LEENA
The tunnel narrows, then twists even tighter, the rock folding in on itself like it’s trying to finish what the hunter started. We turn a corner, and the way forward is blocked by a rockslide.
I slow because there’s nowhere to go.
I feel the thing behind us in the way the air tightens, in the scrape of metal against stone that never stops, never hesitates. We’re out of room. Out of angles. Out of time.
Desperate, I search for anything that will give us a chance. A ray of hope. But there’s nothing. Kael and I look at each other. My heart thunders in my ears. Tears well in my eyes. We’ve come so far. We’re so close, but there’s nothing.
His eyes brighten. He raises his hand. It shakes as he does. Then he presses his fingers to my cheek. He leans in, closer until our foreheads touch.
“Treasure,” he whispers, the warmth of his breath passing over my face.
I close my eyes, choking on a sob.
“Not like this,” I whisper back. “No. Not yet.”
“Mine. My… love,” he says, wincing in pain.
Then he straightens and turns. He’s barely standing, but I can’t tell that by looking at him. He squares his shoulders, his wings opening with a snap as he raises his tail, and he growls in defiance.
This is his last stand.
Our last stand.
I sob, unable to hold it back. Then I pick up a rock, the only weapon to hand and move to his side.
Something shifts above us. It’s faint—not the tunnel or the creature. I dare a fast glance up and back, then see light.
I catch it at the edge of my vision, a thin, fractured line cutting through the rock overhead where the stone has split just enough to let something through. Brightness.
“There,” I say, sharper now, turning just enough to confirm it.
A break. A literal ray of hope. We might be able to break through. Get out of this infernal tunnel. Survive a little longer, at least.
“Go.”
“No,” I say without even thinking about it. “Together.”
He looks back toward where the thing is coming, then nods sharply. There’s no argument because we don’t have time for it. We move together.
The rockslide is unstable, jagged edges biting into my hands as I reach for the first hold, dragging us both forward, upward, every movement a risk as loose stone shifts under our feet.
We climb. It’s slow, too slow. He slips.
“No,” I breathe, tightening my grip, adjusting before we both lose balance and go down.
“Stay with me.”
“I… am…”
The opening narrows above us, forcing me to wedge my shoulder into the rock to get enough leverage to help him.
My arms burn. My grip slips.
I catch. I hold. Don’t let go.
Behind us it hits the base of the climb hard. The impact shakes the rock under us, dust raining down as the space we just left fractures further under its weight.
