Kent landed with a grunt that was… honestly kind of satisfying.

Not my fault, he slept like a corpse.

I dusted off my foot, mostly for dramatic effect, and stretched as he groaned awake. I had just arrived back from that damn tunnel to hell, and let me tell you, it wasn't the best vacation. Annalise was already up, sitting by her little camp setup like she'd been waiting for me to personally apologize for being late. As if I would do that.

Kent, of course, clutched his side like I'd run him through.

"Sebastian—" he hissed, rubbing the exact spot my heel had kissed him. He stared at me with an expression that was approximately three seconds away from murder. Maybe two.

I ignored him.

I'd learned long ago that acknowledging Kent's suffering only encouraged him.

Instead, I caught Annalise staring at me with this weird… face.

A mix between confusion, horror, and that look people get when they realize a beverage is sour, but they keep drinking it anyway.

I frowned."What?"

She didn't answer.

Just pointed.

At my arms.

Then she mouthed something.

Something that looked like drop her, you idiot.

And that was when it hit me.

Like a full-body curse.

Like divine judgment.

I was still holding Nora.

Princess Nora.

In a princess carry.

Pressed against me like some kind of romance novel cliché.

What a coincidence, holding a princess in a princess carry.

Alas, not everything goes the way you want it to.

Nora's face was red.

Very red.

Impressively red.

And if looks could kill?

I would have ceased to exist before I even noticed I was dying.

My soul would've evaporated.

My body would've folded like laundry.

The gods would've wheeled me into the afterlife on a cart that said "Cause of Death: Poor Life Choices."

I dropped her.

Immediately.

Straight down.

She landed on her feet like a cat. A very, very offended cat.

Her hand went straight to the hilt of her sword.

My blood ran cold.

"Nora—"

Too late.

She took one step forward, eyes blazing with royal fury, and I swear the air temperature rose and fell at the same time.

But Annalise lunged, grabbing her around the waist in a full tackle before she could skewer me like a kebab.

"Let me go!" Nora shrieked, kicking her feet like a gremlin in a ball gown. "My dignity, my honor, my status as a royal have been compromised! I must stab him! Just a little! Just enough to send a message to anyone who thinks that they can just hold me up like that!"

Annalise struggled, sliding backward in the dirt as Nora fought with the strength of someone fueled purely by humiliation.

"No stabbing!" Annalise yelled.

"Just one!" Nora screamed back.

I would have almost laughed if the situation had favored it, but unfortunately, Nora truly did want to stab me, probably because she knew that I could regenerate quickly.

Kent, who was now fully awake, watched with the dead eyes of a man who regretted every decision that led him to this moment.

Me?

I did the only thing a sane, responsible adult could do.

I took a strategic step back.

Then another.

Then one more.

Because sure, maybe dropping a princess I accidentally carried all night was bad.

But letting her shish-kebab me before breakfast?

Absolutely not.

Nora finally stopped trying to murder me. It really took nearly all our manpower to stop her from stabbing me like some war goddess.

It took a while. And by "a while," I mean Annalise nearly got dragged across the ground like a mop twice, Kent nearly got stabbed once, and I almost tripped over a rock trying to keep distance.

But miracles are possible in my life.

Nora inhaled.

Calmed.

Straightened her clothes.

Raised her chin like a real princess again.

And muttered, "I will stab you later."

Which, honestly, was fair.

Kent, still rubbing the spot I'd kicked, scowled at me.

"Okay," he said, voice flat. "Why did you wake me up? You ruined my perfect sleep."

Perfect sleep.

Right.

Sure.

The one he had while I was being chased by wolves the size of small houses, and he snored like a dying trombone.

I opened my mouth.

Then froze.

Because I remembered.

We were still in a test.

Still in a massive cavern.

Still being hunted by a pack of crazy wolves.

My entire body jolted into survival mode.

"Oh. Right. That."

Sacha, who had been perched on my shoulder like a smug little snowball, immediately dissolved into icy mist without even a single command from me. The cold wrapped around my arm, coiling down to my palm like a ribbon of winter before solidifying into a blue glass blade.

The sword hummed.

A low, cold note.

Sharp.

Focused.

Ready.

The shift in me was obvious because the others snapped to attention instantly.

Annalise tightened her threads, weaving them together with a practiced flick of her fingers until they formed a thin, shimmering blade, elegant, dangerous, and looking like it absolutely wanted to slice something.

Kent summoned his scythe with a flourish. The silver blade caught the faint moonlight dripping down from the cracks above, gleaming like a promise of violence. He spun it once, the air hissing as it cut through.

Nora sighed dramatically.

Like she was being forced to attend a boring noble brunch instead of preparing for potential death.

Her shoulders slumped. She gave me one last annoyed glance, the "you ruined my dignity and I will never forget this" kind, then unsheathed her rapier.

The metal sang as it left its scabbard.

Kent cleared his throat, eyes sharp now, all traces of half-awake whining gone.

"So," he said. "Why did you wake me up?"

I didn't answer.

There was no need to waste my energy talking to him.

Instead, I just lifted a finger.

And pointed.

At the cave we'd crawled out of.

Kent frowned, confused.

"What? There's nothing th—"

BOOM.

The cave wall exploded.

A blast of stone and dust burst outward like a cannon going off, sending chunks of rock clattering across the cavern floor. The entire place shook, trembling beneath our feet. Dust swept over us in a gritty wave.

Nora shielded her face. Annalise squinted.

And Kent swore something that was probably illegal in three kingdoms.

I just narrowed my eyes and steadied my grip on Sacha.

Because I saw them.

The glow.

One pair.

Then another.

Then another.

Dozens.

Dozens of eyes.

Deep red.

Unblinking.

Hunger burning behind them like small furnaces.

The wolves stepped forward.

Massive. Muscled. Bodies shaped from flesh and bone and whatever nightmare the test designers thought was funny.

The hunger in their eyes sharpened.

Focused.

On us.

On me.

Kent inhaled shakily."Sebastian."

"Yeah?"

"Next time," he said, voice trembling with excitement, "maybe wake me up gently."

I didn't look away from the eyes.

"I did," I lied.

Then the wolves lunged.

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