Thalion walked alone.

The eyeless gatekeeper had bowed and scurried away after recognizing him. Thalzor. The name tasted like ash in his mouth. He had buried that name centuries ago, along with his true face.

But here, in the Marrow, names had power.

The path wound between boulders that looked like petrified giants, their surfaces etched with symbols that predated any known civilization. Thalion kept his hood up, his mud-brown hair hidden, his cloth-wrapped ears concealed. His body ached. His magic flickered like a candle in the wind.

He was one of the more dangerous members here, once upon a time.

"But not anymore," he thought.

The path opened into a clearing—if it could be called that. The ground was bare, blackened, ringed by standing stones that hummed with a low, resonant frequency. In the center, a figure sat on a throne made of fused bone and metal.

Thalion stopped.

His heart, which had faced things only one could imagine, froze.

The figure stood before him as he eventually reached his destination.

He was tall, inhumanly tall, easily eight feet, with shoulders broad as an ox and arms that hung past his knees. His skin was the color of old iron, etched with scars that glowed faintly red, like embers beneath ash. His face was hard, angular, with a jaw that could crush stone and eyes that burned like molten gold.

He wore no shirt, his chest was a map of healed wounds and ritual branding. A massive sword rested against his throne, its blade black and serrated.

This was the most feared person in the Bleak Marrow.

Thalion’s father.

"Thalzor," the giant rumbled, his voice like grinding boulders. "You look like shit."

Thalion’s throat tightened. "Father."

The giant stepped forward. Each footfall made the ground tremble. He circled Thalion slowly, his golden eyes scanning the elf’s frail body, the muddy hair, the cloth-wrapped ears.

"A high elf," he said, disgust dripping from every word. "You chose a high elf. Fragile, weak and pathetic." He stopped in front of Thalion and grabbed his chin, forcing his head up. "Why, boy? Why would you wear such a worthless vessel?"

Thalion didn’t flinch. "Because my true form is heinous." But this revealed Thalion was in the body of an elf.

The giant’s eyes narrowed.

"You know it’s true." Thalion pulled his chin free. "I looked like a monster. A creature of nightmares. No one would look at me without screaming. So I found something beautiful. Something everyone would trust." He touched his own cheek—the elf’s high cheekbone, the smooth pale skin. "This face opens doors. This body walks through crowds unnoticed."

"Unnoticed?" The giant laughed—a harsh, barking sound. "You were captured. Tortured and imprisoned for centuries. Some doors this face opened, boy."

"That wasn’t the face’s fault."

The giant’s laughter died. His golden eyes burned brighter.

"You know what I am," he said. "What you are. We do not hide. We do not cower. We conquer."

Thalion met his gaze. "I am nothing like you."

"No," the giant agreed. "You’re weaker. So much weaker." He reached out and grabbed Thalion’s arm, squeezing until the bones creaked.

"This body isn’t even yours. It belongs to some high elf you stole. And now you’re stuck in it, aren’t you? The curse won’t let you leave."

Thalion said nothing.

The giant released him and turned away, walking back to his throne. He sat down heavily, the bones creaking under his weight.

"I knew the moment you entered the Marrow," he said. "I felt you. Like a splinter in my flesh." He leaned forward, his golden eyes locking onto Thalion’s. "Why are you here, boy?"

Thalion straightened his shoulders. "The Velveteen Watch. The guild that cursed me. I need to find them. Or what remains of them."

"The Velveteen Watch is dead," the giant said. "Slaughtered and scattered. You already know this."

"I need to be sure."

"Sure of what? That you’re still cursed?" The giant laughed again. "You’re still in that elf’s body, aren’t you? Of course you’re cursed. You’ll never leave it. Not unless you find the one who cast it."

Thalion’s jaw tightened. "The mage who cursed me. She was part of the Watch. If she’s still alive—"

"She’s not." The giant’s voice was flat. "I killed her myself. Thirty years ago. Ripped her head from her shoulders and mounted it on my wall." He gestured toward the throne. "It’s over there. Want to see?"

Thalion felt his stomach drop. "You... killed her?"

"She was hunting you. Tracking your stolen body. I couldn’t have her leading enemies to my territory." The giant shrugged. "So I removed the problem."

Thalion’s hands trembled. "Then the curse is permanent."

"Looks that way."

He stood in silence, staring at the bone throne, at the skull mounted on its armrest—a woman’s skull, small and delicate, with cracks running across the crown.

Centuries. He had spent centuries in that dungeon, believing he could break the curse, believing he could escape the elf’s body and return to his true form.

And now that hope was gone.

"Father," Thalion said quietly. "I want to stay here. In the Marrow."

The giant raised an eyebrow. "You want to hide."

"I want to recover. My body is failing. My magic is unstable. If I go back out there, I’ll die."

"You’ll die here too. The Marrow doesn’t care about your feelings."

"I know." Thalion met his father’s golden eyes. "But I have nowhere else to go."

The giant stared at him for a long moment. Then he nodded.

"There’s a cave behind the keep. Empty. You can have it." He stood and picked up his massive sword. "But if you bring trouble to my doorstep, boy, I’ll kill you sooner than I need to. Understand?"

Thalion nodded. "I understand."

He disappeared into the grey landscape, his massive form swallowed by the twisted branches.

Thalion stood alone in the clearing, surrounded by standing stones and bones.

"My father killed the mage."

"The curse is permanent."

"I will never leave this body."

He touched his cheek again—the elf’s soft skin, the delicate jaw.

"At least it’s beautiful."

He walked toward the keep, toward the cave behind it, toward whatever came next. However, Thalion knew it would only be a matter of time before his father came to consume him and this was what he truly wanted deep down.

But until then, he could ponder on the things and life he had led.

He knew that Tauriel had seen something she didn’t wish to see because now, there was no way for her to undo the mark she put on him and should his father consume him, his experience would be transferred to his father.

This was why his father allowed his children to venture out into the world, Thalion was one of the many children he had, and they all returned to be consumed by their father.

But there was one thing their father always did, he always killed those who harmed his children after they became one.

"Tauriel, it looks like I win in the end," Thalion muttered under his breath.