Eleanor's POV
We run until my lungs burn and my legs scream for mercy.
Adrian pulls me forward, his hand locked with mine. Behind us, I hear the cult members crashing through the dead trees, their voices calling to each other in a language I don't understand.
"How many?" I gasp.
"Too many." Adrian yanks me left, avoiding a blast of dark magic that shatters a tree trunk. "Just keep running!"
We burst out of the twisted forest into a clearing filled with old ruins. Stone walls rise up around us, crumbling and covered in dead vines. Adrian pulls me behind a broken wall just as another spell explodes where we were standing.
"We can't keep running," I pant. "I'm too tired."
"I know." Adrian peers around the wall, assessing our options. Through our bond, I feel his mind working, calculating. "We need to hide. Make them think we kept running."
"How?"
"Shadow magic." He grabs my shoulders, looking me in the eyes. "I'm going to create an illusion—make it look like we ran in a different direction. But we'll actually stay here, hidden. Can you stay completely quiet?"
I nod, not trusting my voice.
Adrian's tattoos flare bright. Shadow magic pours from his hands, spreading out like smoke. I watch as it forms into shapes that look exactly like us, running away from the ruins toward the north.
The illusions are perfect. They even move like we do.
"Stay down," Adrian whispers, pulling me against the wall.
We crouch together as the cult members burst into the clearing. There are at least ten of them, all wearing those horrible bone masks. They spot the illusions immediately.
"There!" one shouts. "After them!"
They chase the fake versions of us, disappearing into the northern trees.
Adrian doesn't move until their presence completely fades. Then he slumps against the wall, breathing hard.
"That should buy us a few hours," he says. "Maybe more if we're lucky."
"You saved us." Relief floods through me.
"Don't celebrate yet. They'll figure out it was a trick eventually." He looks around the ruins. "But we can rest here for now. You need it."
I do need it. My whole body shakes with exhaustion. I slide down the wall until I'm sitting, my legs finally giving out.
Adrian sits beside me, close enough that our shoulders touch. Through our bond, I feel his exhaustion too. That illusion took a lot of power.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
"Fine. Just tired." He leans his head back against the stone. "Shadow magic takes energy. Especially big illusions like that."
"Thank you for protecting me."
"We're bound. Protecting you is protecting myself." But through our bond, I feel the lie. He's not just protecting me because he has to. He's doing it because he wants to.
We sit in silence for a while. The ruins are actually kind of peaceful. No hunters. No cult members. Just old stones and dead vines and the two of us.
"Eleanor?" Adrian's voice is quiet. "Can I ask you something?"
"Yes."
"Do you regret it? The binding?"
I think about it. Really think about it. Two days ago, I was a princess with my whole life planned out. Now I'm a fugitive bound to a rogue wizard, being hunted by multiple groups, trying to find a magical crystal that might kill us both.
"No," I say finally. "I don't regret it."
Surprise flickers through our bond. "Really?"
"Really. My old life was a cage. I was supposed to marry Cassian, be the perfect princess, smile and obey and never question anything." I look at him. "At least now I'm free to choose. Even if my choices are all dangerous."
"That's one way to look at it."
"What about you? Do you regret binding us?"
Adrian is quiet for a long moment. Then: "Ask me again when we're not being hunted by three different groups."
I laugh despite everything. Through our bond, I feel his small smile.
Then his expression turns serious. "But Eleanor, there's something you need to know. The binding is keeping you alive, but your corruption still needs maintenance. Regular stabilization rituals, or it'll start spreading again."
"How regular?"
"Every few days." He turns to face me. "And I need to do one now. You're overdue."
"Is that why I'm so tired?"
"Partly. Your corruption is trying to spread, and the binding is fighting it. That battle drains you." He reaches for my wrists. "This is going to hurt. It always does. But it'll help."
I remember the last ritual—the burning, the pain, the strange intimacy of his hands on my skin. "Okay. I'm ready."
Adrian rolls up his sleeves, exposing the shadow-mark tattoos covering his arms. They start glowing, pulsing with dark energy.
"Give me your wrists," he says softly.
I hold out my wrists. His hands wrap around them, and immediately I feel his magic sink into my skin. Cold at first, like ice water, then burning hot.
I gasp but don't pull away. Adrian holds my wrists firmly, his magic flowing deeper.
"Breathe," he murmurs. "Just breathe through it."
His magic wraps around the black veins in my arms, following them up toward my shoulders. Where his power touches my corruption, I feel darkness and relief flooding through me at the same time. Pain and healing mixed together in a way that makes my head spin.
"Does it always hurt?" I manage to ask through gritted teeth.
"Yes. But it works." His hands slide up my forearms, following the corruption. The touch is careful, almost gentle. "Your corruption runs deep. It's wrapped around your muscles, your bones. But the binding is holding it back."
His hands linger on my arms, his magic sinking deeper. It's intimate in a way I didn't expect. I can feel his concentration, his careful control, his determination to help me.
Through our bond, I feel something else too. His loneliness. The way he's starved for connection, for touch, for someone who doesn't flinch away from him.
"Adrian," I say softly. "When's the last time someone touched you? Not to hurt you. Just to touch you."
His hands still on my arms. "Why are you asking that?"
"Because I can feel it through our bond. You've been alone so long."
"Fifteen years," he says quietly. "Since I escaped the Guild. I haven't let anyone get close since then."
"Why not?"
"Because everyone I got close to before that ended up dead or used against me." His voice is flat. "The Guild killed my mentor in front of me. Used my friends as leverage to control me. Touch became a weapon. Connection became a trap."
Pain floods through our bond—his pain, old and deep.
"I'm sorry," I whisper.
"Don't be. It taught me to survive." He starts to pull his hands away, but I catch them, holding them against my arms.
"You don't have to be alone anymore," I say. "We're bound. I'm not going anywhere."
"You say that now—"
"I mean it." I squeeze his hands. "You saved me. You gave up your isolation to bind yourself to me. The least I can do is be here for you."
Adrian stares at me, emotions swirling through our bond too fast to name. Disbelief. Hope. Fear. Longing.
"You don't know what you're offering," he says roughly.
"Yes, I do. I'm offering friendship. Partnership. Someone who won't leave." I meet his eyes. "Someone who sees you as more than a weapon or a monster."
"I am a monster, Eleanor. I've killed people. I've done terrible things to survive."
"So? I'm Shade-Born. Half my kingdom thinks I'm an abomination." I don't let go of his hands. "Maybe we're both monsters. Maybe that's okay."
For a long moment, Adrian just looks at me. Then slowly, carefully, he pulls one hand free and touches my face. His palm cups my cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear I didn't know I'd shed.
"You're not a monster," he says quietly. "You're the bravest person I've ever met."
"I'm not brave. I'm terrified constantly."
"Being brave doesn't mean you're not scared. It means you keep going anyway." His hand is still on my cheek, warm despite his shadow magic. "You've been exiled, corrupted, hunted, and bound to a stranger. And you're still here. Still fighting. That's courage."
Warmth spreads through my chest. Through our bond, I feel his sincerity. He means every word.
"Thank you," I whisper.
We stay like that for a moment—his hand on my face, our eyes locked, the bond humming between us with something that feels almost like peace.
Then Adrian pulls back, clearing his throat. "The ritual is done. Your corruption is stable for now."
"How long until the next one?"
"Three or four days, probably." He stands, offering me his hand. "We should rest properly. A few hours of real sleep before we keep moving."
I take his hand, and he pulls me up. My body still aches, but the burning pain of corruption is gone. The ritual worked.
"Adrian?" I say as he starts gathering dead wood for a fire. "Why are you really helping me?"
He pauses, his back to me. "I told you. Your curse is unique. It might help me—"
"That's not the real reason. I can feel it through our bond." I step closer. "Why did you really bind yourself to me? Why are you really protecting me?"
Adrian's shoulders tense. For a long moment, he doesn't answer. Then, so quietly I almost don't hear it:
"Because I'm tired of being alone. Because when I found you dying in that wasteland, I saw myself. Someone the world threw away. Someone who deserved better." He finally turns to face me. "Because maybe, just maybe, we can save each other."
The honesty in his voice, in our bond, makes my throat tight.
"We will save each other," I say firmly. "I promise."
"Don't make promises you can't keep."
"I'm not." I take his hand again. "We're in this together. You keep saying that. So let's actually mean it."
Adrian looks at our joined hands. Through our bond, I feel his walls cracking. The isolation he's built around himself for fifteen years starting to crumble.
"Together," he agrees softly.
He gets the fire started with a pulse of magic. We sit beside it, shoulders touching, neither of us pulling away.
"Tell me about the Moonlight Crystal," I say. "Everything you know."
Adrian is quiet for a moment, staring into the flames. Then he begins to talk.
He tells me about the Guild's experiments. About how they wanted to hide something powerful, something dangerous. About being seven years old and held down while they cut open his chest and placed the Crystal inside him.
He tells me about the pain. The confusion. The way they sealed his memories afterward so he wouldn't remember the procedure clearly.
He tells me about escaping at thirteen. About fifteen years of running, hiding, trying to understand what they did to him.
And he tells me about the Crystal—how he can feel it in his chest, pulsing with power that's not his. How it calls to him sometimes, like it wants something.
"When we formed the binding, you woke something up," he says. "I felt it. Whatever's sealed inside the Crystal, it responded to you. To your unique corruption."
"The voice called me a bridge," I remind him.
"I know. Which means someone planned this. Someone wanted a Shade-Born powerful enough to access the Crystal." His jaw clenches. "Someone wanted you and me to meet."
The implications make my head spin. "You think my curse wasn't an accident?"
"I think Shade-Born don't just appear randomly. Someone created you deliberately. Just like someone created me." He looks at me. "We're both pawns in someone's game. We just don't know whose game yet."
Fear and anger mix in my chest. "My sister. Seraphine said she made a deal. That someone promised her the throne if she could get me to touch that tree."
"Then she's part of it. Whoever's behind this used her to curse you." Adrian's hand tightens on mine. "Which means they're powerful. Organized. And they're probably still watching us."
"What do we do?"
"We find the Crystal. We figure out what's inside it. And we make sure whatever game they're playing, we win." His gray eyes are fierce. "No one uses us anymore. Not the Guild. Not whoever cursed you. No one."
Determination floods through our bond, mixing with mine.
"Together," I say.
"Together," he agrees.
We sit by the fire as exhaustion finally pulls me under. My eyes close, and I feel myself drifting toward sleep.
The last thing I'm aware of is Adrian's arm wrapping around my shoulders, pulling me against his side. His warmth. His protection.
And his whispered words: "I won't let anyone hurt you. I promise."
Then sleep takes me, and for the first time since my exile, I feel safe.