Chapter 110 – The Bargain Breaks
The ridge curved like a blade around the hollow, its edge sheer on one side and treacherous with loose stone on the other. Kairo led the way, boots placing each step with a precision that came from years of moving where a single sound could end you. Elira followed as close as she dared, her breath coming in shallow bursts to keep it from fogging in front of her face.
Below, Feretti's men had begun their sweep. She could hear the occasional crunch of boots on frozen soil, the faint rasp of a coat brushing against brittle pine. They were working systematically—one man watching the slope while the other two tested the perimeter of the hollow.
Kairo stopped abruptly, crouching low. One hand rose slightly, the silent signal to freeze. Elira dropped into a crouch beside him, following his gaze downward.
A fourth man.
This one hadn't come from the hollow but from the east slope, his approach hidden from the others. He moved with a different confidence—less searching, more certain. And unlike the others, he wasn't carrying a rifle.
Elira's pulse spiked. "Who is he?" she whispered.
Kairo's eyes narrowed. "The one pulling their strings."
The man reached the edge of the hollow and gave a short whistle. The other three stopped moving instantly. He spoke—too low for the words to carry, but his tone left no question who was giving orders.
Then he turned, scanning the ridgeline.
Elira felt it before she saw it—his gaze lingering too long on the stretch of shadow where they crouched. Kairo's hand tightened on her forearm. "Move," he breathed.
They slipped backward from the ridge crest, staying low. But the scrape of a boot on loose shale betrayed them. The sound was small, almost swallowed by the wind—almost.
The sharp crack of a pistol cut through the night. A rock beside Elira's head shattered, spraying her with grit. She flattened instinctively, heart slamming against her ribs.
Kairo's arm hooked around her shoulders, dragging her behind the thicker cover of a boulder. "Down the west face," he said, already scanning for the safest drop.
"That's a cliff," she hissed.
"That's a distraction waiting to happen."
Another shot rang out, closer this time. The men were spreading. Kairo checked the drop once, twice, then swung himself over the edge. His boots found a narrow ledge a few feet below, and he reached back for her hand.
"Don't think," he said, voice calm despite the gunfire. "Just move."
She took his hand and dropped. His grip absorbed the jolt, pulling her in against the rock face. Together they edged sideways along the cliff until the stone widened into a rough slope of scree.
From here, the hollow was no longer in sight—but the shouts of pursuit were.
Kairo started down at a controlled slide, using the loose rock to carry them quickly but silently into the treeline below. Elira followed, every muscle taut, expecting a bullet to find her spine before they reached cover.
They didn't stop until the trees swallowed them completely. The sounds of the search faded, replaced by the softer hiss of wind through pine needles.
Kairo finally slowed, scanning the dark ahead. "They won't give up now. That fourth man—he's not here to capture. He's here to make sure I never leave these mountains."
Elira caught her breath. "Then what now?"
"We go where even they won't follow."
She stared at him. "And where's that?"
His mouth curved in that dangerous almost-smile. "Into the Bone Pass."
Her stomach dropped. "That place is suicide."
"Not for both of us," he said. "For them."
Somewhere far above, the echo of another whistle cut through the night—closer this time. The chase wasn't over.
It was just beginning.