Some of them stayed. They were too old or too well adapted or had been in the Permafrost too long to ever truly acclimatize to the world of men again. They continued to work, but now it was on their own time and by their own choice. Some became changelings and I’d witnessed some of the ceremonies I thought originally were going to happen to me when Soren first revealed the reason he took me on the Hunt. Seeing human features gradually change into goblin as the days passed was slightly unnerving.

Those who did leave, which were most, were guided safely back to the human world. Sometimes I thought about them. If they’d found family. Had reunions. Were they tearful? Joyful? Were they accepted once more? I could only hope so. Even with Soren being able to erase those bonds, we were still considered so affected by its magic that barely any people considered us human. Monstrous, animals. I’d grown up listening to my father talk about such things, and in the end, I’d even killed a few of those men.

But this line of thought wasn’t going to help me relax.

When I got to our shared quarters and more specifically to our bedroom, I sighed as I took the heavy antler bone torq off my neck and placed it carefully on the table. Doing so gave me a bit of peace. While the torq wasn’t in any way a source of my power, it did help amplify my connection to the land. The little whispers in my head and pulls of feeling as creatures completed their natural cycles, loved, lived, died, were louder, and while I could still feel it without the torq, at least I could ignore it a bit easier.

I collapsed on the sleeping platform, suddenly exhausted. Maybe Soren was right. Rest would be good for me.

But it didn’t come. Despite my comfort, I tossed and turned in the furs; my mind raced through any attempts to calm it. I was still awake when, hours later, Soren came in. “Can’t sleep?” he asked.

“Can’t sleep,” I confirmed. “Guess I better get used to it.”

He unhooked his sword belt and hung it over one of the chairs before coming to sit next to my head. “You need sleep. Even your eye bags have eye bags.”

“Gee, thanks. As if I wasn’t self-conscious enough with my appearance,” I muttered.

Soren rolled his eyes. “You could have three eyes, a horn, and webbed feet, and I’d still think you were the most beautiful person in the world. You are.”

I gave him the ghost of a smile. Maybe I wasn’t traditionally beautiful as much as I wished, but hey, neither was Satu, and she seemed to be doing fine for herself. I had Soren. Soren loved me no matter what. That mattered.

“You’re beautiful too,” I said.