"You could talk to Frederick, he might know of a safe place—"

"Frederick is a good man, but there is no place safe enough in the towns." The human sighed. "We could leave the woods and travel across the ocean. I've heard of boats that ferry people for months."

"The promise is a part of Credence. She would find her way back to the woods. We'll have to fight."

"That's your pride talking. You cannot fight him and hope to win, Galeia."

"Then I'll die protecting our children."

"You don't have to, there must be a way—"

"The woods are dangerous. They are home to all manner of sinister things. But there is one alone who truly threatens us. It all lies with Ajo, and making him see reason."

"You've tried, it will not work."

The human fetched a long pipe and filled its bowl with dried leaf. He lit the leaf and sat, thinking long and hard about what to do.

"Time and patience," Galeia muttered. "Wind whittles rock with enough of it. I will do the same with Ajo."

"Please, don't do something foolish." He motioned to the infant son in her arms. "There's more at stake here than just you and me."

"That's exactly why I must try."

"Leave him alone, Galeia. Every time you seek him out you only rouse his anger further and something awful befalls us. He will never change his mind."

"But I will not allow him to force his way into our lives, to torment us until he finally takes what he believes is his. He promised to stay away, and he will keep that promise."

Hidden within the shadows and the trees, Ajo snickered at Galeia's pathetic belief that he could be stopped.

***

A month after the birth of her son, Galeia ventured into the woods. A weighted coat shielded her from the bite of winter, and the morning sun warmed her face. Her infant was tucked securely against her chest in a sling, though Galeia stopped often to ensure he was comfortable.

She walked for miles, demanding Ajo's presence, looking as fierce as a wolf that caught the scent of blood. Ajo was content to watch as she hunted him, calling until her throat was raw from the cold. Her breath blew in great clouds and her face was becoming numb.

But she would not relent.

Ajo was not embarrassed by being caught with Credence, but felt justified in their interactions. It was that resolve that made him appear before Galeia.

Wind swept through the pair as they regarded each other, carrying a warning of impending battle in its chill. Galeia turned to a nearby tree and conjured a window into its trunk. She took her baby from the sling and placed him inside the hole in the trunk, tucking moss around his head and body, making sure he could not fall from the makeshift nest.

When she turned back to Ajo, Galeia wasted no time on pleasantries.

"You were forbidden to come near her until she grew up."

Ajo snorted. "A king takes orders from no one. I wanted to make sure you weren't turning her against me. Where is my bride?"

"That is none of your concern."

From her pockets she produced the snail shell Ajo had gifted her daughter. She crushed it between her fingers and threw the shards into the snow.

"If you come near my daughter—"

"What will you do? What could you do?"

When Galeia did not answer, Ajo grinned.

"You hold no power in these woods," he said. "It's by my grace alone that you are spared." His eyes fell to the hole in the tree. "Is that the latest in your brood?"

"My son, Josiah."

Ajo held his hands out. "May I?"

Galeia shook her head, shocked by such a question. "No, you'll curse him."

"If that was my intention, I could do it without touching him. Let me see the child."

"Stay away from him!"

Her mouth curled into a snarl and she retreated until her back touched the trunk. Rage welled in Ajo. Why must she detest him? After all the mercy he'd extended, she clung to her hate.

Ajo would take what he wanted.

He moved towards the tree but stopped when blue light burst into view. Galeia's hands were glowing, and her posture signaled an imminent attack.

"You remember your fighting stances," Ajo said with a sneer. "The only lessons you took seriously."

"They were the only ones I needed."

"What do you—"

Her fist connected with his cheek. Galeia moved quickly, becoming a blur of skin and blue, striking blow after blow across him. There was no caution in her violence. She meant to hurt him, and her fury would not be reasoned with. But as powerful as she was, as great as her anger had become, Ajo matched it.

He caught her and drove his fist into her stomach, then her face. Galeia stumbled back with a bloodied nose and a look of pure disbelief. She was stunned for only a second before charging him again, and grabbed his arm and twisted it painfully behind him. She conjured a blade and held it to his throat, but as she began to press it into his skin Ajo reached up and pulled her hair forcefully, sending her tumbling over him and onto the ground. Ajo's own dagger formed in his hand, and he raised it to bring it down onto her back—just as Galeia rolled out of reach and scrambled to her feet. Another blur and she was behind him. Ajo drove his elbow into her collarbone, but not before Galeia had the chance to drag her blade across his back.

She danced around him, moving too swiftly to be caught, nicking his arms and legs as she went.

Ajo pulled vines from the ground and ensnared her ankles, giving him enough time to plunge his dagger into her side before Galeia dissolved his trap and leapt across the snow, trailing blood behind her.

They clashed together once more, grabbing and attacking where they could. It was not an elegant fight, but a savage display where neither opponent could stop for a breath or risk a glance at their wounds. As they moved, the color of their blur turned red, as more and more they wounded each other with fists and blades and magic.

Galeia would not be stopped, and worse, the balance of the fight was slowly beginning to tip in her favor. It was cruelly humorous, Ajo thought, that she could still match the King of the Wood. 

Galeia still had the capacity to surprise him.

How long could they pursue this fight? The fire of their fury burned bright, but their movements were beginning to slow.

It dawned on Ajo that Galeia's weakness would not be found on her body.

His focus turned to the tree that held her infant.

"No!" she cried as Ajo sent fire towards the hole in the trunk.

She dove in front of it and took the impact of Ajo's attack in her stomach. She fell to the ground, the breath knocked from her lungs. The fire burned through several layers of her clothing, but had only kissed her skin before extinguishing, leaving a warm but superficial mark on her body. 

Galeia remained motionless for several seconds. Ajo watched her from a distance, searching for a sign that he had won. 

Inside the trunk, her infant began to wail. 

Galeia's head raised from the snow. Through a painful struggle she began to drag herself to the tree, with no other thought than reaching her child. Ajo's fingers caught her hair and jerked her head back with a forceful yank—but still Galeia stretched her arms towards the tree, hissing and moaning under his touch. 

To mock her, Ajo pulled her through the snow by her hair, over to the infant she was so desperate to comfort, but he did not allow her to reach her child. He raised her to her feet and pushed her against the trunk on the opposite side of her son, so that she could not see him.   

Ajo wasted no time and flicked his wrist to bring vines from the earth. They wrapped around Galeia's arms and legs, tethering her tightly to the tree. Thorns slid from the tender stalks and pressed against her exposed skin, piercing shallow indentations along her body. 

Ajo's wounds had already healed, and the only trace left behind was in the smear of dried blood on his skin. Galeia's injuries, however, were not closing as quickly, and she remained a mass of cuts and bruises—but her concern was elsewhere, and she turned her head in a futile attempt to see her son. The vines formed a threatening frame around the outer edges of the makeshift hole, but they did not touch the child. Ajo lifted the infant from its nest.

"Hush now," he commanded and the child went silent.

Galeia yelled in frustration as she struggled to free herself.

But she was helpless, they both knew.

And she would not attack Ajo while he held such precious life.

"Did you think this boy would provoke my sympathy?" Ajo asked. 

He hummed and rocked the infant, and was pleased to watch its mother writhe in anger.

"I only wanted to look at him," he said with mock pity. "If you had obliged, this could have been a pleasant meeting. But you're ever the fighter. It's not a virtue, Galeia. It's a detriment."

He conjured a short sapling a few feet away. Its branches curved to form a bowl, and moss spread through it to pad the rough wood. He placed the infant, now sleeping, inside the improvised cradle, and as a safeguard he added one final touch: A thin platform of thorns hovering over the infant, a gruesome mobile that threatened the child's life should Galeia attempt another attack.

Ajo turned back to his prisoner.

"Give me my son," Galeia pleaded but Ajo was not listening.

His gaze swept over her plain clothing, and the burned layers that exposed her skin. She should have been dressed in the gowns of nobility, but instead she wore the rags of a peasant—

And she'd never looked more beautiful. The battle in her eyes. The glow of motherhood. A smudge of soot on her bloodied cheeks. Ajo's breath caught in his throat. In that moment Galeia looked exactly as she was always meant to: A true child of the forest.

A repulsive notion came to him as Lilith's voice cackled in his memory.

What will you do the next time you want something?

"Take it," Ajo whispered.

His demeanor changed and he approached her with hesitance.

"I still love you," he admitted. "I hate that I...still care."

"If you love me—"

He held his hand up to stop her, not wanting to hear the rest. He studied her, the blood and sweat on her skin, and pushed the hair away from her face. 

"We've only shared one kiss." He frowned and amended, "One honest kiss. Is that fair? One kiss to last me an immortal life. Is it enough?" 

"It will have to be," Galeia said curtly, "for I will give you no more."

"A king can take what he wants."

"A tyrant. That's not you."

"We could strike a new bargain. Another kiss, a real one...and I'll break the vow we made. You can keep your daughter and go in peace. That doesn't sound terrible, does it? It sounds merciful. Kind. A single kiss for freedom."

"It wouldn't be one kiss. Soon enough you would insist on another, then another. It would be a lifetime of 'one more' while you dangled the promise of peace before me. Until you grew tired of asking for a kiss."

She was right.

"What's more than a kiss?" he asked. "What could sate me longer?"

"I'm not here to bargain."

"Or I could have what I want and think nothing of your feelings."

His remark was met with a look of revulsion.

A brief remorse passed over him.

He never wanted it to be this way. Not with Galeia, not with the one he loved above all.

But vengeance was stronger than regret, and if was to be shame or nothing—

Shame would be his choice.

Ajo wrapped his hand around her throat.

"Do you remember Lilith's game of 'Bodies'?" Recognition flashed in Galeia's eyes. "Tell me, which part am I touching you with now?"

He pushed his mouth against hers with such force that Galeia's head connected with the tree behind her. When he dared to slip his tongue into her mouth she bit him hard, and he pulled away, bleeding but not surprised.

"That was your last chance to try a trick like that," he warned, spitting red onto the ground.

He pointed to the sapling cradle and the thorns hovering above the infant twitched.

"Do it again and I'll hurt him."

A spot of his blood on her lips glistened under the winter sun.

"This is not what you want, Ajo. I know you. I know you."

Her words touched something long buried within him. His grip on her throat loosened.

"I'm so alone," he said mournfully.

Mercy, vengeance. Taking or leaving. Peace or war. Endless possibilities.

"Ajo," she repeated his name. "Please. Please..."

He held a finger against her lips. She was trying to appeal to his mercy, but Ajo remembered a time when Galeia herself instructed him otherwise.

There will always be one who stands while a hundred bow.

"You do not know me, not anymore."

"Who's fault is that?"

"Yours. You threw me into the abyss, and now you do not have the strength to pull me from it. It was a foolish endeavor to believe you could."

"I'm not here to save you. I hoped—I believed—that a piece of the person I loved remained in you."

The hand around her neck tightened.

"You think too highly of yourself, Galeia. And you think too highly of me."

He didn't give her the chance to reply, but crushed his mouth against hers and drove his tongue past her lips.

She tasted like wind beneath the summer sun.

His threat worked, and though Galeia didn't welcome his kiss she dared not bite him again. His hands dove into her hair, pulling her face into his, desperate to close any space left between them.

Galeia remained like a pillar of stone against the raging storm.

Ajo's boldness grew with his desire, and he lowered his mouth to her neck. His tongue had taken the blood from her lips, and it drew a smear of red across her collar. A shiver passed through her, and Ajo could not guess if it had been born from disgust or something else.

"I am a king," Ajo murmured against her skin. "Not a fool."

Hate and love swirled around each other, muddling his thoughts. He wanted to hurt her and protect her. One second he wanted to prove he was the only one worthy of her love, the next he wanted to crush the life from her.

He tore at her clothing, and she let out a whimper of protest as his attention turned lower.

The quickened beat of her heart was a rhythm of war to his ears.

Ajo knew what came next, for he'd read the stories until he memorized them, and though his body was innocent his mind was as knowledgeable as any scholar.

He raised her skirt and exposed the mark on her thigh. It sickened him, the brand of the human, and he wanted to rip it from her skin.

Galeia shuddered as his voice poured into her ear.

"I didn't want it to be this way."

When his finger brushed against her she hissed in disdain.

"I love you, Galeia."

His hand went to his trousers—

A cry filled the woods, startling them both.

A flock of birds sprang from the trees, spooked into movement, and flew into the distance.

"Josiah," Galeia rasped. "My baby."

Their eyes simultaneously found the bawling infant in his cradle.

"It's all right," Galeia said to the child, trying to keep her voice calm and soothing, but helpless to stop the despair that quaked through it. "It's all right, my love. I'm here. Josiah—"

Her voice cracked on his name.

Ajo turned back to Galeia. Her focus was trained on the infant, and in her expression he saw something that had never been there before.

Sacrifice. Maturity. True, unyielding love.

Motherhood.

She'd never given that look to anyone, not even her husband.

All his fury and desire, his determination to see through what he had begun—

Ajo felt it die in an instant.

Shattered by the cry of a child.

"Galeia, I—"

"Do what you must, but please, my child—"

"I love you."

She gave him a withering look. "You've proven this day that you don't."

The reality of what he had intended crashed down on him. He had been so close to what he wanted—but at what cost?

No, it wasn't what he wanted. It was a vile imitation. There was nothing real to be gained in the act, except the hate it pulled from Galeia.

The desire to kiss her was there, but it was tainted with humiliation. He reached out and traced his thumb over her bottom lip.

He wanted to devote the rest of his days to repentance, but in Galeia's eyes was a silent plea: Let me go.

She would never stay with him willingly. He would have to release her, and she would return to the man she'd chosen over him. The one she gave herself to with unrestrained passion.

Passion she would never show Ajo.

"Go," he said, hating the sound of his voice. "Go back to him."

"Are you satisfied?" She spat her words like poison, and her voice carried a blade to his heart.

"I will never be satisfied as long as you return to someone else." He paused before adding, "I've only ever wanted your love."

"You had it, just not in the way you wanted. Until today."

He was forced to dropped his gaze. He felt like a lump of nothing, like a bug, an insignificant nuisance destined to be crushed underfoot.

Galeia had come to him hoping to find a sliver of kindness. After what he had been so close to seeing through, there was no room in her heart for him. There never would be again.

He stepped away from the tree, giving her distance, and fell to his knees in defeat. The fire of passion had long left him and he wanted to beg her forgiveness, but his voice would not come.

He felt incredibly weak, like a child facing the dark.

Ajo waved his hand and the vines that bound Galeia fell to the snow. She winced as the thorns pulled from her skin, spilling more red as they left.

He expected her to attack.

He wished she would. Let her beat him, let her spit and bite. Let her end his life if she could.

He would not stop her.

She didn't move to strike, but smoothed her clothing back into place. The view of her skin through the holes in her clothing, which had once been tantalizing, now humiliated him. He wanted to bury into the ground like the rodent he was.

Ajo spied something in her hand, and suddenly she was behind him. He opened his mouth to speak but his tongue was caught by severe pain.

A blade was in his neck. Ajo touched it and his fingers came away with red. He choked and sputtered but did not attempt to remove the weapon or answer her attack with his own.

He deserved this. He hoped the wound would somehow mark his end.

He fell onto his side, and the snow beneath him melted into red water as he listened to the crunch of Galeia's footsteps. From the corner of his eye he watched her limp to the sapling cradle and lift her child into her arms.

A voice echoed through the woods.

"Galeia!"

Her husband.

"Can you hear me? Galeia! Where are you?"

Galeia walked towards the voice, and her steps, proud and graceful, were like a queen's. In this simple action a message was sent:

I'm done with you forever.

In his mind, Ajo saw the woods watch as true nobility quit the scene of horror, leaving behind the pale imitation that looked after her helplessly. He knew she would return home and live on like nothing had happened. She would never call his name again, or desire to see him.

You deserve this, Lilith's voice whispered. Monster.

He curled into himself, praying for his life to drain away.

Hours had passed in seconds, and Ajo endured them in agony. As he wept he came to a decision, feeling that for the first time in his life he was making the right choice. He sent his energy through the woods, intending for it to reach the castle. He called for Fallow, his old friend and companion, in the stables. The stallion would come to him, and Ajo would lift himself onto the animal's back.

They would not return home. Ajo would never see his castle again.

Instead, they would venture into the world on a never-ending quest, alone and free.

He would forsake his throne and his kingdom. He would forget his mother and Galeia.

He would abandon the promise that bound Galeia's daughter to him.

The Ajo he was had died, he decided, and all that was left of the man was a red stain on the ground. It would be cleansed from the earth with the next gentle rain.

Footsteps approached, and with great struggle Ajo pulled himself to his knees.

"Fallow," he croaked, "help me, friend."

"Poor, pathetic creature, are you so resigned to die?"

He turned and his eyes fell on the feathered cowl and wretched face of the Gretch.