"There's no time," Martha insisted. "Listen."
From behind them came the sound of pursuit—voices echoing through the tunnel, growing closer with each passing moment. Silver Guard, following their trail despite the initial collapse.
"Nero will find another way," Martha said, though uncertainty colored her voice. "He's a wolf, isn't he? Wolves always find a path."
River's small fingers clutched at Casteel's sleeve. "You said we wouldn't leave him," the boy accused, tears making clean tracks through the dust on his face.
Casteel closed his eyes, reaching through their bond with desperate intensity. "Nero," he whispered, not knowing if his mate could hear him across the weakened connection. "We're waiting."
A flicker of response—pain, determination, and something warmer that might have been love.
"He's coming," Casteel said, relief washing through him. "But so are the guards. We need to be ready."
Martha positioned herself protectively in front of River, while Casteel stood beside the support beam, ready to trigger the collapse the moment Nero joined them. The sounds of pursuit grew louder—metal scraping against stone, voices calling to each other through the darkness. Then another sound—the distinctive growl of a wolf, followed by screams of terror and pain. Nero was fighting his way toward them, holding back the pursuit with desperate ferocity.
"There!" Martha cried, pointing to a silver shape emerging from the gloom of the tunnel.
Nero shot towards them. His silver coat marred with blood, favoring one leg, but the second he was through he shifted. "Pull it," he gasped. "They're right behind me."
Casteel yanked the rope mechanism. Stone groaned against stone as the tunnel's carefully designed weak points gave way. The support beam cracked, then splintered under the sudden strain. Dust billowed around them as the ceiling began to collapse.
"Run!" Nero shouted, scooping up River, pushing them ahead of the tumbling stones and debris. They stumbled forward through the narrow passage as the tunnel sealed itself behind them, cutting off the Silver Guard's pursuit with finality.
The passage opened into cool night air and the sweet scent of apple orchards. They emerged beneath a canopy of stars, the manor house burning like a torch in the distance. Martha led them between the rows of trees, her intimate knowledge of the estate guiding them toward whatever safety remained.
River had remained silent during their flight, but now he pulled away from Nero's protective grip and turned to face him with accusation burning in his young eyes.
"You lied," the boy said, his voice trembling with betrayal and rage. "You promised we'd be safe there. You said the bad men couldn't reach us."
Nero knelt despite his injuries, meeting the child's gaze at eye level. "River—"
"No!" The boy's shout carried all the fury of innocence betrayed. "You promised! Just like Pa promised! Just like everyone promises before they leave me!"
River had lost everything twice now, first his family, then the sanctuary Nero had assured him would keep them safe.
"I kept my promise," Nero said quietly, his voice rough with exhaustion and guilt. "You're alive. You're safe."
"Safe?" River's laugh was bitter, far too old for his seven years. "Mama and Pa were supposed to be safe too. But the men came anyway. They always come."
Martha reached for the boy, but he jerked away from her touch as well. "Everyone leaves," he whispered, tears streaming down his dirt-stained cheeks. "Everyone dies or runs away or lies about keeping me safe."
"I didn't run away," Nero insisted, extending his hand toward the child. "I came back for you. I kept my word."
River stared at the offered hand with the hollow eyes of someone who had learned not to trust. "But you'll leave too. When the next men come, you'll leave me just like everyone else."
The accusation hung between them like a blade. Casteel felt his mate's heart breaking—not just for River's pain, but for the terrible truth the child had spoken. In a kingdom at war, there were no guarantees, no promises that couldn't be broken by violence and loss.
"You're right," Nero said finally, lowering his hand. "I can't promise we'll always be safe. I can't promise the men will never find us again."
River's face crumpled, fresh tears falling as his worst fears were confirmed.
But Nero leaned closer, silver flashing in his eyes as he looked at the broken child before him. "What I can promise is that I will never willingly leave you. If bad men come, I will fight them. If danger finds us, I will stand between you and harm. And if..." his voice faltered, and he glanced at Casteel as well, "if someday I fall, it will be because every breath in my body was spent trying to keep you safe."
The orchard around them was silent except for distant shouts from the burning estate. Martha stood a few paces away, giving them space for this moment that felt like a crossroads.
"That's why there are two of us," Casteel said, reaching slowly for River's small hand. "When one bleeds, the other stands. That's what a pack does."
River looked between them, uncertainty warring with desperate hope on his young face. "A pack?"
