"Can't promise that." His arms tighten around me fractionally, careful not to restrict my breathing but firm enough to convey absolute commitment. "Not when it comes to you. Not when the alternative is accepting that you're gone."
The raw honesty in his voice makes tears burn behind my eyes, though whether from relief or gratitude or something deeper, I can't quite tell. For the first time since Sera led me away from safety, I allow myself to believe that maybe, justmaybe, I really am worth protecting. Worth choosing. Worth the kind of love that drives someone to impossible acts of courage.
"Kai," Ursik's voice carries from somewhere beyond the ruined cell door, urgent but not panicked. "We need to move. More Stonevein coming, and some of them look seriously unhappy about their leadership situation."
Kai's response rumbles through his chest before emerging as actual words. "Coming." But he doesn't release me immediately, instead pulling back just enough to cup my face in hands large enough to engulf my skull entirely, ice-blue eyes searching mine with intensity that makes my breath catch.
"I'm getting you home," he says with a promise that feels more binding than any formal vow. "I'm keeping you safe, and I'm never letting anyone take you away from me again."
The fierce protectiveness in his voice, combined with the way he's looking at me like I'm the only thing anchoring him to sanity, makes something fundamental shift in my chest. Not just relief or gratitude, but recognition of what I've been too afraid to acknowledge even to myself.
I love him. Completely, desperately, with every part of myself I've spent years protecting from exactly this kind of vulnerability. And maybe, judging by the way he's holding me like I'm precious beyond measure, he feels the same way.
18
KAI
The moment I start to guide Saela toward the cell door, her body goes rigid against mine. She pulls back with sudden force that catches me off guard, gray-green eyes blazing with determination that I recognize all too well—the same stubborn fire that got her into this mess in the first place.
"I can't leave." Her voice carries absolute conviction despite the way it trembles slightly. "Not without Ressa. She's here somewhere, and if we abandon her now?—"
"Saela." I try to keep my tone gentle, though every instinct screams at me to get her as far from this place as possible before more Stonevein warriors arrive. "We don't even know if she's still alive."
The words make her flinch before her jaw sets with stubborn resolve that would be admirable if it weren't so potentially fatal. "Then we find out. We search this place until we know for certain."
"This isn't a discussion we have time for." Ursik's voice carries from the corridor, rough with urgency. "More guards are coming, and they're bringing friends."
But Saela doesn't budge, planting her feet with stability that speaks to years of surviving by sheer force of will. "I won't leave her behind. I can't. She's the only family I have left, and I already failed her once."
The raw pain in her voice makes something crack open in my chest, understanding flooding through me with clarity that's both illuminating and terrifying. This isn't just loyalty or friendship—it's guilt and love and a desperate need to prove that she's capable of protecting the people who matter to her. The same driving force that sent me charging into impossible odds to retrieve her from this stone hell.
I could overrule her. Could simply lift her into my arms and carry her out despite her protests, rely on my superior size and strength to make the decision for both of us. It would be practical, logical, the smart choice that prioritizes confirmed survival over uncertain rescue attempts.
But looking at her face, seeing the way her entire being rebels against the idea of abandoning someone she loves, I realize that forcing her to leave would break something essential inside her. Would make her hate herself, and possibly me, in ways that might never heal completely.
"Falla," I call toward the corridor, making a choice that goes against every tactical instinct I possess. "How long do we have?"
"Not long enough for whatever foolishness you're considering," comes the dry response, though I can hear him moving closer despite his words. "But maybe enough if we move fast and don't get distracted by unnecessary heroics."
Saela's expression transforms with relief so profound it makes my breath catch in my throat. She reaches for my hand with trembling fingers that grip mine like a lifeline, and the trust in that simple gesture makes me want to promise her impossible things.
"Thank you," she whispers, the words rough with emotion that threatens to undo my carefully maintained composure entirely. "Thank you for understanding."
"Don't thank me yet," I mutter, already regretting this decision even as I commit to it completely. "We might all die in the next few minutes because of this choice."
Ursik appears in the doorway with an expression that clearly questions my sanity, his massive frame bloodied but intact. "Please tell me you're not about to suggest what I think you're about to suggest."
"We search for her friend." I keep my voice level despite the way my heart hammers against my ribs. "Quickly, efficiently, and we leave the moment we find her or confirm she's beyond help."
"Wonderful." Falla's voice carries resignation mixed with dark humor as he joins us, his healer's bag secured across his shoulder and blade still dripping crimson in his free hand. "Because nothing says 'tactical brilliance' like extending our stay in enemy territory to look for someone who might already be dead."
Saela flinches at his bluntness, but doesn't argue, recognizing pragmatism when she hears it. "She's alive," she says with conviction that brooks no argument. "I know she is."
"Then we better find her fast," Ursik growls, already moving toward the corridor with a purposeful stride. "Because those reinforcements aren't going to wait politely while we conduct our search."
The next several minutes blur together in a nightmare of stone corridors and locked doors, each cell we check revealing fresh horrors that make my jaw clench with fury I can barely contain. The Stonevein's definition of "experimentation" extends far beyond what any reasonable warrior would consider acceptable treatment of prisoners.
Saela moves beside me with desperate efficiency, checking every shadow and calling Ressa's name in urgent whispers that echo off walls stained with evidence of prolonged suffering. Her hands shake slightly as she peers into each cell, but her voice remains steady, controlled by sheer force of will that impresses me despite our circumstances.
