"Co on... co on..."
Erald’s wrists burned like fire as she fought against the ropes, the wolfsbane digging deeper into her skin with every frantic movent. Her hands were sweaty, her breath ragged, lungs filling with smoke instead of air.
The flas had spread halfway through the cabin. She could hear the crackling and hissing of the burning wood, and the heat felt harsh against her skin, like it was trying to reach out and grab her.
"Viola!" she cried in her mind.
She coughed, doubling over from the pain that rocked through her chest. Her fingers finally loosened a knot... barely, but it was enough.
With a gasp, she pulled one hand free, then the other, ignoring the scream of her flesh.
The wolfsbane had numbed her link to Viola almost completely. She couldn’t shift, couldn’t draw on her strength. Now, she was just... a regular human, vulnerable and trapped.
And the fire was closing in.
Erald struggled to push herself up to her knees, her eyes filled with tears caused by the smoke, making it hard to see.
The cabin door was on fire, with bright orange flas climbing up and consuming it. The heat was intense, and the floor felt so hot that it was unbearable to walk on.
She stumbled forward anyway, crawling low to avoid the thick black smoke curling along the ceiling.
Her throat burned.
"Help..." she croaked, barely audible. Her hand scraped across a scorched floorboard, then gave out. Her limbs wouldn’t move anymore.
Her vision blurred, sweat trickling down her temples as she collapsed beside the door. "Talia’s not even creative," she muttered to herself, despite her situation. "Sa trick... twice."
The fire hissed in response.
Her eyes fluttered, the smoke stealing the rest of her consciousness.
’This ti,’ she thought, her heartbeat slowing, ’I don’t think I’m making it out. Lucien... please...’
Just when her thoughts began to fade completely, the door exploded inward with a thunderous crash, throwing cinders and sparks into the air.
A windstorm rushed into the room, fanning the flas briefly before suffocating them back.
Through the haze, Erald caught a glimpse of a silhouette.
The mont her head dropped back down, strong arms lifted her up, and she blacked out before she could say a word.
—
Erald awoke monts—or maybe minutes—later with a violent gasp, her body jerking upright as she coughed.
Cool air t her skin.
No smoke.
No fire.
Just trees and the faint scent of pine.
Erald woke up monts later with a violent gasp, taking a sharp breath as her body shot upright. She coughed, trying to clear her throat.
The cool air brushed against her skin, and she noticed there was no smoke, no fire... just the tall trees around her and a subtle sll of pine in the air.
She sat up sharply, hacking the last of the smoke from her lungs. Her entire body ached like she’d been trampled by a stampede. Her skin was covered in soot and sweat, her clothes singed and torn.
She blinked rapidly, taking in the quiet of the surrounding woods. The sun was rising, glinting off the misty leaves, but her vision was still foggy.
Then she heard his voice. "About ti."
She turned her head slowly, her eyes landing on Ares.
He sat nearby, arms resting on his knees, his shirt burned along the sleeves and shoulder, revealing raw skin that wasn’t healing fast enough for a creature like him.
He looked... tired.
Erald’s voice was raw. "You again."
Ares gave her a half-smile. "At so point, you’re going to have to admit I have good timing."
She stared at him. "Do you... just sit around in trees waiting for to almost die?"
Ares shrugged. "Only when I’m bored."
She winced as she tried to sit straighter, pain flaring in her wrists. Her skin was blotchy and red where the wolfsbane had touched her. "You’re hurt," she said quietly, glancing at his arm.
He didn’t even look at it. "You’re the one lting on the floor five minutes ago. I’m fine."
She frowned. "You’re not healing."
"I told you before," he murmured. "You make ... weaker."
Her brows furrowed. "Still?"
"It’s sothing subconscious," he muttered. "I haven’t figured it out yet. When I’m around you, I don’t regenerate the way I should. My magic slows down."
Erald stared at him, stunned.
"And yet, here you are... again." Her voice was soft.
"I’m not leaving you," Ares said.
Erald looked away, and the guilt settled in her chest. But only for a mont, because Lucien’s face flashed in her mind. "I can’t stay here."
He sighed. "Of course not."
She turned toward him. "Lucien’s still out there... alone with Talia and her traitors crawling through the estate. He has no idea what she’s planning."
Ares stood, brushing soot off his trousers. "Not so fast."
She stood up too fast, wobbling on her legs. "I have to go back."
"Whoa, what the hell do you think you’re doing?" Ares grabbed her arm. "Sit back down."
"I’m fine..."
"You almost died," he said calmly. "And now you’re running right back into the fire?"
"Yes."
He stared at her. "You were supposed to have left Midnight Fang days ago. You’re not part of this. You don’t owe Lucien anything."
Erald narrowed her eyes. "You an the sa way I didn’t owe you anything, and yet you’ve been following from estate to estate? Always showing up when I’m about to be turned into roadkill or barbecue?"
"That’s different," he muttered.
She folded her arms. "How?"
"Because you’re mine."
Erald blinked.
Ares looked mildly annoyed with himself for even saying it. "You’re mine. And I don’t like when people try to take what’s mine."
She rolled her eyes. "You’re possessive."
He smirked. "You’re alive."
"Don’t try to change the subject."
"You already have soot on your cheeks. You’re in no shape to fight."
"I’m going back," she said, stepping toward the path. "Try to stop ."
Ares let out a long, tired sigh and raised his hands in surrender. "Fine. But I’m coming with you."
Erald arched a brow. "You sure? I thought I was weakening you."
"I’ll take my chances," he muttered, following her. "Besides, I think you’ll need the backup."
Erald’s lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile breaking through the pain and the fear. "Just don’t slow down," she teased.
"I should’ve left you in the fire."
She glanced over her shoulder as they moved through the trees, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thanks for not letting burn."
Ares didn’t look at her. "Try not to make a habit of needing ."
"Try not to make a habit of caring."
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