The air inside the cave was thick with the scent of damp earth and ancient stone. Outside, the sounds of battle—the clashing of steel and the shouts of dying men—faded into a muffled roar. Kaia led the way, her fingers brushing against the cold, jagged walls of the tunnel her father had shown her years ago.
"Hold on," Alaric breathed, his voice echoing in the darkness. He stumbled slightly, his hand catching the rough wall for support.
Kaia turned back, her heart skipping a beat. In the faint light of the phosphorescent moss growing on the rocks, she saw blood—dark and thick—seeping through Alaric's tunic. "You're hurt," she whispered, rushing to his side.
"It's just a graze," Alaric grunted, though his face was pale and beaded with sweat. "A Council assassin got lucky. We need to keep moving before Thorne's men find the entrance."
"Sit down," Kaia commanded, her voice firm. She ignored his protest and guided him to a flat stone. She tore a strip of fabric from her cloak, her hands trembling as she began to bind the wound in his shoulder.
As she worked, the silence between them grew heavy. For the first time, there were no guards, no rebels, and no crowns between them. Just two souls caught in a storm of their own making.
"Why did you come, Alaric?" Kaia asked, her voice barely a whisper. "You knew Thorne was watching you. You knew the Northern Pass was a gamble."
Alaric looked up at her, his eyes searching hers in the dim light. "I came because a kingdom without you isn't a kingdom I want to rule, Kaia. I spent years being the King everyone expected—the cold, the distant, the powerful. But when I met you... even when I knew you were my enemy... I felt alive for the first time."
Kaia's hands froze on the bandage. She looked at the man she had been sent to kill—the man who was now bleeding because he chose her life over his throne.
"My father always said the lions of Aethelgard were heartless," she said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But you... you're the bravest man I've ever known."
Suddenly, a low rumble shook the cave. Dust and small pebbles fell from the ceiling.
"The assassins," Alaric hissed, reaching for his sword. "They're trying to collapse the entrance. They want to bury us alive."
Kaia stood up, her jaw set in a line of determination. "There's an exit on the other side of the ridge. It leads to the Old Valerius Keep. If we can reach it, my people will be there. Not just Silas's warriors, but the farmers and the elders. They won't let Thorne's butchers touch us."
Alaric stood up, leaning heavily on Kaia's shoulder. "Then lead the way, little wolf. Let's see if a King and a Rebel can truly change the world."
As they moved deeper into the mountain, Kaia realized the war wasn't over. But as she felt Alaric's hand in hers, she knew that whatever happened next, they would face it together—even if the whole world was against them