Gone.
The word settled over the war camp like a blade pressed to flesh—silent, sharp, sinking in too deep to ignore.
Caidren did not move. Did not speak. Did not let even a flicker of reaction cross his face.
But inside—
Something snapped.
The messenger, still breathless from his journey, hesitated under the weight of Caidren's silence. He swallowed hard, then pressed on.
"They sent him beyond the stronghold's walls three days ago," the man continued. "An errand, they said. A message to the northern outpost."
Caidren's fingers twitched at his sides.
A message.
The outpost.
That was no errand.
That was a death sentence.
The mountains were merciless this time of year. The cold alone could kill a man if the wolves or raiders didn't find him first. And Elias—
Elias was no soldier.
No weapon.
No protection.
Just a half-starved boy with nothing but a parchment and a cloak too thin to fend off the wind.
A mistake.
They sent him out there to die.
Dain's low chuckle broke the heavy silence. "Well," he murmured, crossing his arms. "That certainly explains the mood."
Caidren turned his head, slow, deliberate. His voice came quiet. Dangerous. "What mood?"
Dain's smirk deepened.
"Oh, you know." He gestured loosely, as if this were nothing more than idle conversation. "The unease. The rush to win this war in two days. The way you fought like something was pulling you back."
He tilted his head. "Tell me, Caidren—when did you realize you cared?"
Caidren did not answer.
Because that would mean acknowledging something he had spent years refusing to name.
Something that had no place in his world.
Dain took his silence as an answer of its own.
His smirk widened. "Ah. I see."
Caidren turned away.
The generals were watching now, quiet, waiting. They knew him too well—knew that something was shifting, knew that their war-hardened leader was standing at the edge of something unknown.
He exhaled, slow, steady.
Then he spoke.
"Prepare the horses."
A murmur rippled through the gathered officers. One of them, bolder than the rest, took a step forward. "My lord, the battle is won. We still have prisoners to process, land to—"
Caidren's gaze snapped to him.
The man fell silent.
"We leave within the hour," Caidren said, voice cold. "Elias is out there." His jaw tightened. "And I intend to find him."
Dain let out a low, amused breath. "Ah. And here I thought you'd tell yourself he didn't matter."
Caidren turned his back on him.
Because he had told himself that.
For weeks.
But now, Elias was out there. Alone. In the cold. In the dark.
And Caidren—
Caidren was going to bring him back.