“Guard duty has become your new favorite thing, hasn’t it?” Tristan asked.
Lily turned to see him coming toward her and smiled up at him. She could still tell the difference between him and his double, although Tristan dressed like an Outlander now. He wore dark wearhyde from head to toe and his hair was getting longer, but there was still something about the way that he looked at her—a familiarity that only they shared—that set him apart from the other Tristan.
“Beats the hell out of lying on the ground, not sleeping,” she said.
“At least let yourself lean against something, Lil. You don’t have to punish yourself forever, you know,” he said.
“I’m not—” Lily started to argue, and stopped.
He was right. She had been punishing herself. She’d lied to Rowan for weeks by hiding the truth about Lillian, and although she had no idea how she could have handled the situation differently, she still felt guilty. She’d broken his heart, and it was the look he’d had on his face while she’d done it that kept her up at night.
“Okay. So I’m punishing myself,” Lily admitted.
Tristan could tell she didn’t want to talk about it and led her over to a large tree. He tugged on her hand until she sat down next to him and they rested their backs against the tree trunk, their shoulders touching.
“You ran that meeting well,” Tristan said after a long silence. “You’re a good leader.”
Lily let out a doubtful laugh. “I think I just lost half the group with that little speech.”
Tristan nodded. “Maybe that’s a good thing.”
“Yeah. Less blood on my hands.”
“Don’t say that. I only meant that you’re being honest, and that you’ll weed out the less committed that way.” Tristan turned to her, his face serious. “You’re the best chance these people have ever had for survival, and they know it. Whether they go cross-country, or stay huddled up against the cities, the chances are that most of them are going to die young because of the Woven anyway. At least with you they can take a few hundred down with them.” He suddenly smiled, his blue eyes glinting. “And fighting with a witch inside you is definitely more fun.”
Lily laughed and shook her head. “You’re enjoying this too much—running around the woods, killing things.”
“It has its perks,” he whispered, staring at her mouth.
Lily looked away, and cast around for something else to focus on. Tristan leaned back and let the moment pass so effortlessly that Lily wondered if she’d imagined a tension that wasn’t there. She felt him stiffen and followed his intense gaze out into the brush. Lily saw movement and a streak of pale fur. Tristan leaned forward to stand, but Lily put a hand out to stop him.
“She’s not going to attack,” Lily said quickly.
“She?” Tristan said, every muscle in his body still clenched for action. “You know that Woven?”
“She’s not a threat.” Lily sighed and ran a frustrated hand through her hair. “She led the coyote Woven pack that ambushed us outside of Baltimore, and she’s been following us since then. The thing is, every time she’s had a chance to kill me, she hasn’t. I can’t explain it, but there’s something different about her. She’s a leader somehow, an alpha. I haven’t figured it out yet, but there’s more to the Woven than just mindless killing. At least with a select few.”
Tristan’s eyes widened like he was worried about her. “A select few? Like certain breeds, or certain Woven?”
“I don’t know, Tristan. The more I watch the Woven, the more I think this world has been dealing with them the wrong way. Maybe we shouldn’t be out to destroy them all.” Lily leaned back and purposely clunked her head against the tree trunk. “But I have over thirty braves who are following me because I promised I was heading west to do just that. Do you think I’ve lost my mind?”
“Yeah,” he said casually. “But that pale Woven isn’t attacking. If she doesn’t attack us, why should we attack her?”