CELESTE'S POV
"Theron, wake up!"
I shook his shoulder desperately as Shadow stumbled through the forest. Theron's arms had gone completely limp around my waist. His breathing was shallow and ragged against my back.
He was dying. I could feel it.
"Please," I whispered. "Please don't die. Not after saving me. Not like this."
Dawn light filtered through the trees ahead. And there—barely visible through the branches—I saw a cabin. Small and hidden, just like the one we'd fled from.
"Shadow, there!" I pointed, though I had no idea if the horse understood me. "Take us there!"
The massive horse seemed to sense my urgency. He picked up speed, carrying us toward the cabin. We crashed through the clearing just as the sun broke over the horizon.
I half-fell, half-slid off Shadow's back, then caught Theron as he toppled sideways. He was so heavy I almost went down, but I managed to keep us both upright.
"Come on," I grunted, dragging him toward the cabin door. "You carried me. Now I carry you. We're even."
He made a sound that might have been a laugh. "Not... even... close."
The cabin door swung open at my touch—unlocked, like it had been waiting for us. I pulled Theron inside and let him collapse onto the floor by the fireplace. Blood pooled beneath him, dark and terrifying.
My hands shook as I tore at his armor straps. "Why did you do that? Why did you take that hit for me?"
"My job," he mumbled, his eyes closing. "Promised... your grandmother..."
"Stop talking about my grandmother!" Tears burned my eyes as I finally got his chest plate off. His shirt underneath was soaked with blood. "You're not doing this because of a promise. You barely know me!"
"Know you... better than you think."
I ripped his shirt open. Three deep claw marks ran across his back and shoulder. The wounds were already turning black at the edges—poison from the shadow creature.
Panic clawed at my throat. I didn't know healing magic. That had never been my strength. But I had to try something or he'd die right here on this cabin floor.
I placed my hands over his wounds and called up my celestial power. Silver light flowed from my palms, pouring into his injuries. The magic felt different than before—warmer, gentler, like starlight instead of fire.
The black edges of the wounds began to recede. The bleeding slowed.
"Working," Theron breathed. "Keep... going..."
I pushed harder, giving him everything I had left. The wounds slowly closed, the poison retreating under the assault of celestial light. But using this much magic after everything else drained me completely.
The world started spinning. My vision went dark at the edges.
The last thing I felt was strong hands catching me before I hit the floor.
I woke to warmth.
A fire crackled in the fireplace. Soft blankets covered me. I was lying on a small bed in the corner of the cabin, and golden afternoon light streamed through the windows.
I'd slept the entire day.
"You're awake."
I jerked upright. Theron sat in a chair beside the bed, very much alive. His shirt was off, revealing bandages wrapped around his torso. The shadow marks on his skin were darker than before, spreading further up his arms.
"You healed me," he said quietly. "You saved my life."
"You saved mine first." I rubbed my eyes, still groggy. "Are you okay?"
"Better than I should be." He stood and moved to a small table where supplies were laid out—bandages, medicine, water. "Your turn. Let me see your wrists."
I'd almost forgotten about my burned wrists. They throbbed painfully now that I was paying attention. I held them out, and Theron knelt beside the bed.
His hands were surprisingly gentle as he unwrapped the makeshift bandages I'd been wearing since the dungeon. The burns underneath were angry red, blistered and raw.
"This will sting," he warned, applying some kind of salve from a jar.
He was right. It stung like crazy. But I bit my lip and didn't make a sound.
Theron worked in silence, his scarred hands careful and precise. Up close, I could see more scars on his neck, his shoulders, his chest. Some looked old. Others were newer.
This was a man who'd been through countless battles.
"Why did my grandmother choose you?" I asked quietly. "Out of everyone in the kingdom, why trust you with protecting me?"
Theron's hands stilled on my wrist. For a long moment, he didn't speak. Then: "Your grandmother was the only person who was kind to me when I was an orphaned boy."
"What happened to your parents?"
"Dead. When I was eight." His voice was flat, emotionless. "Dark creatures attacked our village. Killed everyone. I hid in a cellar for three days before your grandmother found me."
My heart ached for the scared little boy he must have been. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It was a long time ago." He finished wrapping fresh bandages around my wrists. "Your grandmother brought me to the capital. Convinced the old king to let me train as a knight. She gave me a purpose when I had nothing."
"She was good at that," I said softly. "Seeing potential in people everyone else overlooked."
"She saw something in you too. Something special." Theron finally met my eyes. "She told me years ago that you'd be important. That you'd need protection when the time came. She made me promise to watch over you if anything happened to her."
"So you're only doing this because you owe her?"
Something flickered in his dark eyes. "I'm doing this because I keep my promises."
It wasn't really an answer, but I let it go.
I looked at the shadow marks creeping up his arms. "These are getting worse, aren't they?"
Theron pulled his hands back, hiding them. "Yes."
"Because you saved me?"
"No. They've been spreading for ten years." He stood abruptly, turning away. "But they're spreading faster now. Fighting the shadow creatures probably accelerated it."
"How much time do you have?"
"Weeks. Maybe a month if I'm lucky." He moved to the window, staring out at the forest. "Your grandmother said you could break the curse. That our fates were connected somehow."
"I don't know how to break curses—"
"She said you'd figure it out when the time was right." His shoulders were tense. "She said a lot of things I didn't understand. About prophecies and destiny and souls bound across lifetimes."
The visions from the cabin flashed through my mind. The knight and the witch fighting together. Dying together.
"What happened to you, Theron?" I asked softly. "How did you get cursed?"
For a long moment, he didn't answer. Then he turned back to me, and the pain in his eyes was so raw it hurt to see.
"I was protecting the old king from an assassination attempt. A dark witch attacked him with forbidden magic. I threw myself in front of the curse meant for him." He held up his marked hands. "This is what it did to me. Slowly turning me into shadow. In a few weeks, there'll be nothing left of me but darkness."
"There has to be a way to stop it—"
"There is. You." He crossed the room in two strides, kneeling beside the bed again. "Your grandmother said your celestial magic is the only thing that can burn away the curse. But it requires a ritual. One we can only perform at the Star Temple in the northern mountains."
"Then we go to the temple."
"It's a two-week journey through dangerous territory. With every kingdom guard hunting us, shadow creatures tracking you, and whatever dark force is orchestrating all of this trying to stop us." His jaw clenched. "You could run instead. Hide somewhere far away. Build a new life."
"And leave you to die?"
"I'm already dying. At least you'd be safe."
Anger flared in my chest. "You don't get to save my life and then ask me to abandon you. That's not how this works."
"Celeste—"
"We go to the temple together," I said firmly. "We break your curse. We find answers. And then we make everyone who betrayed us pay for what they did."
Theron stared at me like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Then, slowly, something that might have been hope flickered in his eyes.
"Your grandmother said you were stronger than you knew," he said quietly. "I'm starting to believe her."
"When do we leave?"
"Nightfall. We'll travel in darkness when the guards can't see us as easily." He stood. "Rest until then. You'll need your strength."
He moved toward the door.
"Theron?" I called after him.
He paused, looking back.
"Thank you. For everything."
His scarred face softened slightly. "Thank me when we're both still alive at the end of this."
He stepped outside, leaving me alone with the crackling fire and my racing thoughts.
I lay back against the pillows, exhausted but unable to sleep. My mind kept replaying everything—the betrayal, the dungeon, the escape, the visions.
The feel of Theron's hand in mine when our powers joined together.
Outside, I heard him talking softly to Shadow. His voice was different when he spoke to the horse—gentler, more vulnerable.
This cold, scarred knight who everyone feared was more complicated than he seemed.
And somehow, my fate was tied to his.
I must have dozed off because when I opened my eyes again, the sun was setting. Orange light painted the cabin walls.
I sat up, stretching my sore muscles. My wrists still hurt, but the bandages Theron had applied helped. I felt stronger, more rested.
Then I heard voices outside.
Not just Theron's voice. Multiple voices. Angry voices.
I crept to the window and looked out.
My blood turned to ice.
Theron stood in the clearing with his sword drawn, surrounded by at least twenty armed men. But these weren't kingdom guards.
They wore black robes marked with strange symbols. Dark witches. Servants of whoever had cursed Theron.
And leading them was someone I recognized.
My mother.
Grand Enchantress Vivienne Starweaver stood at the front of the group, her eyes cold and pitiless as they fixed on Theron.
"Commander Nightshade," she said, her voice carrying through the twilight. "You've committed treason by helping a condemned prisoner escape. Surrender now and I'll make your death quick."
"No," Theron said simply.
My mother smiled. It was cruel and satisfied. "Then you'll die slowly. And when you're gone, I'll take my daughter back to face her execution."
She raised her hands, dark magic swirling around her fingers.
And I realized with horrible clarity—my own mother had been part of this all along.
She hadn't just abandoned me at the trial.
She'd helped orchestrate my betrayal from the beginning.