Alden’s POVPain returned before light did.A deep, throbbing ache pulsed behind my eyes, slow and merciless, as if someone were striking the inside of my skull with a dull hammer. My mouth tasted like iron and ash while my tongue felt thick and useless.I groaned softly.The ground beneath me wasn’t forest soil anymore.It was hard.Wooden.Moving.I forced my eyes open.The world lurched.I was lying on my side inside a wagon, wrists bound with coarse rope in front of me. The boards beneath were splintered and uneven, rattling as the wheels rolled over stone. Through the slats, pale morning light streamed in, too bright, stabbing straight through my skull.“Easy,” someone murmured nearby.I turned my head slowly.Thomas lay opposite me, one cheek already darkening with a bruise, his wrists bound like mine. He looked miserable but conscious. Beyond him, Hoseman sat with his back against the wagon wall, jaw clenched, eyes sharp despite the swelling along his temple and all other Knigh

Alden’s POVThe wagon creaked like an old throat clearing itself.They bound the girl carefully, as if touching a loaded trap. Iron cuffs at her wrists. Rope at her ankles. A padded gag tied loosely enough that she could breathe but not chant the villagers had insisted. Wooden slats enclosed the wagon like ribs. Only a thin opening at the back allowed light and air.She climbed up without resistance, one foot after another, eyes lowered. No more feral thrashing. No violent, snapping strength.Just quiet.That, somehow, was worse.The village head watched from his chair beneath the eaves. His people stood clustered together behind him, shoulders touching, fear holding them tighter than arms ever could. Mothers clutched children. Old men leaned on canes that shook more than they did.“May the monks judge swiftly,” the village head said.Rowan gave a single nod. “They will.”We mounted our horses. The men on the wagon flicked the reins. The wheels rolled over the packed dirt.For one br

Hoseman's POVThe fire behind me had burned down to embers by the time I reached the wagon.I hated this part of the night where sleep pulled at your bones but duty kept your feet planted. The forest felt closer now, pressing in from all sides. The wagon loomed in front of me like a coffin on wheels, quiet except for the faint creak of wood and the barely audible sound of breathing inside.I adjusted my grip on my spear and paced slightly.“She’s just a girl,” I muttered to myself. “Chained, gagged, and wrapped in wool. What’s she going to do, glare me to death?”Still… I didn’t turn my back on the wagon.Every so often, the firelight glowed just enough for me to catch the outline of her through the slats. She wasn’t sleeping. I could feel her awareness like a weight.Time dragged.Then footsteps crunched behind me.I turned lifting my spear instinctively but relaxed when I saw the priest and Sir Edric approaching. The priest’s robes swayed with each step and the book tucked under his

Alden’s POV The moment we crossed the tree line, the world narrowed to breath, hoofbeats, and the thin orange glow of torches bobbing like nervous hearts in the dark Tree branches clawed at our cloaks and the roots twisted beneath our horses’ hooves. The smell of blood, pine, and damp earth mixed into something sharp and uneasy.She had gone this way.I could feel it.Not because of tracks although there were some including broken branches.“Slow,” Rowan ordered from the front. “Watch the ground.”But then“There!” Thomas shouted.A shadow broke free from the trees to our left.It moved fast.“Ride!” Rowan roared as we surged forward.Hoseman's POV I kicked my horse hard with my lungs burning as the branches whipped past my face. The shadow darted between trees, cloak flaring pale for just a heartbeat before vanishing again.“She’s heading downhill!” Fallon yelled.The forest thinned suddenly.The trees opened into a wide clearing and beyond itRuins.A deserted village crouched in

Alden’s POVShe hit the stone hard,the sound echoed like a bone on rock, breath leaving her body in a sharp, broken gasp. For one terrifying moment I thought Rowan had killed her. I was still on my knees in Cedric’s blood, my hands shaking with my heart torn open, when everything went still.Then she moved.Not violently or like a cornered animal anymore.She curled inward, clutching her arms around herself as if the cold had finally reached her bones. Her shoulders shook and a thin, broken sound slipped from her throat.She was crying.“I didn’t mean to,” she sobbed. “I had no choice. I swear it. I didn’t want anyone to die.” but no one answered.Rowan stood over her with his sword still raised and his chest rising and falling slowly, eyes like stone. Thomas staggered back to his feet, coughing with fingers red where she’d clawed at his throat. Hoseman hovered near the wall, pale and tight-jawed. The torches flickered, casting her face in fragments and innocent one moment, sharp the