CASSIAN POV
The girl is shaking against my chest.
I can feel every tremor through my armor as we ride hard through the forest. Her hands grip the saddle so tight her knuckles are white. She hasn't said a word since we left the clearing.
Smart. Words waste breath, and we need every bit of strength to outrun the King's hunters.
Behind us, torches flicker through the trees. They're gaining.
"There's too many," Seren calls from my left. "We can't outrun them all night."
She's right. The horses are already breathing hard. We have maybe an hour before they collapse.
I need a new plan.
"The river," I say. "Head for the Blackwater."
"That's suicide!" one of my men shouts. "The current will kill us!"
"The King's men will definitely kill us. I'll take my chances with water."
We veer south, crashing through underbrush. Branches whip past. The girl—Elara—ducks her head against my shoulder.
"What's happening?" Her voice is small, terrified.
"Change of plans. Can you swim?"
"I've never seen water deeper than a washing bucket."
Of course she hasn't. Palace servants don't get swimming lessons.
"Then hold your breath when I tell you, and don't let go of me."
The roar of the river reaches us before we see it. The Blackwater runs fast and mean, swollen from mountain snow. In daylight, crossing it is dangerous. At night, it's deadly.
Perfect.
We burst from the trees onto the rocky bank. The water churns black and angry, full of sharp rocks and hidden currents.
My men pull up their horses, staring at the river like I've lost my mind.
"Commander," Seren says carefully, "even if we survive the crossing, they'll just follow our trail on the other side."
"Not if there's no trail to follow." I point upstream. "We ride in the water. The current takes our tracks. They'll search the banks for hours."
"Or our bodies," someone mutters.
The torches are getting closer. I can hear dogs barking now. The King sent trackers.
We're out of time.
"Anyone who wants to turn back, go now. I won't think less of you." I wait. No one moves. "Then let's give the King a reason to remember this day."
I guide my horse into the shallows. The current immediately pulls at us, hungry and strong. Elara's breathing quickens.
"Trust me," I say quietly.
"I don't even know you."
"Then trust that I didn't come this far to let you drown."
I urge the horse deeper. Water rises to our knees, then waist. The horse fights to keep footing on the slippery rocks.
"Now!" I shout to the others. "Stay close!"
We plunge into the Blackwater.
Cold hits like a fist. The current rips at us, trying to tear Elara from my arms. She gasps, choking on spray.
"Hold on!" I roar over the water's rage.
My horse swims hard, powerful legs churning. The river wants to smash us into the rocks that jut up like teeth. I guide us around them, using every bit of skill I learned in ten years of war.
Beside me, Seren's horse stumbles. She goes under.
"Seren!"
She surfaces, coughing, still gripping the reins. Her horse finds its footing and lunges forward.
We fight the river for what feels like hours. My arms burn from holding Elara. Her fingers dig into my armor, the only thing keeping her from being swept away.
Finally, the current weakens. I see the far bank.
"Almost there," I gasp.
The horse's hooves hit solid ground. We stagger onto the bank, water streaming off us. One by one, my soldiers emerge. We're all here. Alive.
I slide off the horse and pull Elara down. She collapses onto the muddy ground, shaking violently.
"I thought we were dead," she whispers.
"Not today." I wring water from my cloak. "Mount up. We rest when we reach the Keep."
"I can't. I can't get back on that horse."
I kneel beside her. Her lips are blue from cold. The brown contacts she wears are crooked—I can see a flash of violet underneath.
Beautiful. Dangerous. Exactly what I've been searching for.
"Listen to me," I say firmly. "The King wants you dead or captured. Right now, his men are on the other side of this river, furious and wet and wanting blood. We have maybe an hour's head start before they find a bridge. So you have two choices: get on the horse, or I throw you over my shoulder like a sack of grain. Either way, you're coming with me."
Fire flashes in her eyes. Good. Anger will keep her warm.
"I hate you," she says.
"You can hate me all you want. After we survive."
I haul her to her feet and back onto the horse. This time she doesn't fight.
We ride through the night. The forest gives way to rolling hills, then rocky highlands. The air gets colder. Frost sparkles on the ground.
Elara falls asleep against me somewhere around midnight, exhausted beyond fear. Her head rests on my shoulder, her breathing slow and steady.
I should wake her. Keep her alert in case of attack.
But I don't.
Something about her sleeping face makes her look younger. Innocent. Not at all like the weapon I need her to become.
Guilt twists in my gut. I'm using her. I know it. She knows it. The moment she touched me and that suppression band glowed, confirming everything I suspected, I sealed her fate.
But I'm also saving her life.
The King would have killed her the moment he understood what she was. At least with me, she has a chance to learn, to fight, to choose her own destiny.
Even if that destiny is war.
Dawn breaks as Blackthorn Keep appears on the horizon. Home. Safety. A place to rest and plan.
But as we approach the gates, something's wrong.
The flags are at half-mast.
My blood runs cold.
"What happened?" I demand as the gates open.
My captain of the guard runs forward, his face grim. "Commander, thank the gods you're back. We have a problem."
"What kind of problem?"
"An ambassador arrived from the palace last night. He's waiting in your hall with a message from King Aldric." The captain's voice drops. "Sir, the King has declared you a traitor. He's given you three days to return his property—" he glances at Elara, "—or he'll march his entire army north and burn the Keep to the ground."
The world narrows to a single point.
Three days.
Not enough time to prepare. Not enough time to gather allies. The King is forcing my hand, making me choose between war and surrender.
He knows I'll choose war. He's counting on it.
This was always a trap.
Elara stirs, waking. "What's wrong?"
I look down at her—this girl who doesn't know what she is, who has no idea the power sleeping in her veins. The power I need to win this war.
"Nothing's wrong," I lie. "We're home."
But as I carry her through the Keep's gates, I can feel the weight of destiny pressing down.
Three days until the King's army arrives.
Three days to unlock her magic, train her to fight, and convince her to help me.
Three days until everything burns.
And the worst part? The band on her wrist still glows fain
tly, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Like it's warning me.
Like it knows something I don't.