Chapter 62 62

Chapter 62 62
Chapter 61

Amarien's POV

The forest swallowed us whole.

Branches clawed at my sleeves as we walked, the earth uneven beneath my boots. Garrick moved ahead like he owned the terrain, parting brush with lazy confidence. I followed a few steps behind, careful not to trip over roots or my own thoughts.

For a while, we walked in silence. Just the crunch of leaves, the distant call of birds, and the steady rhythm of two people who did not trust each other.

Then Garrick spoke.

"So," he said casually, not looking back, "where are you from, truly?"

My stomach tightened.

“From here,” I replied evenly. “Unfortunately.”

He chuckled under his breath. “No. Not the territory. Before that.”

I kept my gaze fixed ahead. “You mean before I married your brother?”

“I mean, before you became… her.”

My pulse skipped.

I forced a light shrug. “You’re being vague.”

“You don’t belong here,” he said simply.

The words landed too cleanly.

I stiffened. “I was banished. Of course, I don’t belong here.” He shook his head like a disappointment parent at a PTA meeting.

“That’s not what I meant.”

He slowed slightly, enough that we were walking side by side now. I hated how perceptive his eyes were, like he was dissecting me layer by layer.

“What did you love before all this?” he asked. 

The question felt like a trap.

“I loved surviving,” I said dryly.

“Books?” he tried. “Music? Late nights? Strange foods that don’t exist in our markets?”

My heart lurched so violently I nearly stumbled.

What’s wrong with this guy?

I forced a frown. “You’re guessing wildly.”

“Am I?” His lips curved into a knowing smirk.

My mind raced.

How does he know these things?

The forest suddenly felt less wild and more watchful. Like I wasn’t just being escorted, I was being studied.

“I don’t see how any of that matters,” I said carefully. 

Garrick hummed, unbothered. “Humor me.”

“I don’t want to.” clamped my arms around myself.

He glanced at me sidelong. “You talk differently.”

The air left my lungs.

“Differently how?” I asked, avoiding his eyes and praying my voice didn’t betray me.

“Like someone who isn't from this universe,” he said, mid-chuckle. “You ask questions no one here thinks to ask. You reference things that don’t exist. You react to danger like one who has never seen it before.”

I let out a sharp, nervous laugh. “Sorry, I’m not barbaric enough for you.”

“I didn't mean to insult you, my lady,” he replied calmly. “It’s just an observation.”

We walked a few more steps.

He wasn’t pushing loudly. That was the unsettling part. No accusations. No threats. Just quiet prodding, like he was testing how slowly I'll unravel if he pushes hard enough.

“Do you miss it?” he asked suddenly.

“Miss what?”

“Wherever your mind goes when you stare at nothing.”

I clenched my jaw.

Stanford libraries. Neon lights. Traffic noise. My mother’s voice over the phone. A world where monsters were fictional, and witches were Halloween costumes.

I shoved the memories down.

“I think you’re bored,” I said flatly. “And inventing mysteries to entertain yourself.”

He shrugged and didn’t deny it. Just kept walking with that infuriating smirk.

He knew something.

Or suspected something.

And that terrified me more than lynching ever had.

Because if Garrick figured out the truth, that I wasn’t Ravena, that I had woken up in her body.

What would he do?

Use it?

Expose me?

Kill me?

Oh damnnit, he will!

If he knew I transmigrated, if he knew I wasn’t the girl born to this land…

I might as well dig my own grave.

The forest path narrowed. Garrick moved ahead again, cutting vines with a small blade at his belt.

He spoke without looking at me. “You don’t have to lie so carefully. It’s exhausting.”

My breath hitched.

“I’m not lying,” I said.

“Of course you aren’t,” he dropped with humour.

How could someone be so dangerous and playful at once?

That smirk again.

God, I wanted to wipe it off his face.

Instead, I let silence swallow me.

I know what to do.

If he’s fishing for secrets, he’ll starve.

While we are together, I’ll be as quiet as I can so I don't slip-ups or make strange references. 

I will be Ravena. Just for two more weeks!

If he knows the real me, he might as well kill me while I’m here.

The deeper we walked, the darker the forest became.

Garrick slowed his pace just enough that I could hear him clearly over the rustle of leaves. “You should know something,” he said.

I didn’t look at him. “That you enjoy dramatic pauses?”

He ignored that. “The road to the Blood Sea is a gauntlet.”

“Oh, wonderful.” I spat sarcastically

“There are thieves who don’t care if you’re a woman or a wolf. There are beasts that hunt in silence. Things that don’t leave bones behind.” His voice was calm, almost conversational. “And monsters that look like men.”

I snorted softly. “You just described half the territory we left.”

He shot me a glance but continued. “You don’t have to go.”

I finally looked at him. “I do.”

“You don’t,” he repeated. “You could stay.”

“With you?” I asked flatly.

“Yes.”

The confidence in his voice made me stop walking.

I turned slowly, studying him like he’d just suggested we picnic in a battlefield. “You?” I said. “Nah. I’m good.”

He laughed. “Gods, you sound just like her.”

My stomach dropped. “Like who?”

“A little friend of mine,” he said, watching my reaction carefully. “Stubborn. Sharp-tongued. Always pretending she’s not afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” I said automatically.

He smirked. “Exactly.”

I crossed my arms. “And what does that have to do with me?”

He tilted his head, studying me in a way that made my pulse misfire. “You don’t sound like her at all.”

The world narrowed.

“What does Ravena sound like?” I asked, keeping my tone neutral.

“Careful,” he said. “Measured. Raised on pack politics. She knew when to stay silent.”

“That sounds boring.” I rolled my eyes.

His eyes sharpened. “You’re not boring.”

I looked away before he could read anything in my face. My heart was hammering too loudly. 

Don’t react. Don’t defend yourself. Don’t explain anything!

He stepped closer.

“You’re different.”

I kept my gaze on a patch of moss by his shoulder. “Maybe exile changes people.”

“Maybe,” he agreed. “Or maybe you were never here to begin with.”

My breath caught.

He moved into my line of sight, tilting my chin up so I looked at him.

Our eyes met.

For a split second, I felt exposed, like he could peel back my skin and see the truth stitched underneath. The girl from another world. The fraud in Ravena’s body.

I broke eye contact first.

He noticed.

His fingers wrapped suddenly around my arm, and he yanked me forward until I collided with his chest.

“Look at me,” he murmured.

“I am,” I lied, staring at his collarbone instead.

His grip tightened slightly. “You don’t belong to him.”

The words came out rough. Not in his teasing tone now. 

“You don’t belong to this punishment. To exile. To chasing cursed seas.” 

His thumb brushed against my wrist unconsciously, like he didn’t realize he was doing it. “Stay.”

“No” 

“Yes.”

The forest felt too small around us.

“Why?” I asked carefully.

His jaw flexed. “Because I see you.”

“You see a woman who embarrassed your brother,” I said. “That’s all.”

“No,” he said firmly. “I see someone who doesn’t fit the cage they put her in.”

I swallowed.

That was too close to the truth.

“You’re projecting,” I muttered. “Find another hobby.”

He huffed a short laugh, but his eyes didn’t soften. “You know,” he said, voice lowering, “you really don’t sound like Ravena.”

“I am Ravena.”

He searched my face again, intense and unblinking.

Then, abruptly, he pulled me closer to himself, breath on my face.

“Marry me.”