A little Rest
A little Rest
Chapter 111:
The cave was cold, small drips of water leaking from some parts of the ceiling.
Lucien built a small fire, the flames flickering weakly in the damp air. The light painted his face in gold and shadow. He hadn’t said much since they’d left the tower, but the tightness around his eyes hadn’t eased once.
His sharp eyes cut through the dim light, scanning for any sign of movement beyond the cave. For the first time since she’d met Lucien, Aria thought he looked… uncertain. He looked like a man holding himself together with just his bare hands, afraid of what would happen if he let go.
Beside him, Aria knelt by Kael. The faint glow of the fire painted her face in gold hues and shadow. Kael’s breathing had steadied, but his skin was pale beneath the dirt and dried blood. His shirt clung wetly to his ribs, the bruises already darkening there.
“Drink,” she whispered, lifting the canteen to his lips.
He swallowed weakly, then tried to smile. “You should… save it.”
She frowned. “For what? The next near-death experience?”
He gave a quiet, pained chuckle. “You say that, like we can escape it.”
Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t answer. She knew Kael well enough to recognize when humor was his way of keeping them from worrying. His pulse was stronger now, but his eyes still looked hollow—unfocused, haunted.
Aria hugged her knees, staring at the rune glowing faintly beneath her skin. “We’ll figure it out,” she said, trying to sound sure. “We always do.”
Lucien’s gaze lifted, meeting hers across the fire. “Not if they keep coming like this.” He nodded to Kael, “How bad is he?” He asked, his voice low.
Aria looked up. “He’ll live. But he needs real rest, not this.”
Lucien nodded, his gaze dropping to the flickering fire. “We’ll move at first light.”
Kael’s head lolled toward him. “You think the hunters will wait that long?”
Lucien didn’t answer right away. The storm outside worsened, the sound of rain against stone filling the cave. None of them spoke again for some time. “No,” he said finally. “But they’ll be cautious now. They lost one of their own.”
Kael huffed softly. “Doesn’t sound like a win.”
“It’s not,” Lucien replied, voice grim. “Killing him only bought us a few hours.”
Aria leaned back against the wall, the heat of the fire barely touching her chilled skin. The rune beneath her clothes pulsed again, faint but insistent, almost as if it could sense Lucien’s unease. She rubbed at it absently, willing it to quiet.
Kael’s gaze flicked toward her. “It’s reacting again.”
She hesitated. “It hasn’t stopped since we found you.”
Lucien turned, sharp. “And you didn’t say anything?”
She met his glare evenly. “I didn’t want to add to what you’re already carrying.”
He looked away, but not before she saw it, the brief flash of guilt in his eyes. He’d been holding himself too tightly since the tower. She wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, that he couldn’t save everyone, but the words felt useless. He wouldn’t believe them anyway.
The fire cracked softly. Outside, thunder rolled across the valley.
Kael shifted, grimacing. “Hunters, working with rogues… That’s not normal, Lucien.”
Lucien’s tone was clipped. “I know.”
“They were organized,” Kael went on, his voice rough but steadying. “Not like the usual bounty scum. They knew how to track us, how to mask their scent.”
Lucien’s eyes flicked toward him from across the fire, his expression unreadable. “I know,” he repeated, “That’s what makes it worse.”
Kael shifted with a quiet groan, pressing a hand to his ribs. “You think they’ve done this before?”
Lucien’s jaw flexed. “Not openly. Hunters despise wolves. For them to cooperate with rogues…” He trailed off, his tone hardening. “Someone’s paying them well, or promising something bigger.”
Aria frowned, drawing her cloak tighter. “But why us? Why now?”
“Because word’s out,” Kael murmured, eyes half-closed. “About you. About what happened.”
The fire popped softly, and Aria froze. “The Rune?”
He nodded. “You think something that powerful goes unnoticed? Packs talk. Hunters listen. Everyone wants what they don’t understand.”
Lucien didn’t look at her, but his shoulders tensed. The storm outside roared louder, wind pushing rain through the narrow cave mouth. For a moment, it drowned out everything but the steady crackle of fire and Kael’s shallow breathing.
Aria rubbed her thumb along her palm, the faint pulse of the Rune thrumming beneath her skin. “If they’re after me,” she said, her voice small but steady, “then staying with me is just going to keep putting you both in danger.”
Lucien’s head snapped up. “Don’t,” he said, too sharp. “You don’t get to decide that.”
“I’m trying to be realistic,” she countered, though her voice shook. “Kael almost died. You’re hurt. You keep saying you’ll protect me, but it’s me they’re hunting.”
He stared at her for a long moment, something dark flickering in his eyes. “And what do you think happens if we leave you alone out here? You think they’ll stop because you make it easier for them?”
She didn’t answer.
Kael opened his eyes, watching them both. His tone was quiet, worn. “He’s right, Aria. You’d last maybe a day without backup.”
She shot him a glare. “You’re not helping.”
He gave a faint smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not trying to.”
Lucien leaned back, running a hand over his face. The firelight caught the faint silver glint of blood still dried along his jawline. “We move at dawn,” he said finally. “We’ll find another route east.”
Kael raised an eyebrow. “And hope we don’t get lucky enough to meet another group of hunters?”
Lucien didn’t reply, which was answer enough.
The rain lightened outside, turning into a steady drizzle against the stone. Aria pulled her knees closer, staring into the fire.
For the first time since the attack, she let herself feel it, the guilt, the fear, the ache of uncertainty that had been gnawing at her chest since they’d found Kael bound and bleeding.
He could’ve died.
Because of her.
Because the Rune wouldn’t stop burning every time she lost control.
She pressed a palm over the faint glow through her clothes, whispering under her breath, “What are you doing to me?”
Lucien’s voice broke through the quiet. “It’s not you,” he said, softer now. “It’s what’s tied to you.”
Aria looked up, startled. “You heard me?”
“I hear everything you say and don't,” he said, staring into the fire. “And I meant what I said earlier, we’ll find a way to stop it from taking more.”
She swallowed, voice barely above a whisper. “You sound like you still think I can control it.”
His gaze lifted to hers, steady and unflinching. “You can, I won't accept anything less.”
Kael shifted, drawing their attention. “If you two are done staring each other down,” he muttered, “maybe let the guy with the concussion get some sleep?”
Aria blinked, then almost laughed. “Fine. Sleep. But don’t think that gets you out of watch duty in the morning.”
Kael gave a faint smirk. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He turned his face toward the wall, his breathing evening out within minutes.
The fire burned lower, the light fading to embers. Outside, the storm had finally passed, leaving behind only the steady drip of water from the cave roof. Aria sat quietly, watching the glow dance across Lucien’s face. He looked tired, bone-deep tired.