The Stolen Heir’s Bond

Elaria's pulse thundered in her ears as the knights closed in.

She had heard stories of Varos's men—merciless, relentless, bound by blood and steel. They weren't just soldiers. They were executioners.

And they wanted Kael.

The lead knight, the one with silver armor, tilted his head slightly. "Prince Kael," he said smoothly. "Your father sends his regards."

Kael didn't flinch. He held his ground, sword steady. "Then he should have come himself."

The knight smiled, but it was sharp as a blade. "Oh, but he will." His gaze flicked to Elaria. "Once we bring him his wayward son… and his witch."

Elaria's fingers twitched. They knew.

They knew what she was.

Kael shifted slightly, just enough to step in front of her. "She's not part of this."

The knight's amusement deepened. "No? Then why does every bounty hunter in the kingdom have orders to bring her in alive?"

Elaria stiffened.

Kael shot her a look, but there was no time to explain.

Because the knights moved.

Steel flashed in the moonlight. Kael met the first strike with brutal efficiency, his blade locking against the knight's. Sparks flew as he twisted, slamming his shoulder into the man's chest.

Elaria barely had time to react before another knight lunged for her. She dodged, rolling into the snow. A sword struck the ground where she had just been, splintering the earth.

Too fast. Too many.

She needed time.

Her breath misted in the cold as she reached for her magic—pushed past the exhaustion, past the iron that had burned her hours before.

Power surged.

She threw out her hands, and the air exploded with force.

The closest knight was flung backward, crashing into a tree. Another staggered, struggling to stay upright.

It wasn't much, but it was enough.

Kael took the opening. He ducked beneath a knight's swing, driving his blade through the man's armor. Blood sprayed against the snow.

Then—pain.

A hand yanked at Elaria's hair, dragging her back.

The silver knight.

His grip was iron, his strength impossible to break. "Sloppy," he murmured. "I expected more from a witch."

Elaria snarled, twisting, but he slammed her into the ground. Hard.

The impact sent her vision spinning. Her magic flickered, slipping from her grasp.

The knight leaned in, voice a whisper. "You should have run when you had the chance."

A blade pressed to her throat.

No.

Not like this.

Elaria's fingers curled into the frozen dirt. Magic. She needed magic. But the exhaustion was dragging her under, pulling her into darkness—

Then Kael was there.

A blur of movement.

The knight barely had time to react before Kael drove his sword straight through his chest.

The man's breath hitched. He looked down, as if surprised to see the steel piercing his ribs.

Kael yanked the blade free.

The knight collapsed.

Elaria gasped for air.

Kael grabbed her wrist, pulling her up. "Can you stand?"

She swayed, but nodded. "We have to—"

A horn blew in the distance.

Kael stiffened. "More are coming."

Elaria clenched her jaw. They wouldn't survive another wave.

Only one option left.

"Run," she said.

Kael didn't hesitate. He grabbed her hand—and they ran.

Snow kicked up beneath their boots as they tore into the forest, shadows swallowing them whole. The horn sounded again, but they didn't look back.

Because if they did—they wouldn't escape.