~Serah POV~
Branches tore at my gown as Tristan dragged me through the woods and behind us, hooves pounded and men shouted as I heard my father's voice cut through it all like a whip ... steady, cruel, detached.
"Bring her back alive! The child is proof, don't fail Lord Veylen."
My chest tightened, he didn't even say my name.
"Keep moving," Tristan's breath was rough, his grip like iron on my wrist "Don't look back!"
"You don't understand," I stumbled over a root, nearly falling "That was my father..."
"I know who it was and I don't care! He made his choice, now make yours and live."
"I can't outrun them," I gasped. My thigh throbbed where the blade had cut me and blood was soaking through the makeshift bandage. "They'll catch us, Tristan..."
He spun on me, eyes blazing. "Do you want me to carry you?"
"Uhn...no—"
"Then run! Because I swear Serah if you stop now you're handing Jethro exactly what he wants"
His words hit harder than the pain and I forced my legs to move.
