The forest clearing was still. Moonlight spilled through the canopy, glinting off Jane's glasses as she knelt beside Levi.
The demon queen's breath came shallow, her black hair streaked with white, her wings dragging heavily against the grass. She looked smaller like this, diminished—but no less fierce.
Jane's throat burned as she whispered, "Please… hold on."
Levi opened her eyes, their golden glow faint but steady. "Do not… waste your tears on me, little witch. I endure."
Jane clenched her jaw, brushing her fingers against Levi's cheek. "Not alone you don't."
Behind her, Mira was pacing, lantern light cutting wild arcs across the trees. "Teleportation like that—do you know the cost? She's burning herself away."
Jane turned sharply, ready to defend Levi—but to her surprise, Ryn spoke first.
"Then we help her recover." The shifter's voice was firm, his arms crossed but his eyes steady on Levi. "Whatever else she is, she saved us. That's worth something."
Mira faltered. "But she's—"
"Alive," Ryn cut her off. "And keeping us alive, too."
Harrow grunted from where he leaned against a tree. "We patch her up. She gets her strength back. Then we see if she's truly the queen the stories promised—or just another tyrant waiting for her turn."
Jane's chest eased, just a little. She glanced back at Mira, who still looked wary but finally nodded.
"Fine," the engineer muttered. "But she'll need more than bandages. That kind of spell… it eats from the inside out. She'll need time. Care. Resources we don't have much of."
"I'll find them," Jane said, her voice stronger than she felt. She adjusted her glasses, her gaze steady. "I'll do whatever it takes."
Levi stirred weakly, her hand brushing against Jane's metal arm. "You would… fight your own kind for me?"
Jane met her golden eyes, unflinching. "I already have."
For a moment, the night seemed to hold its breath. Then Ryn crouched nearby, setting down his pack. Mira began rummaging through her satchel, pulling out herbs and small vials. Even Harrow fetched water from the stream.
Slowly, reluctantly, Jane's friends gathered around the fallen queen—not as allies, not yet, but not as enemies either.
And for the first time since the escape, Jane felt something dangerous flicker in her chest.
Hope.
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