The tunnel didn't just collapse; it surrendered.
The raw, desperate fury of Ravenna's chaotic burst had turned the ancient supports into toothpicks. Dust, rock, and splintered wood rained down in a choking curtain. The screams of the Lycan guards were cut short, swallowed by the roar of settling earth.
"Move! Now!" Emin's Alpha voice tore through the noise like a jagged blade.
He didn't wait for an answer. He snatched Ravenna off the ground, pinning her spent form against his shoulder. His eyes, however, weren't on the exit. They were on Asher.
The Rogue was a statue. Immobilized. Frozen right where Nokon's betrayal had hit him. His eyes were wide, fixed on the void where his past had just been incinerated. The shame radiating from him wasn't an emotion; it was a thick, suffocating mist.
"Alpha! The entrance is sealing!" Damaris shouted, ducking a falling slab of granite. "We have to go!"
Emin didn't hesitate. He tossed Ravenna to Alda, who was already perched on a crumbling ledge. "Keep her safe! Warlock, shield!"
Emin lunged back into the kill zone. Ignoring the razor-sharp debris slicing his skin, the Alpha scooped the frozen Rogue into his arms. It was a surreal, ugly sight: the symbol of rigid order hauling the broken symbol of chaos out of the grave.
"Hold!" Damaris screamed. His hands wove a frantic, jagged pattern in the air. A translucent, flickering barrier snapped into place over their heads, groaning as it deflected a massive chunk of the ceiling.
They scrambled up the maintenance shaft in a blind, desperate retreat. Ravenna leaned on Alda. Emin hauled the dead weight of a man who had stopped wanting to exist. Damaris bled energy into his failing shield, his breath coming in ragged, bloody gasps.
They burst onto the surface and collapsed onto the dirt just as the tunnel imploded behind them with a final, bone-shaking thud.
The Aftermath
Alda didn't waste time. She led them to a deep, narrow fissure—a natural alcove hidden by centuries of rubble. It was cramped, cold, and defensible.
The physical bill finally came due.
Damaris: Sank against the stone, skin ghost-white. Sweat streaked the grime on his face. His breathing was a rapid, shallow rattle—the price of a Warlock who had emptied his well.
Emin: Shaking with adrenaline, he lowered Asher to the dirt. He didn't stop to breathe. He rushed to Ravenna, his hands gripping her shoulders with a terrifying intensity.
Asher: Curled on his side. Knees to chest. Hands clutching his head. He was physically there, but the Mate Bond told a different story.
"Are you harmed?" Emin demanded. His voice was thick with unspent terror.
"Exhausted," Ravenna managed. Her lungs felt like they were filled with glass. "But stable. Nokon's spell missed. But Asher... I think he's gone."
She looked at the Rogue. The constant wariness and sharp-edged defiance that usually defined him were gone. In their place was a vast, horrifying blankness.
He's not just hiding, she realized. He's locked himself in a room with no doors. He thinks he deserves the dark.
"The despair is absolute," Damaris rasped, his eyes closed. "Nokon didn't use a physical spell. He used a calculated strike against the Rogue's identity. He destroyed Asher's belief in his own judgment."
Alda knelt by Asher, her face grim. "He was always proud that he trusted no one. Nokon was his only exception. For a rogue, finding out your last two years were just a long-con spy op... that's a special kind of hell."
The Reach
Emin moved slowly. He knelt beside the paralyzed Rogue and placed a large, calloused hand on Asher's back. It wasn't a threat. It wasn't dominance. It was a grounding wire.
"Rogue," Emin commanded. His voice was firm. "Look at me. You are alive. You are with your Mates. We need you."
Asher didn't blink. He stayed locked in his devastating silence.
The problem was becoming systemic. Asher's silence was leaking into the bond, contaminating it. His catastrophic grief was a psychic toxin, making Ravenna's mind feel fuzzy, dull, and heavy.
His silence is louder than any scream. It's drowning us all.
"He can't hear you, Emin," Ravenna said, sliding down to sit beside them. "His shame is too loud. We have to repair the leak, or we're all going to drown in it."
Damaris opened one eye. His gaze was clinical. "The Alpha can't do it. Emin provides discipline and protection, but he doesn't do intimacy. Ravenna, you are the common vessel. Only you can go in there."
Emin looked at the Warlock, then at Ravenna. He hated the idea. He hated the vulnerability of it. But he saw the math.
She is the heart, he realized. She has to mend what strength can't touch.
He stood up, moving to the entrance of the alcove to act as a sentinel. He gave them the only thing he could: space.
Alda began grinding a bundle of dried herbs. "I can give him a suppressant for the tremors, but only the bond can fix the head."
Ravenna placed her hand on Asher's back, right where Emin's had been. His skin was ice-cold. Clammy.
Through the bond, she felt the crushing weight. He hadn't just been betrayed; he'd been a weapon used against the people he was supposed to protect.
He thinks he's poison. He thinks he's the reason we're all going to die.
Ravenna knew that brand of guilt. The weight of being a weapon you never asked to be. This wasn't a fight against Nyzor anymore. It was a rescue mission for a man who had already given up.