The Stolen Heir’s Bond

Elaria's breath came sharp and fast.

Hunters.

They didn't wear the sigils of Lord Varos's men, but that didn't make them any less dangerous. Bounty hunters worked for coin, not loyalty. And if they were here, it meant someone had set a price on her head.

Or Kael's.

Either way, they were outnumbered.

The leader stepped forward, lowering his bow but not his guard. His face was obscured by a hood, but Elaria caught the gleam of a scar running down his cheek.

"Smart girl," he said, voice rough as gravel. "That would've taken his pretty head clean off."

Kael, still crouched in the snow, let out a low growl. "I'd love to see you try."

The hunter chuckled. "Bold words for a dead man." His gaze flicked to Elaria. "But we're not here for you, prince."

The cold in Elaria's veins deepened.

Kael stilled. His head turned toward her, slowly, as if piecing together something that hadn't made sense before.

The bounty wasn't on him.

It was on her.

Elaria clenched her fists. Of course. Of course someone had finally come looking. She had spent years running, slipping through villages, never staying long enough to be noticed. But magic was rare. And magic meant power.

Power that some would kill to control.

She forced herself to keep her voice steady. "Who sent you?"

The hunter smiled, slow and sharp. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Then he lifted his hand.

"Take her."

Everything happened at once.

Two men lunged forward. Kael was faster. He moved like a blade through the dark, his sword flashing as it caught the first hunter in the side, sending him sprawling.

Elaria ducked as another reached for her, twisting out of his grip. Magic burned hot in her blood, but she fought it down. She couldn't risk leaving a trail. Not yet.

A knife swiped at her ribs. She dodged, barely, her hood slipping as she rolled into the snow. A footstep—too close—she turned, hand raised—

The air around her pulsed.

The hunter's hand froze inches from her throat. His body locked in place, his eyes wide with terror as an unseen force held him still.

No.

Elaria hadn't meant to do it. The magic had answered on its own.

She swallowed hard, pulse hammering. If she let go, if she pushed just a little further—

She didn't get the chance.

A sharp pain seared her side.

She gasped. Looked down.

A dagger.

Blood seeped through her cloak, warm against the winter air.

Her focus wavered. The hunter she had trapped collapsed, gasping.

Then Kael was there, catching her before she could hit the ground.

"Enough," the leader snapped. "Stand down!"

Elaria fought to stay upright, her vision blurring. The remaining hunters hesitated, weapons still drawn, waiting for an order.

"Change of plans," the leader said, his gaze locked on Kael. "Bring them both."

Then, before she could protest, something struck the back of her skull.

The world tilted.

And everything went black.