The night air was cold as Draven and Seraphina moved deeper into the wilderness. The king's men were behind them, but the forest was vast, and if they kept moving, they could stay ahead.
Still, Draven didn't like their odds.
Seraphina walked beside him, her steps uneven. She was exhausted, and though she tried to hide it, he could tell. She wasn't used to running for her life.
"We need to find shelter," he said.
She hesitated. "Are we stopping?"
"For a little while. You won't make it far if you collapse from exhaustion."
She didn't argue this time.
Draven led her toward a rocky outcrop, where a shallow cave lay hidden behind tangled roots. It wasn't much, but it would keep them out of sight.
As soon as they settled inside, Seraphina slumped against the wall. "I've never been this tired in my life."
Draven remained standing, peering into the darkness beyond the cave. Something felt… off.
The forest was too quiet.
He gripped his sword, muscles tense.
Then—
A snap.
Draven turned sharply. Footsteps. Slow, deliberate.
"Stay here," he whispered.
Seraphina's eyes widened, but she nodded.
Draven moved silently toward the cave entrance, his senses sharpening. His heart pounded, not with fear, but with anticipation. He had been hunted before.
And he knew when a predator was near.
The figure stepped into view—a man in dark leather armor, a curved blade resting at his hip. He wasn't a royal soldier. He moved too lightly, like a shadow.
A mercenary.
Draven's grip on his sword tightened. If there was one, there were more.
The man's gaze swept over the cave entrance before he reached for his weapon.
Draven struck first.
He lunged forward, his sword flashing in the moonlight. The mercenary barely had time to react before Draven's blade slashed across his chest. Blood sprayed onto the forest floor.
The man staggered back, choking, then collapsed.
Seraphina let out a muffled gasp.
Draven turned, his expression grim. "We have to go. Now."
She looked at the body, horror in her eyes. "He—"
"Wasn't alone," Draven finished. "Move."
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the trees just as more figures emerged from the shadows.
A voice cursed. "They spotted us. After them!"
Draven ran, his grip on Seraphina firm. The mercenaries were fast, but Draven knew these woods. He weaved between the trees, leading them into denser terrain where it was harder to move quickly.
Seraphina panted. "Who—are they?"
"Bounty hunters," Draven said. "Hired killers."
Her face paled. "My father sent them."
Draven didn't answer. He already knew the truth.
Ahead, the forest thinned, revealing a steep drop-off. A river rushed below, the water violent against the rocks.
Seraphina's breath caught. "You can't be serious."
Draven didn't hesitate. "Jump."
Without another word, he pulled her over the edge.
The last thing Seraphina heard was the roar of the water as they plunged into the darkness below.