Chapter 33: The Escape
Hazel's Pov
The capital didn't fall quietly.
It screamed.
Alarms tore through the night, raw and panicked. Bells clashed out of rhythm while fires bloomed across the upper districts like poison flowers. Magic flared wild and uncontrolled as the palace tore itself apart from the inside.
We were already running.
Stone blurred beneath my boots as we cut through side streets and service tunnels. Cloaks discarded. Weapons slick.
Inside me, Flora was a live wire. She wasn't reckless; she was hyper-aware. Every sense was stretched to the limit, mapping the chaos before it could touch us.
[Left. Collapse in ten seconds.]
I veered without slowing down. Caleb followed instantly—no questions, no hesitation. Ahead of us, Lucien moved like a ghost with teeth, clearing our path before we even saw the obstacles.
A tower buckled behind us. The ground jumped.
Heat rolled over my back as an explosion vaporized the air where we had stood moments before. Caleb's hand clamped around my wrist, yanking me into a narrow alley just as fire chewed through the street.
"Move," he breathed.
I didn't need to be told twice.
We burst into the lower market just as the first wave of civilians spilled into the streets. Panic was spreading faster than the flames. Smoke burned my lungs; adrenaline drowned the pain.
Flora snarled—not in hunger, but in pure exhilaration.
[They are breaking. The crown is bleeding.]
We cut through the crowd, too fast to be followed. A squad of royal guards spotted us near the outer wall.
Caleb didn't even break stride.
He turned mid-run, his arm a blur as he launched a blade without looking. The captain went down hard. Lucien vaulted a merchant cart, landed, and neutralized the remaining three in three precise, silent movements.
No wasted motion. No drama. Pure efficiency.
"Gate's compromised," Lucien called out, eyes fixed on the horizon. "We've got one chance."
The outer gate loomed ahead. It was half-lowered, guards scrambling to seal the city shut.
Flora surged.
Power snapped down my spine, sharp and electric. I didn't slow down. I leapt—hitting the iron gate full-force as lightning cracked outward in a brutal, controlled burst.
CRA-AAK!
Iron screamed. The gate tore free from its tracks and slammed into the cobblestones with a deafening thud.
We ran through the smoke and the sparks and the shouting—running until the city dropped away and the dark forest swallowed the sound of the world.
Only when the trees closed in did we finally stop.
I bent forward, hands braced on my knees, breath tearing in and out of my chest. Sweat burned my eyes. My heart felt like it was trying to punch its way out of my ribs.
Caleb stopped in front of me.
He was too close.
His chest was heaving, his eyes bright and wild—alive in a way I hadn't seen in years. Soot streaked his jaw. Blood marked his collarbone.
For a heartbeat, we just stared at each other.
The bond flared. It wasn't a claim. It wasn't a pull. It was an acknowledgment.
"You were insane back there," he said, his voice breathless and rough.
I laughed once—sharp and shaky. "You didn't complain when I broke the gate."
His mouth curved. It wasn't a smile. It was something much hotter.
"Hazel—"
Another explosion boomed in the distance, rattling the leaves above us. The realization hit like a physical blow: We are alive. Flora took the opening. She surged, her consciousness pressing against mine with a desperate, youthful hunger.
[Please?] she begged.
I didn't fight her. Sure, why not?
I grabbed him.
Not gently. Not carefully.
My hands fisted in his jacket and hauled him down. The kiss crashed between us—hard, breathless, a collision of heat and adrenaline and all the unspoken truths we'd buried.
It wasn't soft. It was teeth and gasps and the heavy press of his hands at my waist, grounding me as the world burned behind us.
The bond flared white-hot. Fire recognizing fire.
For one suspended moment, nothing else existed. No royals. No gods. No lies. Just the heat.
When we finally broke apart, we were both gasping for air, foreheads nearly touching.
That… shouldn't have happened, I thought, the cold air hitting my skin.
Flora released her hold on me, retreating into my mind to act like a giddy teenager. I felt my face flush as the reality of the moment set in.
Caleb didn't apologize. He rested his forehead against mine, his voice low and steady. "That wasn't confusion, Hazel."
"No," I said, my pulse still racing as I stepped back, putting distance between us. "It wasn't."
Lucien cleared his throat pointedly from the shadows. "I hate to interrupt the 'emotional breakthrough,' but we need to move. Now."
"Hazel..." Caleb started.
I met his gaze—clear, fierce, and unflinching. "That was impulse. It means nothing."
I didn't wait for a response. I turned and moved into the trees, the night opening before us like a dark promise.
Behind us, the capital was a pyre.
Ahead—war.