Marjorie stared at her rippling reflection in the river water. Her wet hair appeared a deep red, redder than ever before. The whites of her eyes were almost undecipherable from the freckled skin at the top of her round cheekbones. The crimson colors made everything run into each other, creating a mess of blacks, reds, and pinks.

As she sat on her knees, every muscle inside her trembling body clenched together in stress, preparing for a fresh burst of pain that would never come—a natural response when one believes they are dying.

They were lucky. Below the cliffside, a pool of water deep enough to take the impact lay, waiting to soften their fall. When her head broke the surface of the water and she took her first lungful of air, Petyr grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her to the gravel shoreline.

She remained there, shock trapped in her body, as Petyr and Fenris heated the cold air with angry words. With each passing second, their deep voices increased in volume. How that was possible, Marjorie did not know.

She twisted around to watch their bickering.

Fenris shifted back minutes ago. There were no clothes for him to wear, and his long black curls were soaked against his dark back. He looked angry, his white teeth bared and his fist clenching the limp collar of the black cape. Marjorie assumed it to be black. But in the true sunlight, it could be anything from a dark purple to a royal blue.

"You nearly killed her," Petyr shouted. The water plastered his white tunic against the hard surface of his heaving chest, outlining every inch of his torso in fine detail. His long hair framed his face in wet, golden tendrils, almost as though curious fingers pushed at the curves of his cheekbones.

"I was mistaken," Fenris growled. He brought the cape to his nose and inhaled. "Vivian is smarter than I assumed."

"Being smarter than a dog is hardly an achievement," Petyr rushed out. His hands came to rest on his axe, where it remained latched to his leather belt.

"Careful Woodsman." Fenris's eyes followed Petyr's movement. "You might discover this dog bites."

Marjorie rose from the gravel shore. Like magick, their eyes settled on her and their lips sealed.

"You both tire me," she admitted. She brought her fists to her wet hair and twisted. At her touch, water spilled from the weighed down locks.

"I am sorry," Petyr whispered, but there was no shame in his voice. He took a step forward. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel as though we have been tricked," Marjorie said, hating the way the words tasted on her tongue. She raised her finger to the dark fabric in Fenris's hand. "We have a witch's cloak. Not a witch. Why?"

Fenris bowed his head. "To Vivian, this must be a simple game," he admitted. "For the last century, she has imagined the ways I would run to her. She knew I trusted my nose most. She magicked the robe. She tricked me, not you."

"Why do we still sit here and mourn this?" Marjorie asked. "Why are we bickering like fools while she takes the lives of our friends? Petyr, you threaten the only man who can take us to your family."

"I threaten a wolf that allowed you to be thrown off the edge of a cliff."

"We fell," Marjorie seethed. "We all did. Now, as you both waste what little time we have left to stop the slaughter of the only life we have ever known, I will not. I am leaving this forest."

She turned on the heels of her wet leather boots, only to find Fenris's warm hand wrapped around her bicep. His unexpected touch froze Marjorie in mid-step.

"Why?" Fenris's fingers tightened. There was a lonely flicker in his dark eyes, as if Marjorie's words cut him deeper than she had meant them to. Perhaps he thought she was abandoning him.

In a way, she was. She had to.

"Do you see Vivian?"

He didn't waste a moment to glance around the forest. "Of course not."

Marjorie shrugged off his hand. "Then what reason do I have to stay here?" She twisted away from the two men once again, disgust bubbling at the bottom of her stomach. Neither Woodsman nor Wolf could push down his own ego.

"I am coming, too," Fenris asked. He pulled the black cloak over his broad shoulders, concealing nearly every inch of his bareness. "If you will allow it."

"Me too," Petyr added, hiding his shame by staring at the toes of his shoes. "If... if you'll still have me, that is?"

"Fenris, you said it yourself, Vivian has spent the last century imagining this night." She turned her gaze to the empty red night above. Marjorie missed the golden twinkling of stars, dark skies of deep blue, and the humble face of a white moon. "I am the only person who can stop her. I cannot do that while both of you are at odds."

"Marjorie, I am not letting you go on your own," The Wolf said. "Your safety is what matters most to me. What I can say matters most to both of us."

Petyr nodded at his words. For the first time, they agreed on something.

"What I said to Fenris was out of anger," Petyr whispered. "When I watched you fall, I believed I was watching you die. I apologize for that."

She twisted her feet on the gravel. It crunched as she took her first step. Both of the men remained frozen, watching her walk away in silence.

"Are you coming?" Marjorie beckoned them forward with her hand.

Two white smiles welcomed her words.

"Where are we going?" Petyr asked.

"I possess a Spark," Marjorie said. "I will follow that."

AN

A shorter chapter this time! I hope you all enjoy! Please, don't forget to like and comment! Also, isn't it insane I'm going to enter this into the Watty's and this very book didn't exist two months ago?