One breath.
Two.
A click.
The door creaked open. Every second stretched into an eternity.
Brynelle’s head snapped toward the corridor. The guards were there but not looking our way.Their laughter filled the damp air, bouncing off the stone walls.
They didn’t know.
Not yet.
My fingers curled tighter around the bone fragment. Better than nothing.
Now or never.
I struck first.
One step. Silent.
The first guard didn’t have time tobreathebefore I was on him.
My hand clamped over his mouth, stifling the beginnings of a warning. The bone dagger was crude, but effective as it sank into his throat.A quick, brutal slice. Heat bloomed over my arm, blood spilling fast and thick.
The body sagged against me, dead weight. I let it drop.
Brynelle was already moving.
The second guard had started to turn whenshe struck.
Her stolen bit of metal drove into his neck. A strangled gurgle. A shuddering gasp. A final, failing twitch of muscle, then silence.
The bodies hit the ground.
We didn’t breathe. Not until we were sure the noise hadn’t carried, that no more footsteps would follow.
Shaelith exhaled, kneeling beside one of the fallen guards. She stripped a blade from his hip, its weight settling easily into her palm. A proper weapon. A real one.
Brynelle nudged the other guard with her foot before crouching down, pulling a second blade free from his belt. She turned, offering it to me.
I shook my head. Gestured for her to take it.
Her brows pulled together, but she didn’t argue. Not out loud, anyway. Instead, she huffed, rolling her eyes before tucking the weapon into her grip.
We moved. The corridor ahead stretched long and quiet, the stone damp with condensation, torchlight flickering along the far wall. I could hear my own heartbeat pounding in my ears, a rhythm that seemed too loud, too alive.
But we kept moving.
The corridors weretoo bright. Too many open spaces.Too many places to get caught.
We moved like shadows, each step measured, each breath controlled. Shaelith led, her movements fluid and deliberate. She gripped the stolen blade so tightly her knuckles had gone white. Brynelle stayed low, fingers twitching, her entire bodycoiled and waitingfor the next strike.
Every turn brought us closer.
We took another.
Brynelle lunged, dagger flashing. The bladesank into the soldier’s gut,hot and wet. A strangled sound escaped his lips. Shaelith was already there, driving her blade into his throat before he couldscream.
