The safe house was a modest cabin, its wooden walls weathered by years of harsh mountain winters. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of pine and the faint tang of smoke from the hearth. Lyra lit a fire, the flames casting flickering shadows across the room, while Garrick secured the perimeter with the precision of a seasoned warrior.
Ash sat by the fire, his new face still feeling foreign. He ran a hand over his jaw, the sharp angles unfamiliar beneath his fingertips. The transformation had been more than physical—it felt as though a part of him had been stripped away, leaving behind a hollow shell.
"You'll get used to it," Lyra said, her voice cutting through his thoughts. She tossed him a piece of dried meat and a waterskin. "Eat. You'll need your strength."
Ash caught the provisions, his stomach growling in response. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until now. "Thanks," he said, his voice still strange to his own ears.
Lyra sat across from him, her emerald eyes studying him with a mix of curiosity and caution. "So, what's the plan now? You've got a new face, but that won't mean much if you don't know how to use it."
Ash chewed thoughtfully, his mind racing. "I need to find a way to protect Seraphina. The Duke's death will have consequences, and she's in more danger than ever."
Lyra raised an eyebrow. "The Black Rose? She's not exactly helpless."
"No," Ash admitted. "But she's surrounded by enemies. And I… I owe her."
Lyra smirked. "Owe her? Or care about her?"
Ash didn't respond, his gaze fixed on the fire. The truth was, he didn't know. Seraphina was a force of nature, a woman who wielded power and fear with equal skill. But beneath the icy exterior, he'd glimpsed something vulnerable—something worth protecting.
Garrick entered the cabin, his scarred face grim. "We're being watched."
Lyra's smirk vanished, replaced by a look of sharp focus. "How many?"
"One," Garrick replied. "Maybe two. They're good. Almost didn't spot them."
Ash's heart raced. "Who are they?"
"Could be bounty hunters," Lyra said, her hand resting on the hilt of her dagger. "Or worse."
"Worse?" Ash echoed.
Lyra's gaze met his, her expression serious. "The Duke had allies. Powerful ones. And they won't take kindly to what you've done."
---
**Scene Break**
The night passed in tense silence, the fire crackling softly as the three of them kept watch. Ash's mind raced, his thoughts a whirlwind of fear and determination. He couldn't stay hidden forever. Sooner or later, he'd have to face the consequences of his actions.
As dawn approached, Lyra stood, her movements fluid and purposeful. "We need to move. If they're still out there, they'll make their move soon."
Ash nodded, his body aching with exhaustion. "Where do we go?"
"There's a town a day's journey from here," Lyra said. "It's neutral territory. No one will ask questions."
Garrick grunted in agreement, his one eye scanning the treeline.
They packed quickly, the cabin returning to its state of disuse. As they stepped outside, the cold mountain air bit at Ash's skin, the sky a pale gray as the sun began to rise.
The forest was eerily quiet, the usual sounds of birds and wildlife absent. Ash's senses were on high alert, every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs sending a jolt of adrenaline through his veins.
They hadn't gone far when the attack came.
A figure emerged from the shadows, their movements swift and silent. A blade flashed in the dim light, aimed straight for Ash's throat.
Lyra reacted instantly, her dagger meeting the attacker's blade with a clash of steel. Garrick was already moving, his sword drawn as he engaged a second assailant.
Ash stumbled back, his heart pounding. He wasn't a fighter—not in this world, not in any world. But he couldn't just stand there.
He grabbed a fallen branch, its weight awkward in his hands, and swung at the nearest attacker. The branch connected with a satisfying thud, sending the man stumbling back.
Lyra dispatched her opponent with a swift strike, her movements a blur of precision and grace. Garrick's fight was more brutal, his strength and skill overwhelming his adversary.
When the dust settled, the attackers lay motionless, their bodies blending into the forest floor.
Lyra wiped her blade on her tunic, her expression grim. "They're getting bolder."
"Who were they?" Ash asked, his voice trembling.
"Mercenaries," Garrick said, his tone flat. "Hired to bring you in—or bring you down."
Lyra sheathed her dagger, her gaze meeting Ash's. "This changes things. If they've found us here, they'll find us anywhere."
Ash's mind raced. "Then we need to stay ahead of them. We need to strike first."
Lyra raised an eyebrow. "Strike first? With what army?"
"Not an army," Ash said, his voice steady. "A plan."
---
**Scene Break**
As they continued their journey, Ash couldn't shake the feeling that the shadows were closing in. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the air thick with tension.
And somewhere, in the depths of Valencrest, Seraphina stood at the window, her gaze fixed on the horizon. The Black Rose had thorns, but even roses could wilt.