Chapter 87

Chapter 87


Klaus POV

The fire had burned low again, and the silence pressed tight enough to choke. No one dared say it aloud, but the howls had drawn closer. Even now, faint echoes shivered through the trees, too far to be an ambush, too near to let anyone sleep easy.

I sat with my back against a pine, blade resting across my knees, pretending my attention was fixed outward. In truth, my gaze kept flicking sideways. To her. Always to her.

Amelia’s head rested against Demian’s shoulder, her lashes lowered, but I knew she wasn’t sleeping. She hadn’t managed true rest in days—none of us had—but hers was different. Restless. Fragile. She flinched at the smallest sound, her hand clutched too tight around the hilt of a weapon she barely knew how to wield.

And yet she stayed. She endured.

That fire in her hadn’t burned out.

It should’ve comforted me. Instead, it unsettled me.

\---

The shift changed near midnight. Elian moved past, his dark eyes locking briefly on mine. “Two hours,” he murmured. Command, not suggestion.

I nodded, watching him disappear into the trees.

The crackle of the fire filled the space he left. For a long while, none of us spoke. Then—soft, careful—her voice.

“You keep watching me.”

The words cut through the quiet like a blade. I stilled, fingers tightening on my weapon.

Slowly, I turned my head, meeting her gaze. She wasn’t hiding in Demian’s chest this time. Her chin lifted, wary but steady.

“You noticed,” I said evenly.

“How could I not?” Her brows drew together. “You glare at me one day, then act like—like this the next. Offering me water. Helping me walk. Looking at me as if—” She faltered, swallowing hard. “As if you don’t hate me anymore.”

Demian stirred, shifting her closer against him, his arm tightening protectively. His eyes, sharp even half-awake, narrowed at me across the flames.

I ignored him.

Instead, I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my knees, keeping my voice low. “And what if I don’t?”

Her breath hitched. I watched it ripple through her, that shock she couldn’t quite hide.

“You said it yourself yesterday,” she whispered. “I’m the chain around his neck. The prophecy’s curse. You wanted me gone.”

“And maybe I was wrong,” I admitted, surprising myself with the ease of the words.

Demian’s growl rumbled low, warning. “Klaus—”

“Stay out of this, brother,” I snapped, eyes still on Amelia. “She asked me. Let her hear the answer.”

Her eyes darted between us, caught in the tension stretched taut as a wire. Then they settled back on me. Searching.

“What changed?” she asked finally.

The truth pressed hot in my chest, unwelcome. I let silence drag, hoping it would kill the question. But she didn’t look away. For all her trembling, she held steady.

And so, against all reason, I said it.

“You.”

Her lips parted, confusion flashing across her face. “Me?”

“You don’t break the way I thought you would,” I muttered. My jaw tightened. “You fight, even when you’re terrified. Even when every step looks like it costs you. You keep standing.”

For a moment, only the fire spoke. Then—softly, barely audible—she said, “You make it sound like a compliment.”

“Maybe it is.”

Her eyes widened. Demian’s hand clenched around her waist like a man holding on to something precious. He didn’t speak, but the warning in his glare burned hotter than the flames.

I forced my gaze back to the dark beyond camp, breaking the hold of hers. “Don’t mistake me. I haven’t forgotten what you are.”

Her breath hitched again, sharper this time. “And what am I?”

I turned back, my eyes hard. “The choice he’ll never be able to unmake.”

That silenced her. Her lashes lowered, her hand tightening around Demian’s arm. For once, I couldn’t read the expression on her face—hurt, anger, or something in between.

And gods help me, the not knowing twisted worse than hatred ever did.

\---

The next morning, the storm had lifted enough to move. Pale light bled through the trees, cold and unforgiving. We packed quickly, tension dragging over every movement.

Elian strode ahead, silent as always. Corrin muttered curses under his breath about frostbite. Kira sharpened her blades as she walked, steel whispering against steel. Demian hovered close around Amelia, his protectiveness a shield no one dared breach.

No one except me.

She stumbled again—roots hidden beneath snow catching her boot. Demian reached instantly, but I was faster. My hand shot out, steadying her by the elbow.

She froze, eyes jerking to mine.

Again, that flicker of shock.

I let my grip linger a heartbeat longer than necessary. “Careful,” I said quietly.

She nodded, lips parting as if to thank me, then stopped herself. Instead, she pulled back into Demian’s orbit.

He glared at me over her head, his jaw tight enough to crack. “Stop touching her.”

“Maybe if you kept her upright, I wouldn’t have to,” I shot back.

His growl vibrated low, animal and dangerous. Amelia’s hand pressed against his chest, a silent plea for restraint.

“Demian,” she whispered. “Please.”

His eyes stayed locked on me another long, burning second. Then he dragged his gaze away, muttering under his breath.

I smiled faintly, humorless. “Always the noble protector.”

She glanced back at me, something unreadable in her expression. Almost like… disappointment.

That, more than Demian’s fury, unsettled me.

\---

By midday, the air thickened with tension. Every branch creak sounded like pursuit, every shadow like an ambush. The pack of howlers had been tracking us too long to be coincidence.

We halted in a narrow clearing, the others collapsing against stumps and rocks to catch their breath. I leaned against a tree, arms crossed, watching.

Amelia sat carefully, exhaustion etched into every line of her face. Her lips were pale, her breath ragged, but still she straightened her spine, forcing herself upright. Demian knelt beside her, murmuring low words I couldn’t hear.

I told myself to look away. To focus on the perimeter, on the dangers outside.

Instead, I walked toward her.

Her eyes snapped up, wide, startled. Demian’s head whipped around, glare sharp as a blade.

I ignored him.

“You’re holding your weapon wrong,” I said flatly.

Her brows drew together. “What?”

I crouched beside her, reaching for the blade at her side. She hesitated, glancing at Demian. He stiffened, shaking his head.

“Klaus—”

“Let him,” she whispered, surprising us both.

Demian’s jaw flexed, but he didn’t stop her when she handed me the blade.

I turned it in my hand, then pressed it back into hers, adjusting her grip. My fingers brushed over hers, deliberate. “You’re strangling it. Loosen here. Let the weapon work with you, not against you.”

She swallowed hard, nodding. “Like this?”

“Better.” I guided her stance, shifting her weight slightly. “If something comes at you, your balance will keep you alive longer than brute strength ever will.”

She tried, fumbling at first, then steadying. Her eyes lifted to mine, uncertain.

“Why are you helping me?” she whispered.

The question hung heavy. I let silence stretch, then said low, “Because if you’re going to insist on staying at his side, you might as well know how not to die.”

Her breath trembled out, somewhere between relief and confusion. “That’s… almost kind.”

I leaned closer, my voice a murmur only she could hear. “Don’t mistake survival lessons for kindness.”

But the look in her eyes told me she already had.

\---

Night fell heavy again, dragging shadows long and sharp. We made camp in silence, the others too worn to bicker.

I took watch near the fire, as I had the night before. She didn’t sleep—not really. Her head rested against Demian, but her eyes flicked toward me, catching mine across the flames.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she whispered suddenly.

I blinked. “Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to solve me.”

A bitter laugh escaped before I could stop it. “Maybe I am.”

Her lips pressed together. “And what do you see?”

I studied her, the firelight painting her face in shades of gold and shadow. Too soft, too breakable, and yet stubborn enough to bare teeth at me.

“Something I can’t name,” I admitted.

Her breath caught, her gaze holding mine longer than it should.

Demian stirred, eyes opening, narrowing instantly on me. “Enough.”

The moment snapped. She turned back into his chest, hiding her face.

But not before I caught the flicker of something in her eyes.

Curiosity.

Hope.

And gods damn me, the worst of it was—I wanted her to keep looking at me that way.