chapter 9:-Whispers in the Dark

The camp was restless that night.

Kael and Elara sat near the edge, away from the others but close enough to observe. The rebels were uneasy, shifting in their routines, throwing glances over their shoulders. The air was thick with distrust.

Elara leaned in. "Do you think Dain's plan will work?"

Kael's gaze was fixed on the firelight flickering between the tents. "If the traitor thinks they're about to be discovered, they'll make a mistake."

Elara frowned. "And if they don't?"

Kael's jaw tightened. "Then we'll draw them out another way."

Before she could ask what he meant, a voice interrupted them.

"Not used to seeing outsiders last this long."

Elara turned to see a woman approaching. She was lean, her short, dark hair pulled back, her eyes sharp with curiosity. She crouched beside them, resting her arms on her knees.

"Name's Lys," she said, offering a half-smile. "I've been with the rebels for years. You're stirring up quite a mess."

Kael eyed her warily. "You don't believe there's a traitor?"

Lys shrugged. "Doesn't matter what I believe. What matters is that everyone believes it now." She smirked. "And that makes people unpredictable."

Elara studied her. "You don't seem worried."

Lys chuckled. "I don't let fear make my decisions for me. Unlike some people."

She nodded toward the other rebels. Some sat by the fire, but others hovered near the edges of the camp, hands close to their weapons.

Kael followed her gaze. "You think someone will act tonight?"

Lys' smirk faded. "If I were a traitor, I wouldn't wait around to be found out."

Elara felt a chill crawl down her spine.

Something was going to happen tonight.

She could feel it.

The attack came just before dawn.

Elara woke to the sound of movement—a rustling in the dark, too deliberate to be the wind.

She reached for her dagger just as a figure darted past her tent.

Her pulse spiked.

She turned sharply. "Kael—"

But he was already up, sword in hand, eyes locked on the moving shadow.

They followed, moving quickly but silently through the camp. The figure was heading toward the supply tents—the ones that held weapons and food.

Elara's breath caught as she realized—

They weren't just running.

They were sabotaging.

Kael surged forward, grabbing the figure just as they reached the supply crates. There was a brief struggle, but Kael was stronger. He slammed the attacker against a tree, his sword pressed against their throat.

The firelight flickered, revealing the traitor's face.

Elara's stomach twisted.

It was one of the rebels—a younger man, no older than twenty. His eyes were wild with fear, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Dain and the other rebels arrived moments later, weapons drawn.

Dain's eyes narrowed. "Well, well. Looks like we caught our rat."

The young rebel trembled, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Dain stepped closer. "Who sent you?"

The man remained silent.

Kael's grip tightened. "Answer him."

Still, the traitor said nothing. But his eyes darted toward the forest—just for a second.

It was enough.

Kael turned sharply. "He's not working alone."

A distant horn sounded.

The rebels stiffened.

Then—

The night erupted into chaos.

The first wave of soldiers crashed into the camp like a storm, their armor glinting in the firelight.

The rebels barely had time to react before the first arrows flew.

Elara ducked as a soldier lunged at her, barely managing to dodge the blow. She scrambled backward, heart hammering.

Kael was already fighting, his sword flashing as he cut down the nearest enemy.

Dain shouted orders, rallying the rebels, but the king's forces had the advantage of surprise.

Elara's fingers tightened around her dagger. She had trained with Kael, but she had never fought like this—never fought to survive.

A soldier spotted her hesitating and charged.

Elara forced herself to move. She sidestepped at the last second, her dagger finding its mark in the man's side.

He gasped, eyes wide, before collapsing.

She barely had time to register what she had done before another attacker came at her.

Then—Kael was there.

His sword cut through the soldier in one swift movement, his expression unreadable.

"We need to get out of here," he said, voice urgent.

Elara barely nodded before he grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the forest.

The camp was burning behind them.

The rebels were scattered.

And the king's forces were hunting them down.

The forest swallowed them whole.

Elara ran, her breath ragged, her legs burning with exhaustion. The scent of smoke clung to her clothes, a bitter reminder of the camp they had left behind. Behind her, Kael moved like a shadow, his grip firm around her wrist as he led her deeper into the woods.

The king's soldiers were still behind them.

Somewhere in the distance, the clash of steel rang out, followed by the desperate cries of rebels fighting for their lives. The battle had broken apart the camp, scattering them into the wilderness like hunted prey.

Elara's chest ached—not just from running, but from something deeper, something clawing at the edges of her mind.

They had trusted those men. Fought beside them.

And yet, one of them had betrayed them all.

Kael suddenly yanked her to the side, pulling her behind the thick trunk of an ancient oak. He pressed a finger to his lips. Listen.

Elara forced herself to steady her breathing.

Voices drifted through the trees.

"They went this way," a soldier muttered. "Find them."

Elara's fingers tightened around the hilt of her dagger. If they were caught now, there would be no mercy.

Kael's grip on her wrist loosened, and for a moment, she thought he was going to let her go. Instead, he reached up, fingers brushing the curve of her jaw, his eyes searching hers.

"You trust me?" he whispered.

Elara hesitated.

Not because she doubted him—never him—but because trust had cost them everything tonight.

Still, she nodded.

Kael exhaled, then pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her in a protective hold. Elara barely had time to react before he pressed his back against the tree, shielding her with his body.

A heartbeat later, the soldiers passed by, their torches flickering in the darkness.

Elara didn't breathe.

Didn't move.

She could feel Kael's heartbeat beneath her fingertips, steady and strong. His breath was warm against her temple, the scent of sweat and blood clinging to his skin.

They stayed like that until the voices faded.

Only then did Kael step back. His hands lingered on her arms for a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

"They'll be back," he murmured.

Elara swallowed hard. "Then we keep moving."

They walked in silence, the only sounds their quiet footsteps against the damp earth.

The further they got from the wreckage of the camp, the heavier the weight in Elara's chest became. It wasn't just fear, or exhaustion, or even the lingering adrenaline still thrumming through her veins.

It was something else.

Something she didn't have a name for.

"I should have seen it," she whispered.

Kael slowed his pace but didn't look at her. "Seen what?"

"The betrayal." She wrapped her arms around herself. "We trusted them. We fought beside them. And yet—" Her voice wavered. "I didn't see it coming."

Kael was silent for a long moment. Then, softly, he said, "Neither did I."

Elara turned to him, searching his face. There was something raw in his expression, something unspoken.

She realized, then, that this wasn't just about the rebels.

It was about the kingdom.

About everything they had been taught. About the lies woven into their pasts.

Kael had once been one of the king's knights—loyal, unwavering. And now he was a fugitive, running from the very people he once called allies.

How many betrayals had he endured before this?

Elara reached for his hand before she could think twice.

Kael tensed at the touch, but he didn't pull away.

"We can't change what's already happened," she murmured. "But we can decide what we do next."

Kael exhaled, his fingers tightening around hers for a brief moment before he let go.

"You're right." His voice was steadier now, more certain. "But first, we need to survive."

By the time they stopped to rest, dawn was creeping over the horizon, bathing the forest in a pale, golden light.

Kael found a small alcove beneath the roots of a fallen tree—a temporary shelter, hidden from sight.

Elara sat beside him, her back pressed against the rough bark. The exhaustion was beginning to set in, weighing her limbs, making her eyelids heavy.

Kael watched her for a long moment before he reached into his cloak, pulling out a strip of cloth.

"You're hurt."

Elara blinked. "What?"

He gestured to her arm. She glanced down and realized there was a thin cut along her forearm—probably from the earlier fight. She hadn't even noticed it.

Kael sighed, shaking his head. "You need to be more careful."

Elara tried to smile, but it felt hollow. "I was a little preoccupied with not dying."

Kael huffed, but there was no real annoyance in his expression. He gently took her arm, wrapping the cloth around the wound with careful precision. His touch was firm but careful, his fingers brushing against her skin with surprising tenderness.

Elara swallowed.

This wasn't the first time Kael had patched her up. But something about this moment felt different.

More fragile.

More real.

She met his gaze, and for the first time that night, she saw something beyond the hardened soldier—the wariness, the exhaustion.

The fear.

Not of the enemy. Not of death.

But of losing something more important.

Elara's breath caught in her throat.

She didn't know what to say.

So she said nothing.

Instead, she reached up, brushing a strand of damp hair from his forehead. It was an instinctive gesture, one she barely thought about. But Kael stilled beneath her touch.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then, Kael exhaled, closing his eyes.

It was only a second. Barely even that. But it was enough.

When he opened them again, the moment had passed.

"We should rest," he said quietly.

Elara nodded. But as she closed her eyes, she knew sleep wouldn't come easily.

Not after everything they had lost.

Not after everything they still had left to lose.