The ward was no longer a wall; it was a living guillotine of crimson fire and molten silver, dropping faster than any blade forged by man. Ten feet of screaming air became seven became four became two. The edges hissed and spat, throwing off sparks that ate through cloth and skin like acid. Leo's raw scream cut straight through the roar of magic and lodged behind my ribs like a second heart trying to beat its way out.
Ryan never broke stride. He tucked Leo tighter against his chest, bowed his head, and charged the narrowing slit the way a battering ram charges a gate that has insulted his ancestors. The closing magic met him first. Silver lightning forked across his shoulders and back, peeling skin in long curling strips that fluttered away like burning parchment. Blood exploded from the wounds in sheets, steaming the instant it hit the freezing air_Yet he did not slow._ The growl that tore out of him was older than language, older than the mountain itself, pure refusal carved into sound.
I was half a step behind. The heat punched every ounce of air from my lungs and replaced it with liquid metal. My skin blistered and split the moment the ward's edge kissed it. My tongue swelled, tasting nothing but copper and burnt hair. My pulse was a drum of agony inside my skull.
The runes were almost touching now, grinding together with a shriek that vibrated in my teeth.
I planted both boots, threw my arms wide until the tendons in my shoulders threatened to snap, and let the Voice rip out of me with every drop of royal blood I had ever spilled or would ever spill until the day I died.
"STAY OPEN, I COMMAND YOU!"
The order detonated like a moon breaking across the ridge. The runes buckled outward, stone cracking beneath them. The entire mountain staggered under the weight of a queen's desperation. The closing jaws froze, trembling, fighting me with every thread of Valen's stolen power. Silver fire licked at the edges, trying to sear my throat shut, but I poured more into the command, more rage, more love, more terror, until my voice cracked and blood ran from my nose.
The gap held at barely the width of a man's shoulders, shaking violently, a heartbeat away from crushing us both.
Ryan dove.
He hit the far side shoulder-first, rolled, cradled Leo against his chest with one arm while the other took the full impact of jagged stone. Blood burst from his mouth in a red cloud. I followed half a breath later. The ward scraped a layer of flesh from my ribs and hip as I slid through like a bullet through a closing door. The backlash slammed into my spine like a silver spear forged in the heart of a star. My vision went white, then red, then black at the edges, and for one terrifying second I thought I had gone blind.
The ward snapped shut behind us with a thunderclap that knocked me flat on my face. Shards of broken magic rained down, hissing where they touched skin. My ears rang so violently the world sounded underwater. My bones felt powdered, my skin on fire.
We were out.
Cold mountain wind slapped the sweat and blood from my face, so sharp it felt like mercy. The Three Sisters Ridge stretched ahead, nothing but knife-edge rock and screaming sky. Somewhere below, torches boiled out of the stronghold like angry ants from a kicked nest.
Ryan was already on his feet. Leo clung to his neck, face buried in the shredded remains of his shirt, tiny body shaking so hard I heard his teeth chatter over the wind. Ryan's shoulders were raw meat, silver poisoning blackening the edges of every wound, but he moved like the pain belonged to someone else entirely.
"Crevice," he rasped, voice shredded. "Move."
We ran.
Loose scree slid under my boots like ball bearings. Every step sent gravel skittering into the abyss on either side. My lungs burned with frost and blood. Behind us the first scouts crested the broken wall, six wolves in half-shift, silver armor flashing, eyes glowing with Valen's corruption. They scented the air and howled when they found us. The sound carried the promise of slow death.
They would be on us in minutes.
I smelled Kael before I saw him: gun oil and pine and the faint copper of loyalty held too long in check. He stepped from the crevice mouth, rifle raised, face going slack when he saw Leo alive and screaming in Ryan's arms.
"General," Ryan snarled, voice barely human anymore. "Take them both. Now."
Kael slung the rifle without a word and opened his arms. Ryan hesitated for one single heartbeat. Leo's fingers were knotted so tight in his shirt the fabric tore. Ryan pressed his mouth to our son's curls, inhaled once like he was memorizing the scent of life itself, then handed him over.
Leo wailed. The sound speared my chest and kept going. Small arms reached back, fingers grabbing air. "Daddy, no, please, don't leave me!"
I swallowed the sob that tried to crawl up my throat and choke me.
Ryan bent into the crevice and lifted Elias. The King hung limp, silver hair dragging across stone, skin almost translucent, veins black beneath. Ryan settled him across Kael's other shoulder with the care of a man laying down the last piece of his soul.
"River crossing," Ryan ordered. "Secondary pack. You do not stop for anything. Not for fire, not for blood, not for the moon herself. You get them across the water and you vanish."
Kael's eyes met mine over Leo's sobbing head. I saw the apology there, the refusal to waste breath on argument. He gave me one sharp nod, turned, and melted into the darkness with my father and my son cradled against his heart.
Leo's crying faded into the wind and left a hole bigger than the mountain.
Ryan faced me. Blood poured from the ruins of his shoulders, dripping off his fingertips to hiss on the cold stone. His eyes were pure molten gold, ancient and terrifying.
"They want us," he said. "Not them. Not anymore."
The realization crashed over me colder than the wind. Valen had never needed Leo alive forever. He had needed the royal bloodline to come running straight into the jaws he had opened. The ward, the hour limit, the perfect bait. We had danced exactly where he wanted, and the trap had sprung the moment we stepped through that breach.
Ryan's mouth twisted into something feral and beautiful. "Then we give him a hunt that bleeds him dry."
He grabbed my hand. Our fingers locked, slick with blood and promise.
Behind us the first scout howled, victory and hunger braided together. Torchlight crested the ridge, dozens now, then hundreds. Valen's banner snapped crimson against the sky.
We turned north, straight toward the sheer face where the ridge dropped into nothing but wind and starlight. The path was suicide. The fall was certain death.
Perfect.
Let them follow the queen and the Alpha with nothing left to lose.
Let them chase ghosts across a mountain that had already swallowed our blood.
I squeezed Ryan's hand once. He squeezed back hard enough to grind bone.
Then we ran into the dark, two wolves laughing at death, leading the entire hunter's army away from the only things that still mattered.
The mountain could have our bodies.
It would never have our son again.