The first rays of dawn painted the sky in delicate hues of gold and lavender, their light filtering through the dense canopy of trees surrounding the cabin. Eleanor sat on the edge of the wooden cot, her fingers twisting in the fabric of her cloak as she stared at the door. The night had been long, restless. Sleep had eluded her, chased away by the weight of the choices she had made and the uncertainty of what lay ahead.
Sebastian stirred beside her, his movements slow but purposeful. He had positioned himself close to her throughout the night, his protective instincts refusing to allow even a moment's vulnerability. Now, as he ran a hand over his face and blinked away the last remnants of fatigue, his gaze sought hers immediately.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice hushed in the quiet of the morning.
Eleanor exhaled slowly. "Like I'm walking a path with no end in sight."
He reached for her hand, his grip steady and warm. "We'll find our way."
Before she could respond, the old man who had given them shelter—Reynard, he had called himself—moved from the fireplace where he had been tending a small flame. He studied them for a moment, his weathered face unreadable.
"You need to leave now," he said finally. "Nathaniel's men are already searching these woods. If they come this way, I won't be able to keep you hidden."
Sebastian nodded, rising swiftly. "Which way do we go?"
Reynard grabbed a rough map from a shelf and laid it on the table. He traced a line with his finger. "Follow the river east until you reach the old mill. From there, take the mountain pass. It will be harder terrain, but they won't think to look for you there."
Eleanor's stomach tightened. "And if they do?"
Reynard met her gaze, his expression grave. "Then you run faster."
A heavy silence fell over the room. There was no time for fear, no space for hesitation. Eleanor forced herself to her feet, adjusting the satchel that held what little she had managed to take with her. Her heart pounded, but she would not let it betray her resolve.
Sebastian turned to Reynard. "Thank you. You didn't have to help us."
Reynard's eyes darkened with old memories. "Once, I watched someone I love run from the same chains you're escaping. I failed to help her then. I won't make that mistake again."
Eleanor felt a pang in her chest at the sorrow laced within his words. There were stories in this world, woven from loss and regret, and Reynard carried his with quiet pain.
"We won't forget this," she promised softly.
The older man merely nodded before stepping aside. "Go now. And don't look back."
The forest was alive with the crisp scent of morning dew, the world stirring to life as Eleanor and Sebastian made their way through the thick underbrush. Their pace was quick, measured, every step a calculated effort to remain unseen.
Birdsong filled the air, a stark contrast to the tension that gripped Eleanor's chest. Her eyes darted between the trees, searching for movement, for the glint of armor or the distant snap of a twig that would give away pursuers. She clutched Sebastian's arm as they neared the river, its waters rushing over jagged rocks, gleaming under the rising sun.
"Careful," Sebastian murmured, helping her across a set of slick stones. His grip was strong, sure, grounding her against the uncertainty of their flight.
She swallowed. "Do you think Nathaniel truly believes he can force me back?"
Sebastian's jaw tightened. "Nathaniel is a man who believes in control above all else. Losing you is a wound he won't allow to fester."
A chill ran through her. She had always known her brother's ruthless nature, but she had hoped—perhaps foolishly—that he would not go this far. That he would not hunt her like prey.
They pressed on, their breath fogging in the crisp morning air. The forest stretched endlessly before them, offering both shelter and danger in equal measure. Every step forward was a defiance, a rebellion against the life she had been meant to live.
Then, just as they reached the bend in the river, a sound shattered the silence.
Voices. Distant, but closing in.
Sebastian's hand was on his dagger instantly. He pulled Eleanor behind a thick cluster of trees, pressing a finger to his lips.
She held her breath as the voices grew clearer. Two men. No—three.
"…said he saw movement this way."
"The girl won't get far. Lord Sinclair ordered a full sweep of the area."
Eleanor clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms. Nathaniel's men were here. They were close. Too close.
Sebastian leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "We wait. They'll pass."
She nodded, forcing herself to remain still, to ignore the violent thrum of her heartbeat. The seconds dragged, stretching into an unbearable eternity as the men moved through the trees, their heavy boots crunching against fallen leaves.
Then, just as quickly as they had appeared, their footsteps faded.
Sebastian exhaled slowly. "Let's go."
They moved swiftly now, urgency driving them forward. The old mill wasn't far, but every step felt treacherous, as if the very air around them crackled with the threat of pursuit.
The sight of the abandoned structure was a relief—a weathered building, its stone walls partially overtaken by creeping vines, its wheel long since fallen into disrepair. They slipped inside, taking shelter in the dim interior.
Eleanor pressed a hand to her racing heart. "That was too close."
Sebastian crouched beside her, his expression grim. "He won't stop."
She met his gaze, seeing the truth in his words. Nathaniel would not stop. Not until he had her back under his control.
But she would not go back.
She reached for Sebastian's hand, gripping it tightly. "Then we go farther. We take the mountain pass. We don't stop."
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You truly are fearless."
She shook her head. "I'm terrified. But I won't let that stop me."
Sebastian lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss against her knuckles. "Then we run together."
Outside, the sun climbed higher, casting golden light over the wilderness ahead. The journey was far from over, and the danger had only just begun.
But Eleanor had made her choice.
And she would see it through to the very end.