It was two days after Reed agreed to raid the cannibals’ cave. The days had passed in a blur of preparation and uneasy silence. They both knew what was coming, and neither of them wanted to rush into it unprepared.

Jenny had spent the time adapting—learning how to work with her left hand, getting used to the weight of her knife, and trying to reclaim some of the independence she’d lost. Her braid was gone now, replaced by a jagged mess of short hair she’d cut herself. It wasn’t pretty, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was survival.

Reed, for his part, had made another trip to his gang. He hadn’t told them about Jenny, but he’d shared just enough of his plan to explain his longer-than-usual absence. “For loot and stuff,” he’d said casually, and that was enough to keep their questions at bay.

Now, back at their makeshift camp, they were in the final stage of preparation. The cave wasn’t far, and this time, the cannibals would be ready. Reed knew that. Jenny knew it too. But they were determined to make it work.

Jenny’s breaths came slow and steady as she worked the blade in her left hand. It wasn’t pretty—her strikes were deliberate but awkward, the movement stilted. She shifted her stance, adjusting her grip, and tried again. The blade glinted in the dim light as it arced forward, stopping midair before she pulled it back to her side.

She gritted her teeth and focused on the motions, ignoring the sting of fatigue in her shoulder.

From the edge of the clearing, Reed watched silently, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed. Ember, the scaled dragonhorse, stood behind him, her nostrils flaring as she sniffed the air. The creature’s clawed hooves shifted restlessly on the dry ground, but she stayed close, her reptilian tail flicking lazily.

“You’re getting better,” Reed said finally, breaking the silence.

Jenny stopped mid-strike and turned to him, her light gray eyes narrowing. “Not good enough,” she muttered, flipping the blade in her hand and gripping it tightly again. “If I can’t do this right, I’m useless out there.”

“You’re not useless,” Reed said, his tone casual but firm. He pushed off the tree and walked over, Ember following a step behind. “Just slow. And that’s not a crime—yet.”

Jenny scowled, but she didn’t argue. She turned back to the makeshift dummy she’d set up—a bundle of sticks tied together and stuck in the ground—and swung again. This time, the knife landed solidly, embedding itself with a satisfying thunk.

Reed gave a low whistle. “See? Progress. You won’t be as fast as me, but then again, who is?”

Jenny snorted, rolling her eyes as she retrieved the blade. “Your ego must be exhausting to carry around.”

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“Lightens the load when I’m around dead weight like you,” he shot back with a grin. When she glared at him, he held up his hands in mock surrender. “Kidding. Mostly.”

She shook her head, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “You’re an ass.”

“And you’re slow,” he retorted, still grinning. “But at least you’re improving.”

Jenny wiped the sweat from her forehead and finally turned away from the dummy, her gaze flicking to Ember. The dragonhorse was standing closer now, her scaled sides rising and falling with each breath. Jenny reached out cautiously, her fingers brushing against the creature’s thick, leathery hide. Ember snorted, her head tilting slightly as if considering whether to accept the gesture. Then, surprisingly, she leaned into Jenny’s touch.

Reed raised an eyebrow. “She likes you now?”

Jenny glanced at him. “I wouldn’t go that far. But she’s stopped trying to kill me every time I get close.”

“Good enough,” Reed said with a shrug. “Just don’t get too attached. Ember’s a sweetheart compared to what we’re walking into.”

Jenny’s smile faded as the weight of his words settled over them. She stepped away from the dragonhorse, tucking the knife into her belt. “You talked to your... friends?” she asked.

Reed nodded, his grin replaced by something more serious. “Yeah. Told them I’m planning to hit the cave. They bought it.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his expression briefly clouding. “Didn’t mention you, though. They wouldn’t understand.”

Jenny tilted her head. “Why not?”

“Because they’re like Ember was when you first met her—skittish, territorial, and mean as hell,” he said simply. He hesitated, then added, “Especially Laura. She’d probably shoot you just because of your arm.”

Jenny frowned, her lips pressing into a thin line. “What’s her problem?”

Reed shrugged, though his expression darkened slightly. “She’s... intense. Doesn’t like dead weight, and she definitely doesn’t like competition.” He paused, glancing at Jenny. “And, well... she wouldn’t like me spending this much time with someone else.”

Jenny raised an eyebrow. “What, is she your girlfriend or something?”

Reed scoffed, shaking his head. “Laura? Nah. She’s... well, let’s just say she’s not big on labels. Life out here’s not exactly about long-term commitments.”

There was a flicker of something in his eyes—resignation, understanding—but his tone stayed light. “But trust me, if she saw you now, it wouldn’t end well.”

Jenny smirked faintly, leaning back. “Good thing I’m not planning to meet her.”

“Yeah,” Reed said, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. “Good thing.”

He turned away then, his posture casual, but Jenny couldn’t shake the sense that there was more to his words than he was letting on.

Jenny frowned, but she didn’t press. She turned her attention back to the plan. “And the cave? How do we approach it?”

Reed leaned back, his expression grim. “Carefully. Last time, I had surprise on my side. This time, they’ll know someone’s coming.”

Jenny’s left arm folded across her chest, the absence of its counterpart doing nothing to soften her determined expression. “Then we plan. Every step. Every strike.”

Reed smirked. “Now you’re talking.” He gestured to Ember. “You’ve got her on your side now, too. That’s no small thing.”

Jenny glanced at the dragonhorse, who was watching her with intelligent, slitted eyes. She nodded slowly, her hand brushing against the knife at her belt. “Let’s make it count.”

Reed’s grin widened, but there was a flicker of something else in his expression—respect, perhaps. “We will.”

The two of them turned toward the horizon, where the sun was beginning to set over the jagged rocks and cracked earth. The cave wasn’t far now, and the time for preparation was nearly over.