Elena's lips parted, a name almost tearing itself from her throat — but she bit it back, swallowing the sound. Not here. Not now.
"Fuck" He groaned as he loomed over her, clutching the arrow, making sure to hold the arrow in place.
"Stay down," he ordered, his voice was rough and filled with pain, yet his eyes stayed on her. His voice was muffled by the Jaraian mask.
Tears well up in her eyes as the others started to move, Leo by her side in an instant, as he put his hand on Jake's shoulder.
"One is still out there," Jake groaned as he looked up at Leo. He nodded and alerted everyone else as Janis ran over to them, and he started to look at Jake's wound. He hissed as Janis carefully looked at the wound.
"It's deep, but it seems like it hasn't hit anything vital, can't say when I pull it out though," Janis said, his mind racing at how long this man has been watching them, and he was fighting while they chatted?
"How many in total shadow?" Leo asked as the guards protected the others waiting for another strike.
"Five, assassins were se- AGH," his words were cut off as Janis cut off the rest of the arrow. "Sorry," Janis said quickly, already pressing down with gauze. "Had to — or it'll tear more when we move you."
Jake fell to his side, teeth gritted, breath hissing through the mask. The broken shaft jutted from his ribs, slick with blood.
Elena moved without thinking, ignoring the pain lancing through her chest. She had to stay close — to see him breathe.
"Gauze!" Janis barked, and a guard rushed over. His hands worked fast, wrapping the bandages tightly. "There. It'll hold. The armor got in the way — otherwise, this would've gone clean through."
Jake nodded as he hissed through the pain; his mana channels were slightly scorched, sending a constant throbbing pain through his body.
"Guard, we need to take him to a proper physician. I only know how to quickly treat them, not heal," Janis said as he looked around as well.
She looked back at him — her wolf — his dark hair matted with sweat, the faint fur at his ears flattened, tail still against the ground. Each breath came like a tremor, like it might be his last.
Then a screech split the sky — high and shrill.
Every horse in the clearing reared, whinnying in panic. The guards shouted, struggling to keep control, but Bor was different. He stood frozen, eyes wide, nostrils flaring toward the light.
Elena followed his gaze — up into the blinding sun.
A hawk circled, its silhouette sharp and predatory against the glare. Her stomach dropped.
"Vantim," she whispered. "Audrey's here."
"What the seven hells is that?" Janis asked, his hand over his eyes to try to block the glare of the sun.
Elena didn't answer. Her voice hardened. "Leo. Take him. Follow it."
Leo blinked, but the command was enough. He grabbed Bor's reins and ran to Jake. Janis helped lift the wounded man, grunting beneath the weight of armor and muscle. Jake's head lolled, breath ragged.
They heaved him over Bor's back. Blood darkened the horse's coat.
Leo mounted, gripping the reins so hard his knuckles went white. He looked down at Elena, waiting for orders, for permission, maybe for hope.
Her eyes met his, glassy with fear. "Save him," she said softly.
Leo gripped the reins tighter as he flicked them, and Bor took off. Leo's heart pounded in his chest, along with Bor's hooves, as he prayed quietly to the gods not to fail the Falmil house, or Lady Falmil herself, no, not again.
His eyes darted up, tracking the hawk as it led him. He looked back at Jake's limp form; he was losing consciousness, he realized, then he yelled,
"Come on, man," he shouted, voice echoing through the trees. "Don't die on me!"
Jake groaned, barely aware. The arrow, the pain — it all blurred. His thoughts grasped at something, anything to hold him back from the dark.
Then he saw her.
Her voice, her eyes, her hand trembling against his.
Elena — his light in the shadows.
He wouldn't die today. Not while she waited. They still had a future to build — and he'd be damned if he let fate steal that away.He would not die today. Not while she was still calling him back — even if she could not say his name aloud.
"I'm fucking awake," Jake sputtered, his voice ragged. His hand slapped against Leo's back as he forced himself upright, half slumping, half clinging to him for balance.
"Just—follow Vantim," he groaned, breath catching between words. Leo nodded and urged Bor onward, eyes locked on the hawk circling ahead like a burning star through the trees.
The forest broke open into a clearing — and there they were. Dan, a mountain of muscle with arms thick as oak branches, stood waiting beside a badger lycanthrope whose sharp, steady gaze cut through the chaos.
Leo's first instinct was to reach for his blade. Bor slowed, tense beneath him. More assassins? His fingers twitched toward the hilt.
"Dan—friend," Jake rasped before Leo could act, his voice barely holding.
In an instant, both figures were moving. Dan rushed forward, his heavy boots thudding against the earth, while the badger kept pace — fluid, precise. Leo eased his grip and swung down, helping guide Bor closer.
Dan reached Jake first, lifting him off of Bor with the care of someone cradling something fragile, not a man half his size. He eased him down against the grass, muttering a curse under his breath at the sight of blood pooling through the gauze.
The badger dropped to his knees beside them, his movements clean, practiced — a healer's touch. Without hesitation, he undid the gauze and pulled the arrow out with ease, not ripping more of Jake's flesh.
Jake's cry tore through the clearing, raw and guttural. His tail lashed against the dirt, his fingers digging in, but he didn't move away. The badger was already pressing gauze into the wound, his deft hands stained red within seconds.
"Hold him still," the badger ordered. Dan obeyed, one massive hand bracing Jake's shoulder, the other gripping his arm.
Jake's breathing came in ragged bursts — every inhale shallow, every exhale a growl of defiance. Blood soaked through the gauze, staining his side, but his molten eyes stayed open, fixed somewhere beyond the pain.
~~~~~
"My lady, we need to get you somewhere safe," a guard urged, his voice trembling as the forest swallowed Leo and Jake's fading silhouettes.
Elena didn't answer at first. Her amber eyes tracked the path he'd vanished down — the echo of hooves, the flicker of motion, gone. She drew in a slow, trembling breath, and when she exhaled, the warmth left her gaze. What replaced it was cold, sharp resolve.
Someone had tried to kill her today. They had failed. But in their failure, they had struck him — her wolf, her shadow, her forbidden heart. And for that, the fox would hunt.
She turned toward the guard, her stare cutting through him like a blade. He faltered, unable to meet her eyes. "Take me to my father," she said, her tone as calm as frost.
The guard nodded wordlessly, helping her into the saddle. She winced, her ribs aching where Jake had hit her, but she said nothing. He took the reins and spurred the horse forward. Behind them, four others formed a tight line, eyes flicking to every branch and shadow as they rode.
The forest closed around them, whispering secrets. Every creak of wood sounded like a drawn bowstring; every gust of wind carried the ghost of pursuit. Only when the trees began to thin did anyone dare to breathe.
At last, the gates of Altor came into view — towering stone washed in the pale glow of afternoon light. They broke from the woods and thundered across the fields. The golden plains blurred past, yet Elena saw none of it. Her thoughts were miles away, deep in the forest where her wolf had fallen.
The scent of his blood still clung to her. She could almost see his face beneath that mask, hear the rasp of his breath, the strain in his voice as he ordered her to stay down. The memory burned — fierce, unrelenting — and she pressed a trembling hand against her chest, as if she could hold it all in before it broke her.
They reached the southern gate. The guards shouted in confusion, scrambling to open the way as the riders approached. Civilians halted mid-step, eyes wide as whispers began to ripple through the crowd.
By the time Elena's horse passed under the stone archway of the Halas mansion, the first bell had begun to toll — deep, heavy, mournful.
The sound carried across Altor, and with it, the rumor spread like wildfire. An attack. Assassins in the woods.The heir to House Falmil — nearly taken.
From the palace spires to the market alleys, one name swept through the city like a storm.
The Fox of Falmil.
And though she rode silently and straight-backed through the gates, inside, her heart was breaking — not for herself, but for the wolf who had bled to keep her alive.