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"I’ll be right back," I said, ignoring Sora’s hiss of protest.

I marched toward the cage. As I got close, the guards stepped forward, their markings flashing a sharp, defensive orange. One of them lowered his spear slightly, his voice a low, vibrating warning in the Oru-ka tongue.

"I’m just talking to him," I said, my voice dripping with the kind of stubborn authority I’d learned from Kaelen. I didn't wait for permission. I stepped right up to the bars and knelt, the high slit of my skirt falling open as I rested my weight on one heel.

The guards grumbled and looked at each other, but they didn't move to stop me. My new outfit—the one the tribe had spent days making—clearly gave me a level of status they weren't willing to challenge.

"Hey," I said softly.

Sky’s milky eyes widened as he took me in. He looked at the silver fur, the feathers in my hair, and the way the green vines mirrored the trees’ life. "Star-woman," he clicked, his voice thin. "You... are of the wood now."

"Just for today," I said, reaching into the small pouch Sora had given me and pulling out a handful of the honeyed nuts I’d saved from the morning. I slid them through the bars. "How are you feeling? Is the leg holding up?"

Sky took the food with trembling, spindly fingers and popped one into his mouth. Genuine shock crossed his face at the sweetness. "The pain is... quiet," he whispered. "I watch them. The red-ones. They do not bite each other.” he said slowly, “They do not steal from the weak. I never knew a clan could be such kin. My people... we only know the hunger."

The sadness in his voice hit me. He was watching the feast with the eyes of someone watching a miracle he wasn't allowed to touch.

"Believe it or not, Sky," I said, resting my hand on the cool ironwood of the cage, "I’m still an outsider looking in, too. We're both just guests in this nest, trying to figure out where we fit."

The boy looked at me, a strange, knowing tilt to his head. "No," he clicked softly. "You are the bridge, Star-woman. You do not look in. You hold the door."

I frowned, the dream of the glowing nervous systems flashing through my mind. Before I could ask him what he meant, I felt a firm hand on my shoulder.

"Lyra, enough," Sora said, her voice urgent but kind as she pulled me back to my feet. "The Elders are watching, and the Solstice games are about to begin. We cannot spend the whole festival in the shadows of the cage. Come. There is music to be made."

I gave Sky one last nod, which he returned with a slow blink. As Sora led me away back into the sea of red skin and golden light, I couldn't shake the feeling that the 'group activities' were the least of my concerns. The Alignment was reaching its peak, and the air began to hum with a tension that felt like it was about to snap.

Chapter 41

Kaelen-Thul

Ifocused on the weight of the spear in my hand, the balance of the bone tip against the shaft. On the far side of the central commons, the village was a riot of sound and scent, but here, on the training platforms near the western ridge, the air was sharp with the smell of crushed sap and the salt of sweat.

I was meticulously checking the tension of the long-range bows, my movements mechanical and rigid. We were preparing for the Trial of the Sun-Cross—the games of skill that preceded the fire-dance. My warriors were already gathering, sharpening obsidian blades and testing the flex of their limbs, their markings a competitive orange that flickered like dying embers. I should have been leading the feast. I should have been sitting in the High Seat of the Oru-ka, accepting the first-offering of the harvest and blessing the kin-bonds.

But I couldn't. Not when her scent was already drifting across the upper canopy, tangled with the sweetness of the festival nectar. Every time the wind shifted, it brought a ghost of her jasmine scent, and my Pulse would spike so violently I feared the Elders would hear it from across the Nest.

"You missed the spiced lizard-tail, Huntmaster," a voice drifted down from the thick canopy above, light and annoying as a biting midge. "And the nectar. I believe Sora has reached her third jar already. The singing is getting... creative. I think she’s currently making up verses about the size of a Vakra's ears."

I didn't look up. I knew the restless swish of that tail anywhere. "I am not hungry, Toren. And someone must ensure these fledglings don’t put a spear through their own feet before the games begin. The alignment makes them reckless."

Toren dropped from a higher branch, catching a lower one with his knees and swinging casually back and forth like a nesting fruit-bat. His lithe, slender frame was draped in ceremonial silks of a deep, watery teal, his markings a calm, mocking green that suggested he was thoroughly enjoying my discomfort.

"Liar," he said, his voice dropping to a low, melodic purr that vibrated with amusement. "You’re brooding. You’re lurking out here in the moss because you’re afraid if you go to that feast, you’ll forget how to be a leader and remember only how to be a male."

I let out a low, vibrating growl, the sound rumbling deep in my chest like a tectonic shift. "You have a post, Toren. You should be helping with the target arrays, or at least preparing to compete yourself. Or has your ego finally grown too heavy for the branches to support your weight?"

"My ego is perfectly buoyant, thank you," Toren quipped. He suddenly released his leg grip and fell backwards into the empty air. I didn't even flinch as he caught himself by his tail at the last second, hanging upside down directly in front of my face. His eyes were bright with a predatory mischief. "The village is talking, Kaelen. They say the star-woman is wearing the silver-fox. Mara’s handiwork. They say she looks... significant. Like a queen of the high-winds."

I felt the gold in my markings flare, a hot, prickling heat that travelled up my neck and settled behind my eyes. I shoved his hanging form away with more force than necessary, sending him swinging like a pendulum against the tree’s trunk. "Enough. Get down from there before I decide I need a new bowstring and take your tail for the materials."

Toren laughed, a sharp, barking sound, and flipped himself upright to land gracefully on the platform, his feet barely making a sound on the wood. He stretched his long, lean muscles, his markings shifting to a bright, focused indigo as he pumped himself up for the trials.

"Fine, fine. I’ll go impress the crowds and leave you to your self-pity," Toren said, checking the balance of his throwing daggers. He paused, looking back at me with a sharp, knowing glint in his eyes that made me want to strike him. "The competition will be fierce today, brother. Half the Guard are already preening and scenting the air for the unmated females. And since the star-woman is wearing the braid of the open heart... well. She is technically part of the unmated pool today, isn't she? Fair game for the Hunt."

The world seemed to tilt for a moment, the emerald light of the forest turning an angry red at the edges of my vision. The braid. The sign that she was unowned. The open invitation for any male with enough courage and strength to track her scent through the canopy and claim a night of her time.

"She is a guest," I rasped, the words feeling like shards of glass in my throat.