The forest air thickened, damp with mist and tension. Every clash of steel echoed like thunder, shattering the quiet night. Julian's arms burned with each parry, but he refused to let his focus falter. Ashford's attacks were relentless, almost mechanical in their precision, but Julian fought with something Ashford could never understand—heart.
Evelyn stood frozen for a breath, the weight of the sword nearly buckling her knees. She had never held anything so heavy in her life. Her delicate hands, used to coaxing beauty from ivory keys, now trembled as they gripped cold steel. But she held on. For Julian.
Julian caught sight of her again in his periphery, her dark eyes wide with terror yet glowing with a quiet, unyielding courage. It gave him strength.
Ashford lunged, aiming for Julian's chest. Julian twisted at the last moment, their blades shrieking as they scraped. Sparks burst like fireflies, and Julian pushed back with all his weight, sending Ashford stumbling a step.
"Stay down, Reed," Ashford spat, his teeth bared. "You're not strong enough."
Julian's voice came low, steady. "You'll have to kill me to prove it."
For a heartbeat, Evelyn thought he might. Ashford swung again, and Julian barely deflected, the force jarring his arm. Pain flared up his shoulder, but he kept moving. Evelyn's stomach twisted; she wanted to cry out, to run forward, to shield him, but all she could do was clutch the sword tighter and pray.
Ashford's eyes flicked to her again, a cruel smile tugging at his lips. "She'll watch you bleed out, and then she'll be mine to do with as I please."
That was the mistake.
Rage—hot, blistering rage—flashed across Julian's face. His movements became sharper, quicker, as though her name alone had lit fire in his veins. He pressed forward, forcing Ashford back step by step, each strike echoing with fury.
Evelyn's breath hitched as the men circled closer to where she stood. She tried to lift the sword higher, her arms shaking under its weight. Ashford noticed and smirked, as though amused by her struggle.
Julian saw it too. "Evelyn," he said hoarsely, never taking his eyes off Ashford, "drop it. Stay back."
She shook her head fiercely, her voice breaking. "I won't. Not when he wants to take everything from us."
Their eyes met, only for a second, but it was enough. Julian saw her determination—fragile, trembling, but real. Evelyn wasn't running. She was choosing to stand, even if she had no strength to fight.
Ashford snarled and swung wide, aiming for Julian's neck. Julian ducked, slashing upward in a counter that nicked Ashford's arm. The soldier cursed, stumbling back with blood soaking through his sleeve.
It wasn't over. It was just the beginning.
The forest itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see which flame would burn brighter: Ashford's cruelty, or the fierce love binding Evelyn and Julian together.
Ashford's snarl cut through the night as he wiped the blood from his arm with the back of his hand. His eyes gleamed with something darker than anger—an obsession, a hunger for dominance. He lunged again, his blade flashing like silver lightning.
Julian met him, steel clashing, sparks flying. The sound was deafening in the silence of the forest. His arm throbbed from the relentless blows, but his resolve only grew harder. Evelyn's presence—fragile yet unshaken—anchored him. Every strike he threw was not for glory, not for pride, but for her.
"Is this what you call strength?" Ashford jeered, his blade grinding against Julian's in a locked clash. Their faces were only inches apart, breath hot, muscles straining. "You're bleeding, faltering. You'll fall soon enough."
Julian's jaw clenched. "Better to fall protecting her than live a coward who destroys."
With a sudden twist, Julian shoved Ashford's sword aside, pivoting with precision. His dagger slashed across Ashford's side, shallow but enough to make him stagger. Ashford's fury grew wild, uncontrolled.
Evelyn gasped, her knuckles white as she clung to the sword. She could see Julian tiring—the tightness in his movements, the sweat dripping down his temple. Fear coiled in her stomach. She wanted to rush forward, but her feet felt rooted, as though the forest itself held her still.
Ashford's gaze snapped to her again, cruel amusement flickering. He feinted toward Julian, then suddenly broke away, charging at Evelyn.
Her heart lurched into her throat. She barely had time to react before he was upon her, towering, his blade raised. Evelyn lifted the heavy sword in both hands, her arms trembling violently under the weight. She squeezed her eyes shut—
—but Julian was there.
He threw himself between them, catching Ashford's strike with his dagger. The force rattled his bones, but he held firm, pushing back with every ounce of strength left in him. Evelyn stumbled backward, nearly falling, her chest heaving.
"Stay away from her!" Julian roared, his voice cracking the night.
Their blades locked again, and this time Julian didn't retreat. He pushed harder, teeth gritted, muscles screaming, until Ashford faltered. With a sharp twist, Julian disarmed him—Ashford's sword clattered to the ground, swallowed by the grass.
For a moment, time froze. Ashford stood panting, unarmed, eyes blazing with venom. Julian's dagger hovered at his throat. Evelyn's breath came in shallow bursts, her sword hanging limply at her side.
"Do it," Ashford hissed, a twisted grin curling on his lips. "Kill me, Reed. Show her the soldier you truly are."
Julian's chest rose and fell, his hand trembling as he held the blade to Ashford's skin. His eyes burned, but not with bloodlust—with conflict. He could end it here. One strike, and Evelyn would never be threatened again.
But Evelyn's voice cut through the haze, soft, breaking, yet stronger than steel. "Julian… please."
He turned his head slightly, meeting her gaze. Tears shimmered in her eyes—not of fear, but of something deeper. "Don't let him make you like him."
Julian's hand wavered. The forest waited, silent. Ashford's smirk widened as if he could sense Julian's hesitation.
Then, with a sharp exhale, Julian stepped back, lowering the dagger. "No. You don't get to win."
Ashford's smirk faltered for the first time.
But in the next instant, a rustle of branches split the night. Shadows moved at the edge of the clearing—Ashford's reinforcements, armed and ready, emerging from the trees.
Evelyn's stomach dropped. Julian tightened his grip on the dagger. The fight wasn't over. It was about to get far worse.
The shadows poured into the clearing like wolves set loose. Five men, all in dark uniforms, emerged from between the trees, blades gleaming, boots crunching against the damp earth. Their presence turned the forest into a trap, the air heavy with the scent of iron and danger.
Evelyn's pulse quickened, her fingers trembling around the hilt of the sword she could hardly lift. Julian stepped instinctively in front of her, his body a shield, his dagger glinting in the pale light. His breathing was ragged, his muscles worn from the duel, yet his stance was unyielding.
Ashford's lips twisted into a cruel smile as he bent to retrieve his fallen blade. Blood stained his sleeve, but his pride seemed untouched. "You see, Reed," he drawled, his voice slick with satisfaction. "You may have bested me one-on-one. But I never play fair."
Julian's eyes narrowed. "Cowards rarely do."
Ashford ignored the jab, waving his hand toward the men who now formed a half-circle around Julian and Evelyn. "End this," he ordered coldly.
The first soldier lunged. Julian met him head-on, dagger flashing, the clash ringing through the trees. He twisted, disarming the man with a brutal kick, then slashed across his thigh. The soldier fell, clutching his leg. But another rushed in to replace him, and then another.
Julian fought like a man possessed, ducking and parrying, moving with sharp precision. Yet Evelyn could see the fatigue dragging at him. Every movement was a little slower, every blow harder to recover from.
Evelyn's heart hammered. She wanted to help, but fear rooted her in place. Her fingers ached from gripping the sword too tightly, her breath coming in panicked gasps. She thought of her father's words—Music is your weapon, Evelyn, not war. Yet standing here, watching Julian risk everything, she knew that wasn't enough.
When a soldier broke through Julian's guard and charged directly at her, instinct took over. Evelyn screamed, lifting her sword with all her strength. The blade met the man's arm in a clumsy, desperate arc. It wasn't deep, but it was enough. He yelped, dropping his weapon. Evelyn staggered back, horrified at what she'd done, yet some part of her burned with a strange new strength.
Julian heard her cry and glanced back for only a second—just long enough for Ashford to strike. His blade sliced across Julian's shoulder, and he stumbled, blood blooming across his uniform. Evelyn's breath caught, a sob tearing from her throat.
"Julian!"
He straightened, clutching his shoulder but refusing to fall. His eyes locked with hers—dark, steady, commanding. "Don't stop," he said through clenched teeth.
Evelyn's grip tightened on the sword. She was shaking, terrified, but his words gave her something she hadn't felt until now—permission to fight. Not just to survive, but to stand beside him.
Another soldier came at her. This time she didn't close her eyes. She swung, untrained but determined, forcing him back just long enough for Julian to strike him down. Their movements began to sync—his sharp precision paired with her raw defiance, two hearts fighting as one.
Ashford's fury grew with every moment they resisted. His jaw clenched, his voice rising in a snarl. "Finish them!"
The soldiers closed in tighter. Julian's strength waned, Evelyn's arms ached, but neither yielded. The clearing rang with the rhythm of steel, of ragged breaths and pounding hearts.
And then—another sound.
Hooves.
The thunder of hooves against the forest path. Torches flared in the distance, growing brighter, closer. Ashford's soldiers faltered, their attention torn.
Evelyn blinked through sweat and fear, her chest heaving. "What… what is that?"
Julian's bleeding shoulder trembled as he steadied himself, a ghost of relief flickering in his gaze. "Reinforcements," he rasped.
Ashford's smile finally faltered.
The trees burst open, and riders stormed into the clearing—uniforms of the King's Guard catching the moonlight, blades raised high.
The tide of the fight shifted in an instant.
The forest erupted into chaos as the King's Guard stormed the clearing. Hooves churned the soil, blades gleamed under torchlight, and shouts split the night like thunder. The soldiers who had surrounded Evelyn and Julian faltered, their formation breaking in panic.
Ashford cursed, his face contorting as the tide shifted against him. He barked orders, but his men were already scattering, colliding with the mounted guards. Steel clashed in a cacophony that rattled through Evelyn's bones.
Julian swayed where he stood, his dagger still raised though his strength was all but spent. Blood streamed down his shoulder, soaking into the dark fabric of his uniform. Evelyn dropped her sword and rushed to him, her hands trembling as she reached for him.
"Julian," she whispered, her voice breaking, "you're hurt—"
He caught her hand with surprising steadiness, his grip strong despite the tremor in his body. His eyes, dark and burning with exhaustion, met hers. "I'm fine… stay close to me."
But he wasn't fine. She could feel the warmth of his blood seeping through her fingers as she pressed against the wound, desperate to stop the flow. The fight roared around them, but for Evelyn, the world had narrowed to the man swaying before her, refusing to yield even as his body gave way.
Ashford, seeing the battle turning, bared his teeth like a cornered wolf. He lunged at Julian once more, desperation giving him speed. Evelyn cried out, instinctively stepping between them, her arms spread wide.
"Evelyn!" Julian roared, his voice ragged with both fear and fury.
But before Ashford's blade could strike, a mounted guard swept in, knocking him back with the flat of his sword. Ashford stumbled, barely dodging another blow, and then fled into the shadows, vanishing into the chaos of the forest.
"Coward," Julian spat through gritted teeth, his knees finally buckling.
Evelyn caught him as best she could, though his weight nearly dragged her down with him. She fell to her knees, cradling him, her chest heaving as tears streamed freely now. His head rested against her shoulder, his breath hot and uneven against her skin.
"Julian… hold on," she whispered fiercely, clutching him as though sheer will could keep him tethered. "You can't leave me. Not like this."
He tried to smile, though his lips trembled. "I told you… I'd protect you." His voice was faint, a thread unraveling.
"And you did," she said, pressing her forehead against his, her tears mixing with the sweat on his brow. "But now it's my turn."
Around them, the clash of battle dulled as the King's Guard overwhelmed the remaining men. The clearing filled with the groans of the defeated, the shouts of victory, and the flicker of torchlight. Yet Evelyn heard none of it. All she felt was Julian's weakening pulse beneath her hands, the weight of him leaning heavier against her.
A guard dismounted and rushed to her side. "He needs a surgeon immediately," the man barked, already signaling for aid. "Help me lift him."
Evelyn's grip tightened. She looked down at Julian, his eyes fluttering, his strength slipping like sand through her fingers. Fear clawed at her chest, but beneath it burned something fierce—a vow.
She wouldn't let him go. Not now. Not ever.
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