Thorne kept me behind him, his stance protective, unwavering. A lump formed in my throat as my gaze locked onto Owain, standing in the center of the hallway—untouched by the destruction around him. The dim lighting cast sharp shadows across his face, his expression unreadable. Behind him, several guards stood at the ready, weapons drawn, their eyes locked on us like predators waiting for the signal to strike.
“You’re making quite the mess, Thorne,” Owain said, his voice disturbingly calm, laced with amusement. “Though I must admit, I expected nothing less from you.”
Thorne didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. His sharp gaze swept over the crumbling fortress, the distant echoes of destruction reminding us that time was slipping through our fingers.
Owain’s eyes flickered to me. A slow, knowing smirk curled his lips.
“And you, dear girl… still breathing, I see. Impressive, considering how much of your blood was taken. And yet, you wasted it so recklessly.”
A surge of anger burned through my exhaustion. “You don’t deserve any of it!” I spat.
Owain merely chuckled, shaking his head. “Leaving?” He echoed, amusement dancing in his eyes. “No, no. You’re exactly where you need to be. And since you came all this way, why don’t we settle this properly?”
Slowly, deliberately, he drew his weapon. A blade, sleek and polished, untouched by the battle raging beyond these walls. The way he held it, effortless yet precise, sent a chill down my spine.
Thorne exhaled, shifting his stance. He knew. There was no reasoning with Owain. No room for negotiation. This was always going to end in blood.
I gripped Thorne’s arm, my fingers tightening around the fabric of his sleeve. I knew what he was going to do. And I knew, deep down, he wasn’t fully prepared for this fight. Not after everything. Not after the battles he had already fought.
But I hope what I've prayed was wrong.
The fortress trembled violently as another explosion tore through the distance. Smoke and dust curled through the corridor, swallowing the light, casting everything in an eerie haze.
Owain smirked. “Let’s see if you’re still as sharp as you used to be.”
Then, without hesitation—he lunged.
Thorne lunged at Owain, their blades clashing in a vicious exchange. Every strike, every block, sent sparks flying, the sound of steel ringing through the crumbling fortress. Thorne was skilled, but Owain fought with eerie precision, barely breaking a sweat.
A sick feeling settled in my stomach. Thorne wasn’t going to last long—not like this.
I scanned my surroundings, searching for something, anything I could use. I wasn’t a warrior. I didn’t have the strength to face Owain head-on, but that wasn’t the only way to win a fight.
Then I saw it—the cracked corridor behind Owain. Previous explosions had weakened that section of the fortress, the walls barely holding together. If I could lure him there, I could—
“Zaira, move!”
I barely had time to react before Owain broke away from Thorne and charged at me, his predatory smirk sending ice through my veins. I threw myself to the side, rolling across the cold stone floor just as his blade slashed down where I’d been. Scrambling to my feet, I grabbed a steel shield from one of the decorative suits of armor lining the hallway. It was heavy, but it was something.
Owain sneered, licking his lips. "I will not let you go until I take what I want, dear girl. Give up."
"Never!" I hissed, bracing myself.
He struck again, his blade crashing against my shield with bone-rattling force. I gritted my teeth, my arms shaking as he pressed down, his weight suffocating.
Then, just as I was about to buckle, Thorne struck from the side, forcing Owain to release me and defend himself. I rolled away, gasping for breath, as their swords clashed again—each grunt and growl more desperate, more brutal.
As I was about to run away I heard Thorne gasps, groaning as a small thud I heard, I looked back seeing Thorne stopping the blood from his abdomen. 
“Thorne!” I yelled wanting to cry, I heard Owain’s monstrous laugh as he was about to strike towards her. Without a slight thought, without even thinking. I threw the nearest medium sized rock. He groaned as it caused a bleed in his forehead. 
“Leave him alone, it's me what you want!” I hissed. 
He pushed Thorne aside as he groaned looking at me. 
“Zaira ran,” his voice was weak. Yet he wanted to fight once more. 
“You want my blood, let's finish this once and for all!” I looked at him looking so tough yet deep inside I was trembling. 
He chuckled. “I could see the bravery, just like your father, trying to protect his little family” he said as he pulled his blade again. 
“This weapon, this is what I used, piercing your father's body and this is where he died. I'm sure you want to reunite with him” he said. 
“Your daddy’s girl aren't you?” he smirked, licking his blade as he ran towards me, My feet had its own mind running away from him. 
He smirked, slow and deliberate, licking the blood from his blade. “Running, are we?”
“Focus on your goal, you don't manipulate me!” I yelled running away. 
I ran, the ruined corridor stretching before me, each step a gamble on unstable ground. Behind me, Owain’s relentless strides closed in, his breath controlled, his focus razor-sharp. He wasn’t just chasing me—he was hunting me. 
A dead end loomed ahead. The balcony’s edge. A sheer drop into the fortress ruins below.
No escape.
Owain slowed, savoring the moment. “Nowhere left to run, dear girl.”
I turned, gripping the dagger at my side. “I’m not running.”
He laughed. “Then fight me.”
He lunged. I dodged, barely avoiding the blade as it scraped against the stone railing. He was stronger, faster. A direct fight would end in my death.
I needed something else.
My gaze flicked to the fractured ceiling—support beams hanging loose from the destruction. If I could get him in the right position…
I attacked, not to wound but to push. Each step, each strike, forcing him back, guiding him. He smirked, believing I was desperate.
“Pathetic,” he sneered, knocking my dagger from my grip.
I staggered back, exactly where I needed to be.
Owain raised his sword for the final strike and I yanked the broken chain beside me. The weakened beam above groaned, then snapped. A mass of shattered stone and iron came crashing down.
Owain barely had time to register his mistake before it buried him. Then a slow, rasping breath. I stepped forward, peering into the wreckage. He was pinned beneath the rubble, barely moving, dust and blood coating his face. His legs were crushed. His arms were too weak to lift the debris. His own arrogance had sealed his fate.
His gaze met mine, fury burning even now. “Finish it,” he rasped.
I picked up his fallen sword. For the first time, he looked uncertain.
“No,” I said, stepping back. “You’re not worth it.”
I turned, walking away as the fortress trembled, the walls groaning from the destruction. Dust and debris rained down, the air thick with smoke. I doubted he could move.
“No!” Owain’s voice rang out, raw with fury. “Zaira! You will pay for this!”
I didn’t stop.
“You can’t leave me here!” he yelled, his voice breaking between the cracks of falling stone. “You need me!”
I paused, just for a moment, glancing back over my shoulder. His wild, desperate eyes met mine, filled with rage, disbelief.
“I do,” I said, my voice cold. “I need you dead.”
Then I walked away, his screams echoing behind me as the fortress began to collapse.
He would die here. Buried. Forgotten. Powerless.
And that was a far worse death than any blade could give him.
I helped Thorne out of the collapsing room, our steps hurried as the fortress crumbled around us. Stones crashed down, dust filling the air, but we pushed forward until we were finally clear of the destruction.
I lowered him against the wall, my gaze immediately going to his wound. Blood seeped through the fabric, his breathing labored. I reached out—and suddenly, just like during my surgery, I saw it. The inside of his body, the damage beneath the skin.
This… this is what they meant by my talent.
Swallowing hard, I focused, searching for the source of the bleeding. There. I pressed my hands over it, applying pressure. It would hold for now, but he needed real medical attention.
Thorne exhaled sharply, then smirked despite the pain. “Remind me never to piss you off. I’d rather not end up buried under a pile of rubble like that bastard.”
A soft chuckle escaped me. “What now? We need to get out of here,” I said.
Thorne exhaled heavily. “Help me up. Blackwell’s team is close.”
I nodded, slipping an arm around him as we moved forward. The fortress groaned, debris crashing down around us. Just as we turned the corner, my blood ran cold.
A group of hooded enforcers stood in our path. Their dark uniforms bore Owain’s sigil, their masked faces unreadable. One of them tilted his head, as if amused.
“There they are,” he murmured. “Take them.”
Thorne immediately pulled me behind him, reaching for his weapon, but before they could strike—
A wall of fire erupted between us, the heat searing, the flames roaring to life as if summoned by some unseen force. The enforcers reeled back, momentarily blinded.
A strong hand grabbed my arm, yanking me back just as another piece of debris crashed down where I had stood moments ago. I looked up, my breath hitching in relief at the sight of the kingdom’s crest.
“We’re glad you made it out, Sire,” the knight said, his voice steady but urgent. “Captain Blackwell sent us to find you.”
He stopped abruptly as a section of the fortress crumbled away, revealing more knights outside, their torches illuminating the battlefield. Explosions rocked the structure, sending shards of stone flying.
“The fire is spreading too fast!” another knight shouted. “We have to climb down—now.”
I clenched my jaw, glancing at Thorne. His breathing was labored, his injury worsening. He wouldn’t make it down a climb like this.
“He’s injured. He can’t do that,” I argued. “A stretcher would be safer—I’ll keep him stable, just get us something!”
The knight hesitated, glancing at the rapidly consuming flames. Smoke curled into the sky, suffocating and thick. We didn’t have much time.
“Please,” I pressed.
Finally, with a sharp nod, the knight signaled to his men. “Get a stretcher, now!”
Another explosion rattled the foundation, the fire licking closer. Thorne’s grip on my arm tightened as his eyes flickered open. “Zaira… you need to go first.”
“No,” I said firmly, adjusting my hold on him. “We’re getting out of here together.”
The fire crept closer, the heat unbearable. Just when I thought we had run out of time, the knights returned with the stretcher, working swiftly to secure Thorne.
“Go, go!” one of them ordered, and with one final glance at the collapsing fortress, we descended—escaping just as the inferno consumed what was left behind.
As I climbed down, I spotted Thorne safely on the ground, the knights rushing him toward the medics. Relief barely settled in my chest when a sudden explosion erupted behind me, shaking the fortress.
The impact sent a violent tremor through the ladder. My hands slipped, and a startled cry tore from my throat as the wooden rungs splintered beneath me.
“The ladder’s coming loose!” a knight shouted from below.
I clung to the swaying frame, my heart hammering as the fire surged closer. Smoke choked the air, heat licking at my skin. The knights scrambled below, dragging anything soft—a tarp, spare cloaks—to break my fall.
“Hold on!” one of them yelled.
I tried. I really did. But the fire climbed faster than I could move, eating away at the rope securing the ladder.
A sharp snap echoed through the chaos.
The rope broke.
And I fell.
My breath hitched as if time had stopped. For a moment, all I could see was the raging fire, the collapsing fortress, and the endless drop below. I was about to fall to my death—
Until something caught me.
The impact wasn’t bone-shattering. Instead, a soft cloth stretched beneath me, halting gravity’s pull just before I hit the ground. My body trembled, my chest heaving as I processed what had happened.
The knights had managed to catch me.
“You’re safe!” one of them breathed in relief, pulling me off the makeshift net.
I barely had time to recover when another explosion rocked the ruins, sending debris raining down around us. Strong hands steadied me, and when I looked up, I saw Thorne watching me, concern laced in his tired expression.
An hour later, part of Owain’s fortress had collapsed, leaving behind smoldering ruins. The fire had finally died down, and medical teams worked tirelessly around the area. I sat outside, wrapped in a thick blanket, the cold air biting at my skin. Thorne was inside one of the medical tents, receiving treatment.
When I spotted Blackwell, I immediately stood. “Captain.”
He stopped, turning to face me.
“Is he going to be okay?” I asked, unable to hide the concern in my voice.
Blackwell exhaled. “You don’t have to worry. Thorne’s been through worse—he’ll survive.”
Relief flooded through me.
“I appreciate you looking after him,” he added. Then his expression darkened slightly. “We recovered Owain’s body. He’s dead. But Caden managed to escape.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
“Don’t worry,” Blackwell assured me. “We’ve already tracked him. Leave that to me.”
I nodded slowly, tension easing.
“Can I see Thorne?” I asked.
Blackwell shook his head. “He’s asleep. The doctors are stitching him up. You’ll be able to see him when we return to the kingdom.” He paused, then his expression softened. “For now, you have someone else to deal with.”
I frowned in confusion—until a familiar voice called out behind me.
“You’re safe! Thank God, Zai!”
Before I could react, I was yanked into a tight embrace and knocked back into the snow.
Callista.
Her arms trembled as she held onto me. “You’re not hurt, are you? Did Caden really kidnap you? I swear, I need to talk to him—Blackwell—”
I stopped her with a gentle squeeze of her hand. “I’m fine, Stella. Just let them handle Caden. I missed you guys.”
I turned to see Ainsley standing there, his eyes red and glassy. Without a word, he pulled me into a careful hug.
“I thought we lost you,” he whispered, his voice barely holding together.
I closed my eyes, leaning into the comfort of my friends. “I’m here.”
“Please, don’t get kidnapped again,” she cried, her voice breaking.
My face softened as I hugged her back. “I won’t.”
Callista sniffled, pulling away just enough to look at me. “You know, after the news, Ainsley wouldn’t stop crying.”
I glanced at Ainsley, who let out an embarrassed huff, looking away.
I smiled, warmth spreading through my chest. “I really appreciate you guys. Thank you… but I’m safe now.”
Callista wiped her eyes, nodding. “You better be.”
A cool breeze swept through the camp, carrying the scent of snow and ash. The remnants of Owain’s fortress still smoldered in the distance, a haunting reminder of the battle we had barely survived. But here, at this moment, I was safe. Thorne was safe. And for now, that was enough.
Callista and Ainsley stayed close, their presence grounding me. The weight of everything—the bloodshed, the near-death moments, the fight for survival—pressed heavily on my chest, but I exhaled, letting it go.
Tomorrow, there will be more battles to fight. More enemies lurking in the shadows. But tonight, under the cold night sky, surrounded by the people who mattered, I allowed myself to breathe.
For the first time in a long time, I let myself believe—we had won.