Elara's POV
RUN!
Kael yanks me forward, and we sprint into the desert.
Sand grabs at my bare feet with every step. My lungs burn. My legs scream. But behind us, hoofbeats thunder across the sand—getting closer.
Faster! Kael shouts, still gripping my hand.
I try. Gods, I try. But seven days locked in a room with barely any food has left me weak. My vision blurs. My legs wobble.
I stumble.
Kael catches me before I hit the sand, hauling me back up. Come on, Elara. Stay with me.
I can't— I gasp, chest heaving. Too weak
He looks back at the riders—close enough now that I can see Commander Theron's silver armor gleaming under the stars. Maybe two hundred yards away. Closing fast.
Kael's jaw clenches. Then he does something that shocks me.
He sweeps me up into his arms like I weigh nothing.
What are you
Saving your life, he grits out, and runs.
I should protest. Should insist I can walk. But I can barely breathe, let alone run, so I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on.
He's strong. Stronger than I expected. His arms don't shake even as he sprints across the sand, carrying me, putting distance between us and the guards.
But horses are faster than people.
The hoofbeats grow louder.
THERE! Theron's voice cuts through the night. I SEE THEM!
Kael changes direction, heading toward dark shapes rising from the desert—canyon ruins. Old stone structures half-buried in sand, crumbling and forgotten.
The Outcast Barrens. Where criminals and heretics are exiled to die.
We're running toward certain death to escape probable death.
Kael plunges between two canyon walls, finally setting me down in the shadows. We're both gasping for air, pressed against cold stone, hidden from view.
For now.
The hoofbeats slow. Stop. Voices echo through the canyon.
Split up! Search every canyon! They can't have gone far!
Commander, are you certain they came this way?
I saw them with my own eyes, soldier. The heretic executioner and the escaped Bride. Find them, or answer to the High Priest.
My heart pounds so hard I'm sure they'll hear it. Kael's hand finds mine in the darkness, squeezing tight.
We wait. Barely breathing.
Footsteps crunch across sand. Getting closer.
Kael pulls me deeper into the shadows, into a narrow crack between rocks. We squeeze through—it's so tight my shoulders scrape stone—until we emerge in a tiny cave, barely big enough for both of us.
We sink to the ground, backs against stone, pressed together in the cramped space. His body is warm against mine. Solid. Real.
For a moment, we just breathe.
Why? I whisper finally, my voice shaking. Why save me?
Kael doesn't answer right away. His hand is still holding mine, and I feel his fingers trembling.
You could have killed me, I continue, turning to look at him in the darkness. Completed your one hundred sacrifices. Broken your curse. Been free. Why throw it all away for me?
His breath catches. When he speaks, his voice cracks with emotion.
Because you sang.
I blink. What?
Your mother's lullaby. You were chained to an altar, waiting to die, and you sang to comfort yourself. His grip on my hand tightens. And for the first time in twelve years, I remembered.
Remembered what?
That every woman I killed was someone's daughter. His voice breaks completely. Someone's sister. Someone who had a mother who sang to them. Someone who deserved to live.
Tears burn my eyes. Kael
I forgot that, he continues, and now he's crying too. For twelve years, I told myself they weren't real. That if I didn't think about them as people, it wouldn't hurt so much. I turned them into numbers. Into necessary sacrifices. Into, into nothing.
He pulls his hand from mine, covering his face.
But you sang. And I heard your voice, and I saw you—really saw you—and I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill you and pretend you didn't matter.
I don't know what to say. This man murdered ninety-nine women. He should be a monster.
But all I see is someone broken. Someone forced into impossible choices. Someone who finally chose mercy.
You could die for this, I whisper. For saving me.
I've been dying for twelve years. He looks at me, face wet with tears. Maybe saving you is the first real thing I've done with my life.
Something shifts in my chest. Something warm and terrifying and impossible.
I reach out, touching his face. He freezes.
Thank you, I whisper. For choosing me. For remembering I'm human.
He closes his eyes, leaning into my touch like a man starving for kindness.
Then—voices outside. Close. Too close.
Commander! There's a cave entrance here!
We both freeze.
Footsteps approach. Boots crunching on sand and stone.
Kael's hand goes to the blade at his belt—the same one he was supposed to kill me with. His body shifts, putting himself between me and the cave entrance.
Protecting me.
My executioner is protecting me.
Search it, Theron's voice commands from just outside.
A shadow falls across the cave entrance. Someone's standing right there.
Kael's grip on his blade tightens.
I hold my breath.
The shadow moves
and Theron himself steps into view, silhouetted against starlight.
Ten feet away.
His hand rests on his sword hilt. His eyes scan the darkness.
Looking straight at our hiding spot.
Search every crack, he orders coldly. They're here somewhere. I can feel it.