The journey back to the safe house was tense and silent. Kalen led the way, his shoulders rigid, his bloodied arm clutched tightly to his side. Lyanna followed, her mind racing with questions she dared not ask.
The forest seemed more oppressive now, the shadows deeper, the rustling leaves carrying an ominous undertone. Every sound made her flinch, her nerves raw from the confrontation.
When they finally reached the dilapidated cottage hidden among the trees, Kalen pushed the door open and stepped inside without a word. Lyanna hesitated before following, her unease growing with each passing second.
A Fragile Truce
"Sit," Kalen said, gesturing to the worn wooden chair by the hearth.
Lyanna bristled at his commanding tone but complied, watching as he rummaged through a bag for supplies.
"You're hurt," she said, breaking the silence.
"It's nothing," he muttered, pulling out a small vial and some bandages.
"It didn't look like nothing," she countered, rising from her seat.
He shot her a warning glance but didn't stop her as she approached. Taking the bandages from his hands, she knelt beside him, her fingers trembling slightly as she examined the gash on his arm.
"This will need stitching," she murmured, her voice softer now.
"I've handled worse," he said, his tone almost dismissive.
"Maybe," she replied, meeting his gaze. "But you don't have to handle it alone."
For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—surprise, perhaps, or gratitude—but it was gone before she could be sure.
A Dangerous Proposition
As Lyanna worked, the silence between them grew heavier, filled with unspoken questions. Finally, she couldn't hold back any longer.
"Why did that enforcer call you a traitor?" she asked, her voice steady despite the weight of the question.
Kalen tensed, his jaw tightening. "Because I broke their rules," he said simply.
"Which rules?"
"The ones that matter most."
Lyanna frowned. "You'll have to be more specific than that."
He hesitated, his gaze distant. "The guild doesn't forgive betrayal. And in their eyes, betrayal is anything that puts their secrets at risk."
"So you left," she said, piecing it together.
"I didn't just leave," he admitted, his voice low. "I took something from them. Something they want back."
"What could be so important that they'd send someone like that after you?"
Kalen didn't answer immediately, his expression guarded. "It's better if you don't know."
Lyanna bristled at his evasiveness. "You keep saying that, but how am I supposed to trust you if you won't tell me anything?"
"You don't have to trust me," he said, his voice hard. "You just have to stay alive."
The words stung, but before she could respond, he rose to his feet, pacing the small room like a caged animal.
A New Threat
The sound of horses outside shattered the fragile truce between them. Kalen froze, his hand immediately going to his sword.
"Stay here," he ordered, his voice sharp.
Lyanna ignored him, moving to the window to peer outside. What she saw made her blood run cold.
A group of riders, their faces obscured by hoods, dismounted just beyond the tree line. They moved with practiced precision, spreading out to surround the cottage.
"Kalen," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"I see them," he replied, already moving to bar the door.
"What do we do?"
"We fight," he said grimly.
The Siege
The first blow came seconds later, the door shuddering under the force of an axe. Kalen braced himself, his sword drawn, as the wood splintered.
Lyanna grabbed the nearest weapon she could find—a rusted dagger left by the hearth. Her heart pounded as the door gave way, revealing the attackers.
They wore the same insignia as the enforcer: a crimson thorn.
The fight was chaotic and brutal. Kalen moved like a predator, his blade cutting through the attackers with ruthless efficiency. Lyanna stayed close, her grip on the dagger tightening as she struggled to keep up.
One of the attackers lunged at her, their blade aimed for her throat. She reacted instinctively, plunging the dagger into their side. The man fell with a strangled cry, and Lyanna stumbled back, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
Kalen spared her a brief glance, his expression unreadable, before turning his attention back to the remaining attackers.
A Narrow Escape
When the last of the attackers fell, the cottage was in ruins, the air thick with the smell of blood and smoke.
Kalen leaned heavily against the wall, his wounds catching up to him. Lyanna rushed to his side, her hands trembling as she tried to assess the damage.
"We need to get out of here," she said, her voice urgent.
He nodded, though his movements were sluggish. "There's a safe house further north," he said. "We can make it by dawn if we leave now."
Lyanna helped him to his feet, her mind racing. The attack had been too coordinated, too precise. The guild wasn't just after Kalen—they were after her, too.
As they stumbled into the night, leaving the wreckage of the cottage behind, one thought echoed in her mind:
The guild wouldn't stop until they were both dead.