One question remained, unspoken but burning bright in my mind – what about Caleb? Was he truly one of us, or had he played a part in the king's purge? The flicker of doubt, once a small ember, now roared into a raging inferno.

Just an hour ago, Caleb stood beside the king, his face an emotionless mask. How could he have been a firebrand at Falcata, a kindred spirit yearning for change, and now be the king's loyal guard? Confusion warred with a newfound understanding as I looked at Erin, whose tear-streaked face held a silent answer.

Without needing words, I understood. Erin wasn't just a survivor of the resistance at Falcata, she was the one who had taken action. A slow realization dawned, replacing the suspicion with a chilling certainty.

Erin, her voice barely a rasp, spoke, confirming my suspicions.

"A few weeks ago, when I left after our argument, I went to the castle. I suspected...the king wouldn't die, but he could be neutralized. Paralyzed, perhaps. Kept away from the prisoners he controls." She paused, her gaze flickering to the window as if reliving the scene. "Wolfsbane. It weakens the muscles, renders them useless. I laced an arrow with it."

Erin's voice, though a whisper, echoed in the room, heavy with the weight of her decision. The assassin. The one who tried to cripple the very man Caleb now served. A wolfsbane arrow. That must have been the gift the king was talking about. The revelation slammed into me, a cold fist around my heart.

Suddenly, the tangled web of Caleb's actions began to unravel, and a horrifying possibility emerged.

"You," I breathed, the word hanging heavy in the air. The pieces were clicking into place with a horrifying clarity. Erin, her face etched with a mixture of grief and determination, simply nodded.

"I fled after seeing what the poison did," she continued, her voice barely a whisper. "I needed to get back to you, to report what happened. But..." She trailed off, her eyes taking on a distant look. "I found him outside the castle walls. Caleb."

A chill ran down my spine. "Caleb?" I echoed, the confusion battling with a growing sense of dread.

"The guards were dragging him out of the dungeons. He was weak, barely conscious. The poison..." Erin choked on the words, her hand flying to her mouth. "He must have gone to check on the prisoners, the ones bonded to the king. He was affected too."

The revelation hit me like a physical blow. Caleb, bound to the king by the same cruel magic that held the prisoners captive. The assassin and the king's loyal guard – connected by a poisoned arrow and a shared fate.

"That's when I knew," Erin said, her voice a mere tremor. "He was trapped. Bound to him."

Her eyes met mine, a desperate plea for understanding flickering within them.

The air crackled with a tension as thick as the smoke curling from the fireplace. Erin's revelation hung heavy, the weight of it settling on my shoulders like a leaden cloak. Caleb, the rebel leader, her partner in crime, her twin flame – bound to the very king he once dreamt of overthrowing.

"He told me then, after he woke up," Erin rasped, her voice barely audible. "After the first…executions." A shudder wracked her, the memory raw and painful. "He went to the king, a desperate plea. Offered himself as a spy, an informant, in exchange for his friends' lives."

My blood ran cold. A spy? Caleb, the rebel, reduced to stooping to the king's level? Yet, a sliver of understanding flickered through the confusion. Desperation could breed strange choices, especially when faced with the brutal murder of friends.

"The king…agreed?" I managed, my voice a hoarse whisper.

Erin nodded, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. "He saw Caleb's potential. A rebel turned loyalist, a fly buzzing close to the heart of the resistance. Valuable intel, the king must have thought."

A bitter taste filled my mouth. Used, manipulated. Caleb's rebellion twisted into a distorted loyalty, a leash held tight by the king. The anger that simmered within me threatened to boil over.

"But why serve the king now?" I pressed, my voice laced with a sharp edge. "His friends are dead. What does the king hold over him now?"

Erin shook her head, her eyes filled with a deep sadness. "He has us now. He thinks he can still work from within, find a way to sever the bond, to free himself and maybe find a way to dismantle the king's control from the inside."

A spark of hope ignited within me, a fragile ember amongst the ashes of despair. Could it be true? Was Caleb playing a long game, a desperate gamble to topple the very system that held him captive?

But doubt gnawed at the edges of hope. Was Erin naive, clinging to a shred of possibility in the face of a harsh reality? Only time, and perhaps Caleb himself, would reveal the truth behind his allegiance.

The silence stretched, thick with the weight of Caleb's burden. Anger simmered within me, but it was quickly replaced by a deep empathy for the impossible choice he'd been forced to make.

"Why didn't you tell us, Erin?" I finally asked, my voice softer now, laced with understanding. "Why keep Caleb's secret all this time?"

Erin met my gaze, a well of unshed tears glistening in her eyes. "Because I promised him," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "He was terrified. Terrified of how everyone would react, how you'd see him. He thought you'd hate him, cast him out for becoming the king's dog."

Hate. The word hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Did I hate him? The very thought sent a jolt through me. Hate was a simple emotion, easy to understand. But what I felt for Caleb right now was a tangled mess of anger, betrayal, and a sickening sense of violation.

He'd been forced, yes. But the information he'd revealed, even under duress, had given the king a glimpse into our world, our plans, even our most intimate moments. Moments I'd shared with Caleb, moments I'd thought were safe, a refuge from the harsh realities of our lives. Now, they were tainted, poisoned by the knowledge that the king had been a silent observer.

Tears pricked at my eyes, blurring the scene before me. The king's amusement, Caleb’s anguish, Erin’s crumpled form on the floor – it all swam into a distorted image of despair. We were trapped, pawns in a twisted game orchestrated by a madman. And the worst part? I wasn't even sure who the real enemy was anymore.

Erin shook her head. "He wasn't just forced to serve the king. He had to become him, at least on the surface. He had to earn the king's trust, become his confidante. Every action, every word, a carefully crafted performance."

The image of Caleb, his face an emotionless mask, flashed in my mind. Now, I saw it not as loyalty, but as a carefully constructed disguise.

"So that's why he was so against attacking the castle, about killing the king head on," I murmured, the pieces finally clicking into place.

Erin nodded, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "He was protecting the prisoners, yes, but he was also protecting his cover. One wrong move, and the king's wrath could fall on not just him, but all of us."

Memories flooded back, vivid and undeniable. The way Caleb had subtly steered us away from attacking the castle, protecting the prisoners bonded to the king. And most importantly, the way he tackled the king, a desperate act that bought us precious seconds to escape.

"He saved us," I whispered, the realization dawning like a sunrise. "He took a risk, exposed his cover, to give us a chance." A cold dread settled in my stomach, a dreadful realization twisting my insides. "And now..."

Erin finished my unspoken thought, her voice trembling. "Now he's probably being tortured, maybe even executed for his defiance."

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. "If the wolfsbane hasn't killed him already."

The image of Caleb, broken and at the king's mercy, sent a shiver down my spine. It was a horrifying image, one I desperately tried to push away. But it clung to me like a shadow, a constant reminder of the impossible choice I'd made.

The wolfsbane. A tactical advantage, I'd told myself. A way to even the odds, to give us a fighting chance. But now, it felt more like a curse, a double-edged sword that had left Caleb paralyzed and at the king's mercy.

Shame and anger warred within me. Shame for abandoning him, for prioritizing the mission over his life. Anger that the king, this twisted mockery of a ruler, would stoop to such cruelty.

But beneath the swirling emotions, a sliver of determination remained. Caleb's sacrifice, his desperate gamble, wouldn't be in vain. I wouldn't let it be.

We couldn’t just sit there.

Caleb wasn't just a friend, he was our leader, my confidant, the man whose steely gaze could melt away my fiercest resolve. He was the one who held me close under the starry sky, his vulnerability a stark contrast to his stoic demeanor. He was the one who whispered secrets in the dead of night, secrets echoed in the stolen touches, the lingering glances, the kisses hidden beneath the cloak of rebellion.

But those whispers, were they ever real? Was the warmth in his eyes just a trick of the light? Did he betray us all, or just me? Was he a wolf in borrowed clothing, playing us like naive rabbits?

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. A Rabbit. That's what I used to be. Naive, trusting, easily manipulated. But not anymore. He may have played me, but in that game, he changed me too. He awakened a fire in my soul, a fierceness I never knew I possessed. He may have turned traitor, but he turned me into a wolf as well.

A wolf who wouldn't back down. A wolf who would hunt him down, find the truth, and fight for what's right. This rebellion might be on its knees, but I wouldn't stay there. He may have underestimated the rabbit, but he'd made a grave mistake underestimating the wolf.

"We have to get him out," I declared, my voice firm with conviction.

Erin blinked, surprised by my sudden change of heart.

A choked gasp drew my attention away from her. Kass, her eyes wide with surprise, stammered, "Get him out? Kira, are you insane? We can't just trust his word after everything!"

A spark ignited in Erin's eyes, mirroring my own. "Kira’s right," she agreed, her voice regaining its strength. "We may not know what his plan is, but I know one thing for sure – Caleb is still on our side. It's time we returned the favor."

From across the room, I saw Finn adjust his eye patch, his gaze flicking to me as he rubbed his thumb over the worn leather. There was a weariness in his posture, an exhaustion that had become more apparent in the past few days.

"I’ve had enough of fighting for a while," Finn muttered, his voice rough. "I’m tired, Kira. But… I’ll do it for Caleb. If Erin says he’s still on our side, I’ll follow her lead." He paused, his scarred face set in grim determination. "Caleb... He’s one of us. And if we don’t do something now, we might not get another chance."

Isaac didn’t look up from where he sat by Elyse, his fingers absentmindedly stroking her white hair as she lay unconscious, her breath shallow. He was quiet, lost in thought, his body tense, his face unreadable.

"You’re asking me to go back there…" Isaac’s voice was soft, but the weight of his words hit hard. He finally lifted his gaze to meet mine, his eyes dark with unspoken emotion. "I’d rather do anything else than step foot in that castle again."

He clenched his fists around his knees, as if the mere thought of returning to the keep was a physical pain. "But I won’t let Caleb rot in that place, either. We all know what the king does to those who refuse to bend. I won’t let him break Caleb."

A heavy silence settled over the room, the air thick with tension. I knew Isaac would never speak those words lightly. He'd always been the one who'd prefer to stay in the shadows, avoid the bloodshed, the pain—but Caleb had been his comrade, his friend. And Isaac's loyalty ran deeper than he'd ever let on.

Kilian, who had been listening in silence, finally spoke up. "You don’t have to go alone, Kira. I know the castle, and I know how to move unseen. If we’re going to get him out, we’ll need to do it quietly. Every step has to be precise." He glanced at the others, his expression grim. "We’ll need everyone. No one can afford to hold back."

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

I knew Caleb. Knew the fire that burned in his soul, the unwavering determination that had become the bedrock of our rebellion.

He wouldn't break. Not under torture, not under threats. He'd endure, his spirit as unyielding as the trees that cradled our hidden refuge. He'd fight for us, for the rebellion, for the dream of a free Cyrennia.

Kilian’s offer to help, so selflessly given, struck me with a deeper weight than I expected. He had been through so much, had spent so many years in the shadow of the king’s cruelty, and yet he was offering to put himself in even greater danger for me. For us.

I had always known my brother was capable—intelligent, resourceful, and skilled with his hands—but seeing him so firmly stand behind me, ready to risk his safety to help free Caleb, someone he didn’t even know, made something shift inside me. It wasn’t just about family loyalty anymore. This was something bigger. Something we were both fighting for.

"Thanks, Kilian," I said quietly, my voice softer than it had been in a long time. "I didn’t think… I didn’t realize how much you'd been willing to sacrifice for us all."

His eyes softened for a moment before he gave a small, tired smile. "You never had to ask, Kira. You’re my sister. And you’re not alone in this fight."

But as much as I appreciated his help, as much as I wanted to jump into action, something inside me was pulling me back. The reality of our situation began to weigh more heavily on me the longer I thought about it. Yes, Caleb needed our help, but there was something else we couldn’t afford to ignore.

"We’ll get him out," I said, but the words felt heavy with the knowledge of what we faced. "But we need to lay low for now. We can’t just storm in and expect it all to go smoothly."

Erin, who had been listening intently, nodded in agreement. "We have to stay hidden. Elyse needs time to heal, and we can't risk the soldiers finding us before we're ready. They've already seen our faces."

The thought of it hit me hard. We weren’t nameless ghosts anymore. No longer were we just whispers in the wind, hidden beneath the cover of anonymity. Our faces—our names—would be everywhere. The king would ensure that. There would be wanted posters. There would be bounties. We were no longer the quiet resistance fighting from the shadows. We were the rebels the king feared, and that made us targets.

I turned away slightly, looking out the window where the night stretched out, empty and full of potential danger. The silence in the room felt heavy, but it was the truth we had to face. We had to keep our heads down. Elyse needed time to recover. We needed to let the soldiers’ search burn itself out. We needed to let the storm pass before we made our next move.

"We’ll hide here until Elyse can get back on her feet," I continued, my voice steady but tinged with the weight of what it meant. "We’ll wait until the soldiers stop looking for us. We can’t risk being caught now. Not when we’re this close."

The room was quiet for a moment, the air thick with the understanding that this was just the calm before the storm. We weren’t done. Not by a long shot. But we had to be smart.

I met Erin’s eyes, then Finn’s, and finally Isaac’s, who still looked pained, but now there was something else in his gaze—something resolute. We were a family now, bound by more than just blood. We had been through too much to fail, and we knew we had to be patient. We would strike when the time was right.

Kilian gave me a small nod. "We’ll wait. But when the time comes, we’ll move fast. The king won’t see us coming."

I smiled grimly, grateful for his resolve. "That’s the plan."

Kilian stood, the flickering firelight casting long shadows against the stone walls. His expression was tense, his lips pressed into a thin line. The weight of what he was about to say seemed to bear down on his shoulders.

"I’ve been holding onto something," Kilian began, his voice steady but low. His eyes swept over the group—Erin, Kass, Finn, Isaac, Elyse, and me—lingering on each of us as if gauging whether we were ready to hear what he had to say. "Something that could change everything."

Erin leaned forward, her arms crossed, her expression skeptical but curious. "What kind of ‘something’? Because if this is more cryptic royal secrets, Kilian, I’m not in the mood."

Kilian gave her a faint smirk, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. "No riddles. Just facts." He took a deep breath, his fists clenching at his sides. "While I was working in the royal library, I stumbled on something hidden—deliberately hidden. The midwife’s records."

Kass frowned, her brow furrowing. "Midwife’s records? What are you talking about?"

Kilian hesitated, glancing toward me as if seeking permission to continue. I nodded, urging him on.

"Queen Isabella," he said, his voice dropping into a quieter, more reverent tone, "fell pregnant right before Alaric killed King Gregor. And she gave birth shortly before she died."

The room went still. It was as if all the air had been sucked out of it.

"What?" Erin said sharply, sitting up straighter. "She had a child?"

"That’s impossible," I said, shaking my head. "There’s no record of that. We all know the story—she died childless."

"That’s what we were made to believe," Kilian countered, his voice growing firmer. "But the records say otherwise. She had a daughter. They said she miscarried to cover it up, but there’s no death certificate. No burial record. Nothing."

Finn whistled low, leaning back against the wall. "You’re telling us there’s a royal heir out there? A princess? Just hidden away all this time?"

"Yes," Kilian said, his tone resolute. "The child must have been hidden to protect her. She would’ve been a threat to Alaric, the true heir to the throne."

Isaac, who had been stroking Elyse’s hair absentmindedly, froze. His brow furrowed as he glanced up at Kilian. "And you’re sure about this? There’s no chance it’s just... a mistake in the records?"

Kilian shook his head. "I double-checked. Triple-checked. Everything lines up. The records stop abruptly, as if someone wanted to erase her existence."

"And you think she’s still alive?" Erin asked, her tone sharp but her eyes glinting with the first spark of hope. "After all this time?"

Kilian’s gaze turned intense. "I know she’s alive. They wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to hide her if she weren’t. She’s out there, living under a different name, probably in complete secrecy. Turns out, the royal bloodline is capable of powerful magic." Kilian said, his voice tinged with urgency.

There was a moment of silence, and then, as if he had more to say, Kilian turned to me directly. "I found out about the royal bloodline’s power from… the Gardener’s Almanac."

I could feel the confusion ripple through the room. Finn’s voice broke the silence, sharp with disbelief. "The Gardener’s Almanac?" he asked, his tone a mix of amusement and genuine curiosity. "You found royal bloodline secrets in a gardening book?"

Kilian looked at him with a mischievous gleam in his eye, and then he winked at me. "Ah, it’s an inside joke," he said, his voice light, teasing.

"It’s a long story," I said, glancing at the others.

Kass raised an eyebrow, looking between Kilian and me, then rolled her eyes. "You two are something else."

"The magic is said to be so potent that the royals are protected by divine forces. They can heal, manipulate, even influence the world around them in ways we can’t begin to understand," Kilian continued. "It’s the reason they’ve stayed in power for so long. Alaric didn’t just want Gregor’s throne. He wanted his wife, too. Queen Isabella wasn’t just a political tool. She had the same magic flowing through her. The same potential for power. He wanted to create his own legacy, one even stronger than Gregor’s. If he could control that bloodline, he could control everything."

The room grew heavier as Kilian's words sunk in. The fire crackled in the hearth, its warmth clashing with the chill of the truth. I could see the disgust flash across everyone’s face as they processed what Kilian had just laid bare.

Erin's jaw tightened, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

Kass, never one to hold back, broke the silence. "So, what, he was that desperate for an heir? Did he...?"

There was a pause—an uncomfortable stillness—before Kilian finally nodded.

"Yes. He most likely did. But Isabella was already pregnant with Gregor's child by the time Alaric made his move, so his... efforts were in vain." Kilian’s eyes locked with mine for a brief moment before he continued. "But Alaric didn’t know that. He thought the queen was carrying his child. Thought he'd finally get what he wanted—control of the throne, control of everything."

A low murmur of revulsion swept through the room. I could feel the anger simmering, the injustice of it all. But it was Kass who spoke first.

"That bastard," she muttered under her breath. "I can't believe he—"

Kilian held up a hand, stopping her before the anger could fully take hold. "I know. But Isabella was smart. She knew what he was capable of. So, she did what she had to do to protect her child—and the kingdoms." He paused, as if weighing how much to say next. "She was protected during her pregnancy, had the best doctors, the most loyal maids. It made it easier for her to hide the child away, to fake the miscarriage. Alaric never knew."

He paused, his expression distant, as if recalling memories too heavy to bear. I saw the faintest tremble in his hand before he brought it to his face, wiping at his nose. At first, I thought it was just an idle gesture, but then I saw the red streak on his sleeve.

Blood.

"Kilian,” I said sharply, stepping closer. "You’re bleeding again.”

He looked down at his hand, confusion flickering across his face as he realized his nose was indeed bleeding.

Kass frowned, her sharp eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms. "That’s the second time,” she pointed out, her voice firm. "You should really get that looked at.”

Kilian offered a small, forced smile. "I’ll be fine, Kass. Probably just the dry air or something.” Then his voice dropped, barely a whisper now. "Isabella didn't survive long after. The queen took her life to make sure Alaric couldn't try for another heir. She died to stop him from gaining more power. If he had an heir, he would've not only taken Cyrennia, but he would have conquered the other kingdoms too."

The air in the room felt thick with the heaviness of Kilian's words. It was a sobering reality, one that painted Alaric as not just a cruel monarch, but a desperate, broken man clinging to a hope that had long since slipped through his fingers.

"That's why he's so desperate now," Erin said. "He clings to his immortality, drains the life of others, because without an heir, his power is nothing. If he doesn’t have that bloodline, he’s nothing. It’s all he’s ever wanted."

The tension in the room was palpable, like a storm brewing just beyond the horizon. I glanced at my friends, at the faces of those who had been with me through so much already. There was anger in their eyes, but there was something else too—understanding. We knew what Alaric had done, and now we knew the desperation that drove him.

But that also meant we knew how to strike.

"If we find the queen's daughter," Kilian said, his voice firm with renewed purpose, "we don’t just get a potential ally—we get the key to Alaric’s destruction. He’s had decades to try to fill the void, and all he’s done is become more dangerous, more ruthless. But that’s because he’s been hunting the wrong thing all along. He’s been hunting rebels. And we’re about to give him the one thing he never expected."

Kilian paused. "The child Isabella carried. She would’ve been born with the same power. More, perhaps. If we find her, we’ll have a force at our disposal unlike anything we’ve ever seen. She can rally the people, not just with the sword, but with the magic that can tear down Alaric’s kingdom from the inside out. She could turn the tide of this entire war."

"And fight him on his level," Erin finished, her voice low and filled with realization.

"Yes," Kilian confirmed. "She’s the one who can unite the rebellion. She’s the one who can take Alaric down."

The group exchanged uneasy glances, the magnitude of Kilian’s revelation sinking in.

"Do you have any idea where she might be?" Kass asked, her tone skeptical but tinged with curiosity.

"No," Kilian admitted. "Not yet. But we can find her. We have to. She’s our best chance at turning the tide."

The room remained heavy with Kilian’s revelation, the implications of his discovery weighing on everyone. Finn broke the silence first, leaning forward with a skeptical look on his face. "Okay, so let’s say we buy into this—hidden princess, magical blood, rallying the kingdom, all of it. How in the hell are we supposed to find her? What do we even look for? A royal crest tattooed on her forehead?”

Kilian gave him a dry look but didn’t rise to the bait. "The records say her name was Evangeline. But let’s be realistic—if they went through all the trouble of hiding her, they wouldn’t keep that name. She’d be living under a secret identity.”

"Fantastic,” Kass muttered, crossing her arms. "So, we’re looking for a girl with a fake name who has no idea she’s royalty. That narrows it down.”

"Actually,” Kilian interrupted, "we have more than just a name. We know what she would probably look like.”

Finn raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You’ve got a royal portrait stashed in that brain of yours?”

"Not exactly,” Kilian replied, ignoring the jab. "But she’d look like her parents. Queen Isabella was blonde with striking blue eyes, and King Gregor wasn’t much different. The royal bloodline is strong. It’s safe to assume she inherited those features.”

Isaac raised an eyebrow, his voice calm but pointed. "You’re betting on genetics? There are a lot of blonde, blue-eyed girls in Cyrennia, Kilian. Half the nobles could fit that description.”

Isaac, still sitting quietly with Elyse’s head resting on his lap, spoke again. "If she was hidden, who would’ve done it?” His voice was soft, almost hesitant. "You can’t just hide a royal child without help. Someone close to the family must have taken her.”

Kilian nodded. "Exactly. Whoever hid her would’ve been someone the royal family trusted completely—probably someone with the resources to keep her safe and the loyalty to keep the secret, even now. A noble family, perhaps, or a trusted servant.”

"Or,” Kass said, her voice laced with sarcasm, "someone who had a death wish. Hiding the princess would’ve been treason. Alaric would’ve killed them without a second thought.”

"Which means they would’ve been clever about it,” Kilian said, undeterred. "And loyal. They wouldn’t have left her unprotected. Wherever she is, she’s alive because someone sacrificed everything to make sure of it.”

"That’s what we need to figure out,” Kilian said, his voice steady. "If she’s still alive, and I believe she is, she would have been raised to keep her head down. Whoever took her in would have made sure she was hidden.”

"And you think she’d even want to help us?” Kass asked, her tone sharp but tinged with doubt. "If she’s been in hiding all this time, she might not even know who she is, let alone want to march into the middle of a rebellion.”

"She might not,” Kilian admitted, his gaze firm. "But that’s not a reason not to try. If we find her, if we explain what’s at stake—she has the right to decide for herself.”

Erin nodded, her expression thoughtful. "We’ll have to ask questions quietly. Start with anyone who might’ve been close to the queen before she died. Nurses, retainers, trusted nobles. Someone out there knows the truth.”

"It’s not a lot to go on,” Finn said, leaning back with a sigh. "Blonde, blue-eyed, probably raised by a loyalist. Sounds like half the country.”

"It’s enough,” I said firmly, drawing their eyes to me. "We’ve had less to go on before, and we’ve made it work.”

The room fell into silence again, the weight of the task ahead pressing on all of us. Kilian’s eyes met mine, and I saw the same determination burning in his gaze that I felt in my own.

"She’s out there,” he said quietly, but with conviction. "And we’ll find her. We have to.”

"And what if we can’t find her?" Kass asked, her voice tinged with doubt. "What then?"

"We will," Kilian said firmly. "Because we have to. She’s the only one who can truly end this. We can keep fighting battles, but she’s the one who can win the war."

The room was silent, the crackle of the fire the only sound as the weight of Kilian’s words hung over us. One by one, faces turned to me, waiting for the final word.

I took a deep breath, feeling the enormity of the decision settle on my shoulders. "We’ll find her," I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging in my chest. "We’ll find her, and we’ll bring her back. Because if she’s the key to taking Alaric down, then we can’t afford to fail."

The group nodded, each one silently committing to the mission ahead. As the firelight danced in their eyes, I felt the first flicker of something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Hope.

"We’ll find her," I said, my voice resolute. "We’ll bring her home."

Kilian’s eyes met mine, a quiet understanding passing between us. It wasn’t just about freeing Caleb anymore. It was about reclaiming what was rightfully ours—what was rightfully hers.

And when we did, we would finally have the power to change everything.

We had faced the worst, and we were still standing. The rebellion wasn’t finished yet. Not by a long shot. We would find Caleb. We would fight. The embers of defiance had been fanned, and they would not be extinguished.