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Chapter 2 - Chapter 2 - Reluctant Alliance

The night air outside the burning palace was thick with smoke and chaos. Alenya stumbled after the scarred warrior, clutching the skirts of her torn gown so she could run. Her heart raced as fast as her feet, every step echoing with fear.

Behind them, shouts rose — the assassins hadn't given up.

The warrior's stride was long and merciless, forcing her to keep pace or be left behind. His blade dripped crimson, his jaw hard, his eyes flicking from shadow to shadow with the instincts of a man who trusted no one.

At last, they burst through a broken gate, into the forest that stretched beyond the palace walls. The night swallowed them, cold and silent except for their ragged breaths.

"Stop," Alenya gasped, pressing her hand against a tree to steady herself. Her lungs burned. Her slippers were torn. "I… I can't—"

He turned on her, eyes flashing with irritation. "Then you'll die here."

The words cut sharper than his blade.

She straightened, forcing strength into her trembling voice. "You saved me back there. You didn't have to. Why save me only to abandon me now?"

For a moment, his gaze lingered on her — the soot smudged across her cheek, the firelight still glowing in her eyes, the defiance trembling on her lips. Something unreadable flickered in his expression, then vanished beneath the weight of his scowl.

"I don't save people," he muttered. "I survive. That's all."

Her hand balled into a fist. "Then survive with me."

Silence stretched, heavy as the smoke still clinging to their skin. His eyes swept over her again, slower this time, as if measuring her worth. She stood straighter, refusing to shrink beneath his stare.

Finally, he exhaled through his teeth. "Damn it."

Before she could speak, he seized her wrist — not gently, but not cruelly either — and tugged her forward. His grip was rough, calloused, burning against her delicate skin.

"You stay close," he said, voice low and sharp. "If you fall behind, if you cry out, if you slow me down, you're dead weight. Understand?"

Her pulse thundered beneath his hold, but she nodded. "I understand."

"Good."

He released her, but his presence lingered, heavy, dangerous, magnetic.

As they walked deeper into the woods, the night grew colder, the forest thicker. Branches snagged at her dress. Her body ached with exhaustion, yet she forced herself on, stealing glances at the man who now walked beside her.

Scarred, silent, untamed.

There was nothing noble about him, nothing knightly in his manner. And yet, when danger had closed in, it was his blade — and his fire — that had saved her.

"What do I call you?" she asked at last, her voice soft but steady.

He didn't look at her. "You don't."

Her brows furrowed. "You have a name, don't you?"

A pause. Then, reluctantly: "Kael."

"Kael," she repeated, tasting the name. "I'm Alenya."

"I know."

The way he said it sent a shiver down her spine.

They walked in silence after that, the forest alive with distant howls and rustling shadows. At last, when they reached a clearing, Kael stopped.

"We stay here tonight." He threw his cloak to the ground, striking flint until a small fire sparked to life.

Alenya sank onto the cloak, the warmth of the flames thawing her trembling limbs. Her gown clung to her skin, damp with sweat, torn from the chase. She pulled the fabric tighter around herself, suddenly aware of his eyes flickering briefly toward her before he looked away, jaw tightening.

"You should rest," he said.

"And you?"

"I don't rest."

The firelight danced across his scar, deepening the shadows on his face. He looked like a man forged of iron and ash, dangerous yet compelling, the kind of man her father's court would have called a monster.

But when his gaze finally met hers across the fire, the intensity there stole her breath.

She should have looked away. She didn't.

Her heart pounded in her chest as silence stretched between them, a silence heavy with unspoken questions, with fear, with something hotter, darker, that neither dared name.

For the first time since the night began, Alenya realized her greatest danger might not be the assassins who hunted her.

It might be the man sitting across the fire.

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