I can hardly believe we did it. We actually found a cure. The anti-vaccine scientists have been working on for decades is finally successful, and the mission Summus Aspens sent us on is now fulfilled.

But there's a nagging thought intruding within the victory—we have triumphed, but at what cost?

A crowd stands before me, anxious to get a glimpse of our victory—proof that the Skinwalkers aren't invincible. I search the sea of faces, amazed. This many people live in Perseca? Sure, I've only been here for a few days, but I've hardly seen anyone. I suppose that's what I get for keeping odd hours. Luke and I have been here for mere days, but I haven't interacted with many people outside the laboratory.

Their chatter leaves the night anything but quiet, the excited energy palpable. I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants as strangers gather around us.

"Rhett!" A man shouts. It's the young man who came running to wake up Luke and I earlier. He dashes to my brother and wraps his arms around his neck in a crushing hug. I peer at my brother over his shoulder. His eyes are shut in fierce relief.

Miles leans down to nudge my shoulder. "Know any eligible young ladies who could give me a welcome like that?" With a wink, he turns and greets two elderly ladies who are unabashedly checking out my friend.

I roll my eyes, but nervous energy still buzzes in my stomach. There is a hurricane of emotions inside me. Yes, I'm horrified that I've killed a dozen Skinwalkers, and I feel claustrophobic in this swell of people, but I am also happy for an entirely other reason. I've given the Outlanders hope.

I may not have the home I once knew, and I will never be able to view Herald's structured society as anything other than the offspring of the Skinwalker affliction, but I can't deny that Herald was once a place where I belonged. After Rhett went missing, I harbored no hope in my heart. Then when Markee was taken, I felt the loss all over again. I know what it's like to have such little drive—when you've misplaced any hope you once had and are merely surviving. But even hope so tiny as a mustard seed can inspire change. Hope is what drove me to the Outlands, and I have now found a place that was carved out just for me. My place in the world is in the Outlands, and I want to give that same gift of hope to anyone who is searching for their will to go on, just as I once had.

I look around at the faces hungry for change. There are wary folks with lined faces, and young children who know enough of the Skinwalkers to fear what is on the other side of that fence. The similitude hits me like a sack of flour, suffocating me with its truth. We have both experienced hiding behind our own walls under different circumstances, but fear is all the same. It does not discriminate.

The crowd presses in, and I feel my lungs burn as I fidget with the hem of my ill-fitting shirt.

"Hey," Luke says, pressing a hand to the small of my back as if he can sense my distress. He leans down to murmur in my ear. "Want to get out of here?"

With a weak smile, I nod. I turn to find Rhett and the young man from before nose-to-nose in a serious conversation. My eyes trail down to their joined hands and I can't help but smile a bit wider.

A handful of minutes later, we end up in the dining hall. I have never been here when the long tables are filled with people, but this time I know why. Everyone is making a spectacle out of the dead Skinwalkers, which leaves just me and Luke in the echoing space.

I push the image of those twisted faces out of my mind before I lose my appetite. It's been more than half a day since I've eaten anything, and a splitting headache is pummeling my skull.

Luke and I make our way to the back kitchens. The stainless steel counters and appliances remind me too much of the lab, and I almost spin around and walk right back out, but then Luke opens a door and pulls out a whole loaf of bread. It is perfectly bronzed and round, most likely baked this morning. I salivate at the yeasty aroma.

Hoisting myself onto the counter, I watch as he swipes some butter and a knife before making his way over to where I sit.

"Eat," he says, handing me a hefty chunk of buttered bread that I now know is imported from Herald. He doesn't ask me how I feel. He doesn't try to tell me to calm down. He just takes care of me. It's one of the things I've loved about Luke from the beginning. I've never had to outline how I feel or what I need. Somehow, he just knows. It's fascinating to have someone so in-tune with me like no other, not even Rhett.

I inhale the bread like it's the first thing I've eaten in days, and it immediately satiates the gnawing feeling in my stomach. The second piece I eat much slower, taking the time to chew and taste. The bread is fluffy on the inside, the butter creamy on my tongue. It's just what I needed.

Luke hasn't said a word. He knows I'll talk when I'm ready.

"What do we do next?" I ask quietly, brushing the crumbs off my lap. I'm mentally drained, but I know this is nowhere near over. We have only taken the first steps toward a long-term solution.

Luke polishes off the last of the loaf before swiping the crumbs off his fingers. "What we accomplished today is just the beginning. Your brother and any volunteers will be pretty busy soon."

I nod. "I'm sure they will be replicating the anti-vaccine for a while."

"And they will have to acquire atomizers with a wider range, because you are not doing that again."

I give him a grateful smile. I don't think I could stand out there and disperse it again, even if I tried. I will probably have nightmares for the rest of my life because of what I've done.

He steps between my dangling legs, as close as he can get with the counter in the way. His gaze bears down on me, and electricity sizzles between us. He is so close, and seeing him here is different from our nearness last night in the dark. Luke brings his hand up to brush his knuckles across my cheekbone. My eyelids flutter at the tender touch.

"You may not think so, but you can be so fierce sometimes, you know that? What you did back there was amazing. Incredible. Yes, I was worried stiff, but I know your heart. It is strong." His tone is low and gravelly, and it sends heat curling in my belly. "You were so brave. And you surely have saved us all."

I am at war with myself, torn between tackling him and breaking down to sob for days. I never thought I would find the courage to make the kind of choices I did today, much less leave Herald all those weeks ago on a mission to save the Outlands. I have never been called brave. That word was in my mental vocabulary with a footnote reading See: Markee.

Now I know that being brave doesn't mean being free of fear. Bravery is being scared and still moving forward when anxiety grips you by the ankles. It is taking those heavy steps when the fear tries to bind you to one place. It's not progress if you never even move.

And how far I have come.

In my lap, my fingers caress the soft leather of my satchel. When Sol gave it to me, the leather was tough and a solid color. Now, I can read the patina like a map of light and dark patches, as it has seen every step I've taken since leaving her village. You'll never find me without it at my hip. It is physical proof of the transformation within me. I trace over the embossed sun and compass, my fingertips having memorized the grooves weeks ago. It is familiar, and it is a part of me. My eyes follow my fingers up the point marking North, and then further up until I am peering into twin pools of deep green.

Releasing a shuddering breath, I slide my hands up Luke's broad chest to hook around his neck. The esteem in his verdant eyes is bracing, and I am filled to the brim with gratitude for having his support. The recognition lights a candle in my heart, and in his embrace, I feel home.

"Thank you," I say simply. But I know I don't have to explain as he leans down and kisses me.

He understands me just fine.

◊ ◊ ◊

The stars shine down on us, bathing our skin in pale light as we lay back on the conservatory's rooftop. Even from here, the crackling of the electric fence echoes through the night. They will remain on for the time being, but one day there will be no need for the electrified palisades surrounding Perseca, or any other settlement in the Outlands. It may be a long time from now, but we all have goals for the future of Natio.

Tonight is our last night in Perseca. Tomorrow, we set off to embark on the journey back to Keir where Luke and I will recruit help and resources to aid in the production and dispersal of the anti-vaccine. I can't wait to see Markee again. Will she still like the person I am now? Am I crazy for thinking that?

"The stars helped to guide our ancestors on their travels," Luke tells me in his soft, warm voice. Mind wandering with that information, I imagine what our own trek back to Keir will be like. This time, Luke and I will be together—truly together, guided by those distant pinpricks of light.

"They look brighter tonight," I muse, eyes roving the night sky like a map of the universe. It's as if the celestial bodies are glowing with anticipation just like we are.

Beside me, I feel Luke's hair brush my temple as he nods. "You can even make out Vulpecula. The little fox." He points to a cluster of stars in a zig-zag pattern. It is beautiful.

"I love when you show me the constellations," I murmur, angling my head toward him. It's dark out, but I can see that he is already looking at me.

"I love you." His words are a soft song on a wisp of air, floating gently through the night. His voice sings to me, beckoning me closer until our noses are touching. A flutter erupts in my chest when he intertwines our fingers. "I love you, Sophie," he says again, his breath fanning my cheek. It validates what I already knew in my heart. What I know deep in my bones, in the very marrow of my existence.

"I love you too," I breathe, my heart bare and vulnerable, trusting Luke with it completely. "I came to the Outlands with nothing. You have shown me how to live, and I fell in love with you in the process."

And then we melt into each other, with only the stars as our witness.