The castle was bleeding. Smoke curled through broken arches, shadows spilling across the marbled halls like spilled ink. Cries echoed faintly through the corridors—half alarm, half confusion. And somewhere beneath it all, Lucian ran.
Kyrell's body was heavy in his arms, blood slicking Lucian's sleeve, though whether it was Kyrell's or his own, he couldn't tell. The boy's skin was cold. Too cold. But he was breathing. Barely.
The Council had made their decree with cruel precision. The boy was to be taken. Judged. Disposed of.
Lucian had refused.
He'd tasted defiance like blood on his tongue and chose it anyway. The chamber guards had not expected him to draw first blood—certainly not from their own ranks. Now, those still living scrambled through the maze of corridors trying to piece together the impossible truth: Lucian, the Council's cherished executioner, had turned.
Not just for anyone.
For a boy.
For him.
---
They slipped into the underground tunnels—long-forgotten routes carved beneath the old citadel walls. The path had once been a hunter's escape. Now it was a lover's rebellion.
Kyrell stirred as they descended into the black.
"Lucian..."
"Don't speak. Save your strength."
Kyrell's fingers curled weakly against Lucian's chest. "They're coming..."
Lucian's jaw clenched. "Let them."
---
At the edge of the forest, Ray waited.
He held the reins of two dark steeds, hood pulled low, his expression unreadable. When he saw Kyrell limp in Lucian's arms, a flicker of pain crossed his face. But he said nothing. He simply held the stirrups steady.
They rode hard into the wildwood.
---
It was hours later, at a half-burnt sanctuary hidden in the moss-veiled hills, that Ray finally spoke. Kyrell slept, fevered and pale, swaddled near the hearth.
Lucian stood by the ruined window, back turned.
"They knew," Ray said.
Lucian didn't look at him.
"Before the summons, before the vote. They knew Kyrell was here. And they knew what he was becoming."
Lucian's voice was bitter. "So the trap was set."
Ray hesitated. Then:
"It wasn't Damien. Not fully. He disappeared after your last argument. The Council suspected, yes. But they didn't act. Not until Mara slipped."
Lucian turned, slowly. "What did she do?"
"She went to Elder Silas. Pleaded, cried. Said she saw something in Kyrell's eyes that didn't belong. Said she feared for your soul."
Lucian closed his eyes.
"They used her grief. Weaponized it."
Ray stepped closer. "They used all of you."
The fire crackled.
Lucian knelt beside Kyrell again, brushing hair from his damp forehead.
"He deserves the truth," Lucian whispered. "Even if it kills me."
Ray's voice was quiet. "Then tell him."
Outside, a storm was gathering. But inside, in the half-ruined chapel of the forgotten gods, Lucian watched over the boy who was never supposed to live.
The one he'd once sworn to destroy.
The one he'd chosen to save.
Even now.
Even still.
---