The forest grew denser as they moved north, its tall trees forming a canopy that swallowed the sunlight whole. Shadows danced between branches, long fingers stretching across the path, and strange birds called out from unseen heights. The air was thick with damp moss and secrets.
Elara walked a few steps ahead of Kaelen, her cloak pulled tightly around her shoulders. Every few moments, she'd glance back to check his pace, noting how he favored his left side—still healing, still too stubborn to ask for rest. He moved like a soldier, sure-footed and silent, but she saw the strain in his jaw.
She hated that she noticed. Hated how easy it was to care.
The curse was patient. It waited, coiled in her chest, feeding on every flicker of affection.
"How far is this temple?" Kaelen asked, finally breaking the silence. His voice was low but steady, the sound of it cutting through the woods like a blade.
"Two days, if we're lucky," Elara said without turning. "Three, if the forest slows us."
"And it will?"
"It always does," she murmured.
Kaelen stepped beside her, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. "Does the forest hate travelers?"
"It hates secrets," she said. "And we're full of them."
He didn't ask what she meant, and she didn't explain. The woods weren't safe for idle words. There were things in the dark that listened.
They reached a fork in the trail, where the path split into two. One route was wide and well-trodden, the other narrow, choked by vines and fog.
"This way," Elara said, pointing to the narrow one.
Kaelen raised a brow. "That looks like the path people don't return from."
She met his gaze. "Exactly."
Without waiting for a reply, she pushed forward. Kaelen followed without protest, though she could sense his hesitation. Every step forward brought them deeper into the trees, where the light faded and the air grew colder.
"Elara," he said after a while, "why didn't you leave the village sooner? You said the curse follows you—but you could've lived in the capital. Hidden among people."
"I tried," she said. Her voice was quieter now, rawer. "I ran for years. After the first death, I thought if I kept moving, maybe I could outrun it. But the curse doesn't care where you go. It only cares that you feel."
Kaelen was silent.
"I stopped giving people chances," she continued. "Stopped talking. Stopped looking too long. I thought that would be enough."
"And was it?"
She glanced at him, her expression unreadable. "Until you showed up, it was."
The words stung more than he expected.
The wind picked up, stirring the trees. Somewhere in the distance, a branch cracked. Kaelen paused, hand drifting back to his sword again.
"We're being followed," he said.
"I know," Elara whispered.
She grabbed his hand and pulled him off the trail, slipping between the trees until they crouched behind a fallen log. Kaelen crouched low, pressing close, his breath quiet beside hers.
Footsteps approached—soft, calculated. Then voices.
"She said they passed through here."
"Keep your eyes sharp. If he's the prince, the bounty will be enough to buy a seat at the king's table."
Elara's heart pounded. Mercenaries.
She looked at Kaelen. He gave a single nod.
As the voices drew closer, Elara scanned the area. A narrow ledge wound down a ravine nearby, hidden beneath vines. She pointed to it.
"We climb."
Kaelen frowned. "That's a death trap."
"So is staying here."
They moved. The forest echoed with shouts as the mercenaries spotted them. Arrows flew past, one grazing Elara's shoulder. She bit back a cry and pressed forward.
The climb was treacherous. The rocks were slick with moss, and the wind howled up from the river below. Halfway down, Elara slipped. Her foot missed a stone, and she tumbled.
Kaelen caught her wrist just in time.
"Don't let go," she gasped.
"I won't," he growled, his voice iron.
He hauled her back onto the ledge, their faces inches apart. Her breath hitched.
"Elara," he said, his tone softer now. "This curse—what if it's not a death sentence? What if it's something else? A test?"
She stared at him, her heart screaming. "Don't say things like that."
"Why not?"
"Because I'll believe you," she whispered.
He didn't move, didn't blink.
"Then believe me," he said.
They descended in silence after that. The river roared louder with every step. When they finally reached the bottom, the sun had vanished completely.
They found shelter beneath a rocky outcrop. Elara started a small fire with shaking hands. Kaelen sat opposite her, watching the flames.
"You saved me today," he said after a while.
"You would've done the same."
"I'm not sure," he admitted. "I've seen men fall and didn't reach for them."
"You weren't cursed," she said, trying to keep her voice light.
He didn't laugh.
Instead, he asked, "Have you ever been in love before?"
Elara froze. "Yes."
She didn't elaborate. She didn't need to.
"I'm sorry," Kaelen said.
"Don't be. He knew. I told him what would happen."
"And he still stayed?"
"Yes."
Kaelen's brows drew together. "Would you do it again?"
She stared into the fire. "No," she said, too quickly. Then, softer, "Maybe."
He didn't speak again for a long time.
Eventually, Elara leaned back against the rock wall, exhaustion creeping over her limbs. She clutched the pendant at her neck—her mother's. The only thing she had left of the woman who'd died from the very same curse.
She didn't realize Kaelen had moved until he was beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched.
"Are you cold?" he asked.
"No," she lied.
He draped his cloak over her anyway.
As her eyes fluttered closed, she whispered, "Don't fall in love with me."
"I think it might be too late," he said, barely audible.
She pretended not to hear him.
That night, in her dreams, the river whispered.
A voice called her name—not Kaelen's, not her mother's, but something older. A voice like wind over bones.
When she awoke, the fire was out, and Kaelen was already awake, watching the horizon.
"Elara," he said, "what's waiting for us in that temple?"
She joined him at the cliff's edge, watching the sky begin to bleed with dawn.
"An answer," she said.
"And if it's the wrong one?"
"Then we make peace with what's left of us."
He looked at her then, really looked.
And for a heartbeat, the curse stirred in her chest like a blade unsheathing.
End of chapter 3