The horse's hooves pounded against the muddy earth like a war drum, each stride carrying them farther from the torchlit chaos of the castle. Rain lashed Seraphine's face, mingling with the salt of unshed tears. She clung to Kaelan's forearm, her fingers numb against the damp leather of his vambrace.
"Where are you taking me?" she shouted over the storm.
Kaelan's only answer was a low chuckle, the vibration of it humming through her back where they pressed together. The forest swallowed them whole, branches clawing at her skirts like skeletal hands.
Then—a snap of twigs.
Seraphine barely had time to tense before an arrow whistled past her ear, embedding itself in a tree with a dull *thunk*.
"Ambush!" Kaelan snarled, wrenching the reins hard to the left. The horse reared, nearly unseating them as a second arrow grazed Seraphine's shoulder.
Shadows moved between the trees.
Kaelan's dagger was in his hand before she could blink. "Stay close," he ordered, dismounting in one fluid motion and dragging her down with him.
She didn't have time to argue.
Three figures emerged from the gloom, their faces obscured by black cloth. Not royal guards—their movements were too precise, their blades too fine. *Assassins.*
The first lunged.
Kaelan met him mid-stride, steel flashing in the downpour. Blood sprayed across the ferns as he gutted the man without hesitation. The second came at Seraphine, a curved dagger aimed for her throat.
Instinct took over.
She sidestepped, yanking a hairpin free and driving it into the assassin's wrist. He howled, his weapon falling into the mud. She didn't give him time to recover—her knee found his groin, and as he doubled over, she snatched his fallen blade and slit his throat.
Warmth splattered her hands.
The third assassin froze, his eyes darting between her and Kaelan. Then, with a curse, he melted back into the forest.
Silence, save for the rain and their ragged breaths.
Kaelan wiped his dagger clean on his thigh, eyeing her with something like approval. "You're full of surprises, Lady Vaelis."
Seraphine tossed the bloody knife into the mud. "Who were they?"
"Not mine," he said, as if that answered anything.
She glared.
Kaelan sighed, sheathing his weapon. "Tristan's allies, most likely. Or your sister's." His gaze flicked to the arrow still quivering in the tree. "Or someone else entirely."
A branch cracked in the distance.
Kaelan's hand closed around her wrist. "We need to move."
She yanked free. "Not until you tell me where we're going."
Moonlight cut through the clouds, illuminating the sharp planes of his face. "Somewhere you'll be safe."
"Safe?" She barked a laugh. "You expect me to believe that?"
"No." He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I expect you to trust that I want Tristan dead as much as you do."
The truth of it hung between them, heavy as the storm.
Another rustle in the underbrush.
Kaelan didn't wait for her answer. He hauled her onto the horse again, and this time, she didn't fight him.
As they rode towards the night, Seraphine couldn't shake the feeling that the real danger wasnt behind them but ahead.