The Witch in the Woods: The Transmigration of Hazel-Anne Davis

Shadow was already waiting when I stepped outside the war room.

He lay stretched across the frost-kissed stone path like a great serpent uncoiled, his head resting on one paw while his tail twitching faintly. The guards and servants gave him a wide berth, and I was pretty sure that the wolf could smell the fear coming off them.

It was technically a smart move on their part. He only tolerated humans when I told him to—and even then, only barely.

He didn't lift his head when I approached. Just opened one eye, pale and gleaming, the color of ash after fire.

"You're early," I murmured, lowering myself to sit beside him on the cold stone. "Or did you just never leave?"

The hellhound exhaled. Not quite a growl. Not quite a sigh.

I reached out and ran my fingers through the thick fur along his spine. It was coarse in some places, matted with soot and blood in others. But under the grime was warmth. Power. Loyalty. The kind that didn't need words or titles.

"I'm going again," I said, more to the wind than to him. "You'll come, won't you?"

He blinked once, and I took that as a yes.

Tank's gift was the one that kept on giving, and I didn't think I would be where I was now if I hadn't found him on that first night in the cave.

I guess he really was a 'good boy'.

I continued to pet the giant creature in the quiet of the courtyard. Snow hadn't fallen yet, but the air had the bite of it—sharp and dry and full of warning. In the distance, the manor creaked faintly with life. Somewhere on the other side of the walls, ministers were panicking over troop numbers and treaty lines. Somewhere inside, concubines were whispering about poison and heirs.

But here, in this moment in time, it was just the two of us.

I leaned back on my hands and watched the sky. No stars. Just thick gray clouds, low and heavy like a blanket threatening to fall.

"I never wanted any of this," I said softly. "Not the palace. Not the war. Not the throne behind him."

Shadow made a low sound in his throat. Agreement, maybe. Or hunger.

"I only ever wanted to survive. I only wanted a place that I could call my own. I thought Hattie had screw up, that maybe my wish had taken on that negative turn they so often do. But now I know that it didn't screw up. Hattie was trying to teach me a lesson… in that round about way of hers. If I wanted to call a place my own, I first had to fight for it. Nothing is ever given away freely."

He raised his head slightly and nosed at the pouch on my hip. I pulled out a dried meat strip and held it up. He took it delicately, jaw clicking once before he lay back down.

I didn't hear Yaozu approach. I just felt him.

The air shifted slightly—pressure moving sideways. He never made noise unless he wanted to.

"I wondered where you'd gone," he said quietly.

I didn't turn. "The war room was too loud."

He stepped into view and crouched beside me, one knee to the stone, the other foot planted. "You needed air."

"I needed peace."

"And you found it here?"

I finally looked at him. "Strange as it sounds, yes."

He glanced at Shadow, who watched him without blinking.

"Does he still want to kill me?"

"Only a little."

"I can live with that."

He offered a bundle of black fabric.

"New armor," he said. "Reinforced silk lined with heat-treated iron weave. Lightweight. Resistant to arrows and minor blades."

I took it carefully and laid it across my lap.

It was beautiful—sleek, black, finely threaded. Every seam was reinforced. Every edge tailored to my exact shape. It was not a soldier's armor. It was a queen's—built for movement and violence, not ceremony.

"You made this?" I asked.

He nodded once.

"I thought you were a killer, not a tailor."

"I'm both."

I smiled faintly. "That explains the stitching."

He didn't smile back. Just reached for the shoulder strap and adjusted the knot with one hand. "You'll need this tighter near the gorge. Wind's harsher there."

"You've scouted it?"

"Twice. The cliffs are stable, but the pass is narrow. If they think we're just traders, we can slip in before they ever see your face."

"I don't need them to see my face," I said. "Just the flames."

We both fell silent for a moment.

Then he asked, "Are you ready?"

"No."

He didn't ask why.

I slid off the bench and began to unfasten the outer layer of my robe, shrugging free of the silk and cold air in one motion. He didn't look away. He didn't leer, either. Just waited, hands open, focused.

I handed him the robe and stepped into the armor. The silk clung at first—cold against the cuts down my spine—but then settled like a second skin.

Yaozu moved behind me, tugging the shoulder straps into place. His fingers were precise, strong, but never rough.

"Shadow was the first person, first anything that I met when I came to this world," I said quietly, staring off into space.

"And he didn't try to eat you?" I could feel more than see Yaozu's smile as he gently teased me.

"It was touch and go back then."

I glanced down at the beast now curled at my feet.

"He was just a blur then. Yellow eyes in the back of a cave that I desperately needed. I was so broken back then that I probably wouldn't have survived if I hadn't found the cave. Only Shadow was there first."

Yaozu didn't respond. Just tightened a buckle.

"I thought he'd kill me," I continued. "But he didn't so much as move. Just sat there and stared. And when I closed my eyes, he guarded me throughout the night."

"And you let him."

"I wasn't in a place that I couldn't have done it myself. But after that first night, he never left my side."

Yaozu's hands paused at my waist.

"You think he understands?"

"Better than most men."

He said nothing.

I reached back and tugged the last clasp into place, then tested the fit. Perfect. Light. Lethal.

"Thank you," I said.

He nodded.

The wind shifted again. This time colder.

We both looked east, toward the pass, toward Baiguang.

"It starts tomorrow," he said.

"No," I murmured. "It's already started. We are just taking the battle to them tomorrow."

Shadow stood, stretching his long frame and shaking the frost from his fur.

Yaozu stepped beside me, drawing his cloak tight.

I didn't move. Just lifted my hand and whistled once—sharp and low.

Shadow took off into the dark without hesitation.

I turned to Yaozu. "Come on."

"Where to?"

"Armor or not," I said, stepping off the path, "I still have maps to burn and people to terrify."