The battles continued, each one more brutal than the last. The kingdom’s forces were relentless, and though the rebellion was growing, so too were the casualties. Friends were falling, one by one, and with each loss, Leon’s anger grew.

It was on a cold night, after a particularly bloody skirmish, that the first of their group was taken. Garrett had led them into a trap, a plan to take out a key supply route that had gone horribly wrong. By the time they realized their mistake, it was too late.

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Garrett, always the one to lead from the front, had been cut down trying to protect them. His death hit Leon harder than he had expected. Garrett had been more than just a comrade—he had been a mentor, someone who had shared in his pain and anger, someone who had given him hope that they could win this war.

Leon stood over Garrett’s body, his hands shaking with rage. “He didn’t deserve this.”

“No one does,” Elena said softly, placing a hand on his arm. “But we have to keep going. For him. For all of them.”

Leon clenched his fists, his mind racing. How many more would have to die before this war was over? How much longer could they keep fighting