The storm rolled in without warning.
Dark clouds swallowed the sky, thunder rumbling across the Wildlands like the growl of some ancient beast. Kaela urged her horse faster, glancing back at Arion. He was slumped forward in the saddle, his cloak soaked with blood and rain.
"Arion," she called. "Stay awake."
He lifted his head, eyes unfocused. "I'm… trying."
Lightning split the sky. The wind howled. The path ahead blurred into a maze of jagged rocks and twisted trees. Kaela's heart hammered.
He was getting worse.
Too fast.
She spotted a narrow opening between two boulders — a shallow cave, barely visible beneath the overgrowth.
"There," she said. "We'll shelter inside."
Arion didn't respond.
Kaela dismounted and rushed to his side. His skin was pale, his breathing shallow. When she touched his arm, he flinched — not from pain, but from the cold.
"Arion," she whispered, "look at me."
His eyes fluttered open. "Kaela…"
She swallowed hard. "Don't talk. Just hold on."
She slid an arm around his waist, guiding him down from the horse. He stumbled, nearly collapsing. Kaela caught him, her body straining under his weight.
"You're burning up," she murmured.
He gave a weak laugh. "That's… not ideal."
"Stop joking," she snapped, voice cracking. "You're losing too much blood."
She dragged him into the cave, lowering him gently onto the dryest patch of ground she could find. Rain hammered the rocks outside, the storm sealing them in.
Kaela knelt beside him, ripping open the blood‑soaked fabric of his cloak. The wound was worse than she feared — deep, jagged, already inflamed.
Her stomach twisted.
"You should have told me it was this bad."
Arion's voice was barely a whisper. "You had enough to worry about."
Kaela glared at him. "You are what I'm worrying about."
His eyes softened, but she didn't let him speak.
"Stay still," she said, pulling out her supplies. "This will hurt."
"It already does."
"Good," she muttered. "Means you're still alive."
She cleaned the wound with water from her flask. Arion hissed, muscles tensing. Kaela's hands shook, but she forced them steady.
"Breathe," she said.
"You first," he murmured.
She shot him a look. "Arion."
He fell silent.
Kaela worked quickly, binding the wound with strips of cloth, pressing firmly to stop the bleeding. Her fingers brushed his skin — hot, feverish. Too hot.
"Damn it," she whispered. "The infection's spreading."
Arion's eyes drifted closed.
"Don't," she said sharply. "Stay awake."
He opened them again, barely. "You're… angry."
"Of course I'm angry," she snapped. "You nearly died."
He smiled faintly. "You saved me. Again."
Kaela froze.
The storm raged outside, but inside the cave, everything felt unbearably still.
She looked at him — really looked.
His face was pale, his hair plastered to his forehead, his breathing uneven. But his eyes… his eyes were steady, even now. Steady on her.
"You shouldn't care," he whispered. "Not after everything."
Kaela swallowed hard. "I don't care."
He raised an eyebrow — or tried to. "You're a terrible liar."
She looked away, heat rising in her chest. "You're delirious."
"Maybe," he murmured. "But I know what I see."
Kaela's breath caught.
She couldn't do this. Not now. Not when everything was falling apart. Not when she didn't know what was true, what was real, what was hers.
She forced herself to focus. "You need rest."
Arion's eyes drifted shut again. "Stay… close."
Kaela hesitated.
Then she moved to his side, sitting with her back against the cave wall. She pulled him gently toward her, letting his head rest against her shoulder.
He exhaled — a soft, relieved sound.
Kaela's heart twisted painfully.
"Don't die," she whispered. "Not before you show me the truth."
Arion's voice was barely audible. "I won't. Not while you're here."
Kaela closed her eyes.
Outside, the storm raged.
Inside, she held the man she had sworn to kill — the man who might be the only one who could save her from the lies she'd lived her whole life.
And for the first time, she wasn't sure which terrified her more.