Callen returned to Gabrielle in time for the official dinner.
As expected, they were kept apart from most of the others.
Only a handful of people approached them directly—those few who were genuine enough not to care about the whispers. Everyone else kept their distance, their conversations dying whenever Callen or Gabrielle came near. Some looked away. Others watched from across the room with poorly concealed suspicion.
Neither of them commented on it.
On the journey back, Gabrielle became unusually quiet.
She sat opposite Callen, one hand resting loosely against the carriage window, her gaze fixed on the darkness outside. She had not said a word since they left.
Callen wasn't much different.
He sat with his arms folded, staring ahead, his thoughts clearly somewhere else.
By the time they reached his estate, neither had spoken.
The carriage slowed.
Then the driver heard a faint signal from Callen.
Without warning, he pulled the reins and took a sharp turn off the main road.
The carriage disappeared between the trees.
Branches scraped softly against the sides as the path narrowed. Then the forest changed.
Fog began gathering between the trunks.
Not ordinary fog.
Magic.
It curled around the carriage in thick, pale layers, swallowing the road behind them until there was nothing to see but trees. Even the sound of the outside world seemed to disappear.
They went deeper.
Then, just as suddenly, the trees opened.
A camp appeared in the clearing.
Tents stretched across the woodland floor, fires burned between them, and dozens of men and women moved through the camp. Some were training. Others sat around fires talking and laughing. A few were sparring near the edge of the clearing.
The moment Gabrielle stepped out of the carriage, the atmosphere changed.
People began cheering.
Applause broke out across the camp.
Gabrielle smiled.
She moved through them, greeting people one by one, accepting embraces and congratulations, occasionally laughing at something someone said.
Callen barely acknowledged any of it.
He walked straight toward the largest tent at the centre of the camp.
Inside, it was quiet.
He sat down on a wooden chair.
For several seconds, he simply stared at the floor.
Then he tied his hands to the chair.
His breathing slowed.
His head dipped.
And he fell asleep.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then Callen's shadow moved.
It stretched across the floor.
Something began forming inside it.
First came the feet.
Then the legs.
The shape slowly climbed upward, building itself from darkness—limbs, torso, shoulders, neck.
A figure emerged as though the shadow were giving birth to a body.
It was taller than Callen, broader through the shoulders, with stronger arms and legs built for violence rather than elegance.
The figure stood completely still.
Then its eyes opened.
For an instant, the irises flashed with different colours.
One shifted through shades of blue and violet.
The other flickered like the Northern Lights.
The figure clenched its fists, flexed its fingers, and rolled its shoulders.
Then the colours settled.
One eye became a black iris surrounding a white pupil.
The darkness covering its body began to recede.
Shadow turned into skin.
Darkness became honey-brown flesh.
Scars ran across its back. Another long scar cut across its cheek.
And when the transformation finally ended, Reagan stood in the tent.
Naked and utterly expressionless.
There was nothing obviously evil about her.
Nothing benevolent either.
Her presence simply felt wrong in a way that was difficult to explain.
She looked toward the sleeping Callen.
Then she exhaled.
"Empty shell."
Her voice was low and eerie, almost unused.
"I didn't think walking around in your skin would turn me into such an emotional wuss."
She flexed her fingers.
"Still... it served our purpose efficiently."
Reagan reached for a pair of trousers lying beside the chair and pulled them on. She grabbed a loose shawl and wrapped it around herself.
That was when the tent flap suddenly opened.
Gabrielle stepped inside.
Reagan's hand lifted instantly.
Magic ignited across her palm.
Gabrielle stopped, then slowly raised both hands.
"Are you always this tense after skinwalking?"
Reagan stared at her.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Reagan lowered her hand, sat heavily on the edge of the chair, and let out a quiet chuckle.
"I am the most dangerous after."
Gabrielle lowered her hands.
Reagan leaned forward, elbows resting against her knees.
"My mind isn't fully back yet."
Her strange eyes lifted toward Gabrielle.
"And when I'm not fully myself..."
A faint smile touched her lips.
"...I tend to forget which people I'm supposed to leave alive."
Gabrielle watched her for a moment before walking over and sitting down.
"What was that?"
Reagan glanced at her.
"You just left," Gabrielle continued. "Without a word. And now here you are...looking as though you might murder someone for breathing too loudly."
"I might."
"Rea."
"What?"
Gabrielle's mouth tightened.
"You know what."
Reagan gave a quiet laugh and reached for a shirt.
"Callen has always been a wimp. It rubs off on me sometimes."
Gabrielle's lips pursed.
"His anxieties. Of course."
"His anxieties, mine, the circumstances. It all became a little overwhelming."
"How convenient."
Reagan paused with the shirt halfway over her head.
Gabrielle offered her most teasing smile.
"I choose to believe you."
Reagan snorted and pulled the shirt on.
Gabrielle looked away. She had no right to be jealous.
And yet Rea had walked away from Annabella and returned unsettled.
Gabrielle wanted to know what had happened.
She was less certain she wanted to hear the answer.
Her gaze shifted to the motionless body still sitting in the chair.
"So he's still in there?"
Reagan followed her gaze.
"Callen is dead. But some of his essence remains." She tapped two fingers against her temple. "I need it there to wear his skin. Without it, I couldn't reproduce him accurately enough."
Gabrielle studied the body.
Something softened in her face.
"I really hoped we wouldn't have to do that to him."
Reagan didn't answer.
Gabrielle looked at her again, but Rea had already turned toward the fruit platter on the side table.
She picked up a pear and took a bite.
"Although, I must say, this little emotional outburst created an opportunity."
Gabrielle waited.
"I met Harry's offspring."
"Did you?"
The question came out too quickly.
Gabrielle settled back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other as though she hadn't spoken at all.
Reagan didn't seem to notice.
"Quite bright for such a foolish father. Poor devil."
Gabrielle picked at a loose thread on her sleeve.
"I'm sure He got the smart from his mother. She wouldn't be delighted to hear you say so."
Reagan stopped chewing.
Her eyes moved slowly toward Gabrielle.
Reagan's expression sharpened for a moment before she swallowed.
" That is hardly relevant."
Gabrielle shrugged.
"No, I suppose not."
Then, as though the thought had only just occurred to her, she added, "Speaking of his mother... I met her."
Gabrielle's fingers went still.
She had been waiting for Rea to mention Annabella.
Now that she had, Gabrielle found herself wishing she hadn't.
"Oh?"
Reagan leaned against the table.
"Yes."
Gabrielle looked at the pear in Rea's hand.
Then at her face.
"Was it strange?"
Reagan raised an eyebrow.
"Meeting her?"
"Meeting her alone."
The clarification slipped out before Gabrielle could soften it.
Reagan watched her.
Gabrielle's cheeks warmed—not enough to betray her to anyone else, but enough to irritate her. She lifted her chin.
"I only mean that you've spent years avoiding her. I wondered whether seeing her without an audience would be different."
"Different how?"
Gabrielle gave a small, humourless laugh.
"How should I know? That's why I'm asking you."
Reagan's mouth twitched.
Gabrielle hated that she could read her so easily when she wanted to.
"I felt nothing,"Reagan said.
Gabrielle searched her face.
"Nothing at all?"
"Must I repeat myself?"
"No."
Gabrielle dropped her gaze.
"Once is enough."
The words came out quieter than she intended.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Reagan took another bite of fruit.
"I managed to get her attention. That's what matters."
Gabrielle's eyes lifted again.
"Did you?"
There it was: the question she hadn't meant to ask.
Reagan looked at her.
Gabrielle forced a smile.
"She's difficult to impress. I imagine getting her attention must have taken some effort."
"Not particularly."
"Of course not."
Gabrielle's smile remained in place, but her thumb pressed hard into the fabric of her sleeve.
Reagan had always been able to provoke a reaction from Annabella. Even when they hated each other, even when everything between them had become a battlefield, they had possessed a way of finding each other's weak spots.
Gabrielle knew that.
She also knew that she had never been part of whatever lived between them.
She had no intention of asking whether that had changed.
Instead, she said, "Well, What is the next step."
Reagan studied her for a beat longer than was comfortable.
Then she set the fruit aside.
"Now we keep her busy."
Gabrielle seized the change of subject with more relief than she cared to admit.
"Busy doing what?"
"Digging into Callen. Let her chase every inconsistency around him. Let her waste her time trying to understand what he may or may not be part of."
Reagan pushed away from the table and walked toward her.
"She'll keep looking until she finds something."
"And while she's looking?"
"We move."
Reagan pulled a chair over and sat directly opposite Gabrielle.
Her elbows rested on her knees.
"She is the only thing keeping this realm functioning."
Gabrielle's expression grew serious.
Reagan intertwined her fingers.
"We take her out."
A beat.
"Harry becomes defenceless."
Gabrielle exhaled slowly.
"You make it sound simple."
"It isn't. That's why we're going to play our part as best we can."
Gabrielle watched her.
Then she asked, "And if Annabella sees through us?"
"She won't."
"You sound very sure."
"I know how she thinks."
Gabrielle's expression barely changed.
"Do you?"
Reagan's eyes narrowed.
Gabrielle immediately looked down, pretending to smooth a crease in her skirt.
"I'm asking because she has always been cunning. And suspicious. Much time has passed since, we barely know anything tangible about her apart from the fact that she controls the economy. Her political moves are almost...invisible."
Reagan leaned back.
"Good."
Gabrielle looked up.
"Good?"
"That will be her undoing. People who are as umpredictable as she is eventually become unable to recognize the truth when it is standing directly in front of them."
Gabrielle considered that.
Then, carefully, she asked, "And you? Will you be able to go through with the plan?"
Reagan's faint smile disappeared.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Gabrielle... do you doubt me? "
She met Rea's gaze.
For a moment, the playful mask fell away. Beneath it was a woman who had spent years standing beside Rea, learning when to challenge her and when to let silence do the work.
"I just don't want you to confuse wanting to end this cycle with needing to prove something to yourself."
The tent went quiet.
Reagan stared at her.
Gabrielle's heart gave a hard, unpleasant thump. She had said too much.
So she softened her tone.
"We have too much at stake. That's all."
Reagan looked away first.
"Don't worry about me."
Gabrielle almost laughed.
That was precisely what she was worried about.
"Of course... I am going to worry... We are a team."
She walked toward Reagan, then paused with one hand on her cheek.
"And Rea?"
"What?"
"I hope you know you can trust me."
Reagan said nothing.
Gabrielle's fingers caressed her cheek gently with her thumb.
"You don't have to pretend with me. I know you are hurting."
For one fragile second, she wanted Rea to deny it—not with that cold, dismissive certainty, but with something warmer. Something that would tell Gabrielle she still had a place in the part of Rea that no strategy could reach.
Instead, Reagan glanced toward Callen's motionless body.
Then back at her.
"Annabella and her kingdom of lies are about to fall from grace."
The answer was deliberate.
Gabrielle recognized the evasion for what it was.
She nodded once.
She left before Rea could see how much the answer had hurt.
And she hated herself a little for hoping Rea would call her back.