“Kaelreth.”
Ignoring the threat, I pull his head into my lap, then move my fingers along his chest. There’s too much blood. The bandage is soaked through and useless.
“Stay with me,” I say again, sharper now, pressing hard on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. “You don’t get to check out now.”
His breath catches, shallow and uneven. His eyes try to focus on me. Try—and fail.
“I… remain.”
It’s barely there, but it has to be enough.
Behind me, stone shifts. A grinding pull as the thing struggles to free itself.
I don’t look. I don’t let myself. Because if I do, I lose him.
I move fast, tearing the soaked fabric free and replacing it with what I have left, wrapping it tighter and anchoring it, ignoring the way his body tenses under the pressure.
“Stay with me,” I repeat, lower. “Stay.”
His jaw flexes. A flicker of pure will—good. I lean closer, bracing him, keeping him upright as best I can.
“You said we don’t quit,” I murmur. “So don’t.”
Behind me, a sharp crack splits the air, and I feel it through the ground. We’re out of time.
I slide my arm under his, pulling him up before he can try to do it wrong.
“Up,” I say. “Now.”
His body is dead weight for a moment. Panic surges. There’s no way I can lift him. One heartbeat. Two. Then, thankfully, he shifts. It’s not strength; it’s pure will.
He rises and leans on me. I pull harder, taking his weight, adjusting fast so he doesn’t collapse again. I keep my hand pressed against his side to keep the bleeding in check. He’s barely standing, but he’s standing.
“That’s it,” I say under my breath. “Stay with me.”
Behind us, the creature forces more of itself free with a grinding surge, metal and flesh scraping through rock that’s no longer holding.
“We move,” I say, and he nods.
We take the first step together, slow and controlled, every movement deliberate. Running isn’t an option anymore. If he falls again, he’s not getting back up, so I keep us moving. Together.
I don’t think escape is possible, but going forward is the only option. Behind us, it comes—not searching, but following.
We don’t get far before the tunnel tightens, forcing us closer. My shoulder scrapes stone as I guide him through. I adjust every step so he doesn’t twist the wrong way, trying not to tear the wound open further.
I feel more of his weight on me—not because he’s heavier, but because he’s slipping.
“Stay with me,” I murmur, not looking, keeping my focus forward, because if I lose that, we both go down.
“I… remain.”
It’s quieter, thinner, but it’s there. I’ll take it. I’ll take anything right now.
Behind us, the sound changes. Less grinding. More movement. Faster. It’s free. I thought I was numb, beyond any capacity to feel fear, even terror. I was wrong. My heart leaps into my throat. I tighten my grip on Kael.
“Of course you are,” I mutter under my breath, pushing harder, faster than we should in a space like this.
The tunnel curves sharply, then drops. Loose stone shifts under my foot, and I catch myself against the wall, dragging him with me, forcing both of us to stabilize before we lose our footing.
