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    “Clara,” came a voice from the doorway, soft yet firm. She turned to see Noah Smith leaning against the frame, his dark eyes scanning her face. “What’s happened?”


    Noah’s brow furrowed as he read. “Victor’s behind this,” he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. “He’s been waiting for the right moment to strike.”


    Noah stepped closer, his presence a grounding force. “What’s your plan?”


    “And what about you?” Noah’s voice was softer now, almost a whisper. “You’ll be walking straight into a trap.”


    Noah stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. The warmth of his touch seeped through the fabric of her jacket, a stark contrast to the cold dread in her chest. “You’re not alone in this,” he said, his voice firm. “I’ll be right beside you. We’ll face this together.”


    “Don’t,” he interrupted, his voice sharp but laced with vulnerability. “Don’t even think it. We’ve come too far to lose now.”


    "She’s walking into a trap," Noah muttered under his breath, his voice low and gravelly.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Noah turned abruptly, his eyes blazing. "I don’t care about the plan. If Clara falls, none of this matters. We’re not just fighting for a cause—we’re fighting for her."


    Noah stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "Since always. She’s not just a leader; she’s the heart of this fight. If we lose her, we lose everything."


    Noah’s expression softened slightly, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. "I know the risks. But I can’t stand by and let them take her."


    He remembered the way her hand had brushed against his during their last meeting, the electric jolt that had shot through him at the accidental touch. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since.


    "Hey," Marcus called out, snapping Noah out of his thoughts. "You sure about this? Once we move, there’s no turning back."


    As they moved into position, Noah’s heart pounded in his chest. The thought of Clara in peril was unbearable. He couldn’t let her down. Not now. Not ever. And if this was the moment that defined everything, then so be it. He’d risk it all for her.


    Her sharp blue eyes scanned the chaotic scene before her—waves of rebel soldiers, far more numerous than anticipated, were pressing forward with relentless determination. The air was thick with the clash of steel, the roar of battle cries, and the acrid scent of blood and smoke.


    She clenched her jaw, her claws digging into the frost-covered ground. We’re outnumbered, she thought, a flicker of doubt creeping into her mind. But she quickly shook it off. She couldn’t afford to hesitate.