The rescue

Dahlia stumbled, but Sullivan's strong grip kept her upright.

"Did he… did he die?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"Yes," Sullivan replied, his tone firm but laced with urgency. "We need to move, Dahlia. Now."

She glanced at his bloodied arm, concern flickering in her eyes. "Your arm…"

"Later," he said, brushing it off. "We have to cross the border before others catch up."

Guiding her to the horse, Sullivan helped Dahlia into the saddle before climbing up behind her. "Hold onto me," she urged, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. With a swift tug on the reins, she spurred the horse forward, its hooves pounding against the earth as they raced away from danger.

"Are you sure of the way?" Dahlia asked, glancing over her shoulder at him.