**Hunted**

Eliana's breath came in ragged gasps as she pressed her back against the cold stone wall, trying to still the pounding of her heart. The alley was dark, damp, and silent—at least for now. 

Kieran crouched beside her, his breathing steady despite their frantic escape. His hand remained on his dagger, his sharp eyes scanning their surroundings. 

Footsteps echoed in the distance. The hunters were still searching. 

"They won't stop," Eliana whispered. 

Kieran barely turned his head. "I know." 

She swallowed. *Of course he knows.* 

The people hunting her weren't simple bounty hunters. They were trained, organized. And they wanted her alive. 

Because she was a healer. 

A rare one. 

She clenched her fists. Her gift had always made her a target—prized for what she could do, not for who she was. The King's men, mercenaries, warlords—there were always those who sought to claim her, use her. 

And now they had found her again. 

Kieran's voice was low. "They know your worth." 

She turned to him sharply. His tone was unreadable, but his gaze was calculating. 

"They'll do anything to capture you." 

Eliana shivered. "I won't let them." 

A flicker of something—approval, maybe—crossed his face. Then he rose silently and offered her his hand. 

She hesitated, then took it. His grip was strong, steady. A stark contrast to the storm raging inside her. 

"We keep moving," Kieran murmured. 

Eliana nodded, steeling herself. 

Because if they were caught… 

She wouldn't be able to heal herself from whatever came next.