Page 21 of Unravelled
"Please" she whispered. He gave a single nod.
They left the tent with quiet precision, Mira tucking the key into her sleeve. The town was muted now, the fires dying low, the murmurs of voices thinned to hushed rustles and the occasional voice of a distant watchman. The air was cooler than before but the scent of smoke clung to everything.
They moved in silence, Tharion weaving between the scattered tents and broken beams. Mira realized just how easily Tharion followed her. No searching. No stumbling. The path she’d taken with Torvyn earlier had felt instinctive, like slipping into shadow. But now she wondered if it had ever truly concealed them.
When they reached Torvyn’s tent, Mira hesitated just for a moment. Tharion stepped forward and tapped the canvas wall twice. There was a rustle inside. Shadows moved. The flap lifted a few inches, and Torvyn’s face appeared, brows furrowed. Surprise flickered across his features when he saw who stood beside her.
“Tharion,” he said, guarded. “I didn’t expect…”
Mira extended her hand. The key gleamed faintly in the lantern light as she held it out. Torvyn’s gaze dropped to the key, then to Tharion, then back to the key again. His expression hardened slightly, in disbelief. Still, he reached out and took it from her, closing his fingers around the metal.
No more words were exchanged. Mira felt something inside her shift as the key left her hand, something irreversible. A thread pulled taut. Torvyn gave a tight nod. The tent flap dropped shut once more.
They stood there a moment longer, feeling the chill in her arms. Tharion didn’t speak, only turned beside her, waiting for her to lead the way back.
As they walked, two shadows in the dark, bound together by a shared act of rebellion neither of them could ever take back.
6
Mira spent most of the following morningin the medical tent, her hands busy as she moved from one wounded to the next. She worked quietly but efficiently, offering small words of encouragement where she could.
The scent of herbs and salves mingled with the sharper tang of blood and sweat. She forced herself to focus on the people.By late morning, the town was a hive of activity. The convoy was being re-packed. Supplies and belongings strapped tightly to the carriages, voices rising as orders were barked and tasks delegated. The tension in the air was palpable. It clung to everything like the weight of an approaching storm.
Once Mira had washed and changed into a simple travelling pants and shirt, she made her way toward the carriage. Weaving through the chaos, until she spotted Tharionchecking the straps on one of the supply carts. He hadn’t noticed her yet, his head bent, his fingers tugging at a stubborn buckle. She hesitated, her feet rooted in place for a moment before she forced herself forward.
“Tharion,” she called, her voice steady but loud enough to cut through the surrounding noise. He turned, his expression guarded but calm as he straightened to face her. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the air between them heavy. Her gaze flicked to the cart he was packing. Their theft wouldn’t be reported until they were already back at the palace. Tharion’s eyes briefly met hers, and after a heartbeat of hesitation he stepped toward her, holding her upper arm and guiding her toward the other side of the cart.
Mira stumbled slightly, glaring up at him. “What are you doing?” she hissed.
“Just keep walking,” he muttered under his breath, steering her around the back of the cart, away from the watchful eyes of the camp. Once they were shielded by the bulk of the wagon, he released her arm, his touch softening as his hand lingered just a moment longer than necessary.
Lowering his voice. “Mira, we can’t afford to slip up” he said, his tone softer now, though it still carried the weight of his concern. “If they notice anything off about this cart, it’s over.” Mira glared up at him, her frustration bubbling to the surface.
“I know what’s at stake, Tharion. I wasn’t going to…” The sound of approaching boots cut her off. Mira tensed, her eyes darting toward the noise. Quickly, Tharion moved closer. His forearm rested on the wood, not quite touching her, as he leaned in further, his face inches from hers.
Her heart leaped, catching her off guard. For a fleeting moment, she thought he might kiss her, for the first time since they were bonded, right there in the middle of this chaos. The thought sent a surge of heat through her, unbidden and impossible to suppress. She stretched up on her toes to meet him, trying to close the small gap between them. He shifted, his lips brushing her cheek instead. The gesture was quick, almost casual.
The sound of the boots stopped. Both Mira and Tharion looked toward the source of the noise. Ren stood a few steps away. The air between them crackled, charged. Anger. Disbelief. Hurt. It all twisted through Ren’s expression like lightning caught behind storm clouds. His jaw tightened. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he took a slow, deliberate step forward.
Tharion didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. His expression remained calm, but Mira recognised that calm. It was armor. Worn and polished. Ren stopped just short of them, his breath shallow. Mira didn’t dare speak. Ren’s eyes narrowed.
“What have you done, Tharion?” His voice was low, almost a whisper.
“Is a bonded couple kissing really your concern right now, Ren?” Tharion asked, his tone calm but pointed. He shifted, just enough to place himself between them. Subtle, deliberate.A silent barrier. A protector.
Ren’s eyes slid past Tharion to the her and then the cart. He blinked. A flicker of realization passed over his face.
“Give me the key,” Ren said, voice flat, deceptively calm. Tharion didn’t answer right away. His gaze locked on Ren’s, jaw tensing as the silence stretched. One hand dropped just slightly, toward his belt. Not obvious. Not overt. But Mira saw it.
“You already know I can't” Tharion replied evenly, his voice steady as stone. "The people deserve a way to fight back." Tharion said quietly.
Ren’s gaze flicked past him to Mira. Her cheeks burned. Tharion hadn’t said we. He hadn’t exposed her. He’d shouldered the blame alone, like he always did for her. For all of them.
Mira was finished hiding behind the sacrifices of others. She stepped forward, past the shield Tharion had built around her, until she stood at his side, as an equal. Her fingers slid into his steady, deliberate.
She lifted her chin as she met Ren’s stare. “What we’ve done,” she said, voice clear, sure. “We chose this. Both of us.” The words struck like flint. Sharp. Unapologetic.
Ren didn’t move. His face was stone, but the fire in his eyes blazed for a moment, before it was replaced with quiet grief.
