Kieran’s vision wavered as he followed Julian through the winding passage, the damp air pressing in around him like a vice. The effects of the poisoned blade were worsening, the sluggishness in his limbs spreading like ink in water. He clenched his teeth, determined to push forward, but every step sent a sharp pulse of heat through his veins.

Julian moved swiftly ahead, barely sparing him a glance. “We don’t have time to slow down.”

Kieran exhaled sharply, gripping the rough stone wall for support. “I’m fine.”

Julian stopped, turning on his heel. “You’re not.” His gaze dropped to Kieran’s side, to where he had been pressing his arm against his wound. The damp patch on his shirt hadn’t gone unnoticed. “You’re bleeding again.”

“It’s nothing,” Kieran insisted. He tried to step forward, but his legs faltered, his balance slipping. Julian caught him before he could hit the ground, his grip firm but careful.

“For someone who claims to trust me,” Julian muttered, “you’re doing a terrible job of proving it.”

Kieran let out a breathless chuckle, though there was little amusement in it. “Trust doesn’t mean I’ll let you carry me.”

Julian scoffed but didn’t let go. “Well, I’d rather that than scrape you off the floor when you finally collapse.” His fingers brushed against Kieran’s wrist, his grip lingering just a second too long before he pulled away. “We need to find a place to rest. The poison’s slowing you down.”

Kieran knew he should argue, that they couldn’t afford to stop—not when the guards were searching for them. But the fire burning beneath his skin was relentless, and even his pride had limits. He gave a small nod. “Fine. But only for a moment.”

Julian studied him for a second, as if weighing the truth in his words. Then, without another word, he guided Kieran into a narrow alcove, hidden behind a crumbling stone pillar. The flickering torchlight barely reached them, casting their shadows in jagged, broken shapes against the wall.

Kieran leaned back, his breath uneven. Julian crouched beside him, pulling a small knife from his belt. “Let me see it.”

Kieran hesitated but finally relented, shifting his shirt enough for Julian to assess the wound. The cut was shallow, but the poison was doing more damage than the blade ever could.

Julian’s expression darkened. “This isn’t normal poison.”

Kieran’s lips twitched in a weak smirk. “What, you’ve seen normal poison?”

Julian ignored him, reaching into the pouch at his waist. “Stay still.” He pulled out a small vial and tipped a few drops onto the wound. A cold sensation spread through Kieran’s side, dulling the heat beneath his skin. He let out a slow breath, relief mixing with exhaustion.

Julian’s fingers brushed against his skin, lingering longer than necessary. When Kieran met his gaze, something unreadable flickered in Julian’s eyes before he looked away.

“The effects should slow down,” Julian murmured, voice quieter now. “But you need to rest.”

Kieran’s head tilted against the stone, his body betraying him as exhaustion finally set in. “Just for a moment,” he mumbled.

Julian sighed, watching him for a moment longer before shifting to sit beside him. He didn’t say anything, but the warmth of his presence—so close yet untouchable—was enough to keep Kieran anchored.

Outside, the guards’ voices echoed through the tunnels, drawing closer.

They weren’t safe yet.

To be continued...