The Relentless Path

Chapter III : Shadows of Conflict

The morning light filtered through the thick canopy, casting long shadows over the group as they trudged deeper into the wilds. This time, the captive was on her feet, stumbling along between the two men, her wrists still bound but her legs no longer restrained. Every step felt like a battle against her aching muscles, but at least she was moving under her own power. For now.

Ryker had finally lost patience, yanking the gag down roughly from her mouth. His sharp glare bored into her as he walked beside her.

"Getting real tired of your squirming," he muttered, voice edged with irritation. "But don't get too comfy either, sweetheart."

She gasped as the fabric loosened, her cracked lips parting to taste the cold morning air. Her throat was raw, her mind racing, but she knew this was her chance. She had to speak carefully, to appeal to whatever shred of humanity these men had left.

"My name is Cora," she said softly, the sound of her voice almost foreign after hours of silence. Her eyes flicked between them, searching for any flicker of recognition or empathy. "You can call me that, you know. I'm not just... cargo."

Kellan snorted, the sound cutting through the air like an amused grunt. Ryker's lips curled into a dark grin at the sound, clearly finding some entertainment in it too.

"Nice try," Ryker sneered, leaning in slightly. "But that won't help you out of this mess. We don't care who you are."

She swallowed hard, refusing to let his words crush her. Her voice steadied. "Everyone cares, in some way. Even if it's just about the money."

The older man's gaze lingered on her for a beat longer, then he grunted and shifted his focus back to the trail. He wasn't biting.

The silence stretched between them for a few moments longer, broken only by the sound of their footsteps crunching over the underbrush. The wind picked up slightly, rustling the branches overhead as if the wilds themselves were whispering secrets to each other. Cora kept her head down, watching the uneven ground carefully, but her mind was anything but calm.

She had to find an opening.

Ryker, still walking beside her, gave a half-hearted grunt. "Don't go trying to psychoanalyze us, sweetheart. You're just delaying the inevitable." He flicked a glance at Kellan. "You know what she's doing, right? Trying to worm her way in."

Kellan remained silent, his cold eyes fixed on the trail ahead, but the slight twitch of his jaw showed he had heard.

Ryker rolled his eyes dramatically. "Cora," he repeated, exaggerating the name like it was some fancy title. "Whatever. It's not gonna change a thing. The bounty's what matters here, at least according to this old fuck, not who you are."

Cora's lips tightened, but she refused to let Ryker's taunts provoke her. "You've got to know something's off about this bounty," she said, her tone low and steady. "Nobody pays this much just for a simple catch. If I were you, I'd be asking why."

Kellan suddenly stopped in his tracks. The abrupt halt caused Cora to stumble slightly, and Ryker, caught off guard by the shift in pace, shot an annoyed glance at the older man. Kellan turned his gaze toward her, cold and assessing. His eyes, always calculating, seemed to sharpen as he studied her, as though he were dissecting her words.

"You think you're clever," Kellan finally said, his voice low and measured. "But you're only alive because of that bounty. The moment you stop being useful, you stop breathing."

His words hung in the air like a death sentence, and Cora felt the chill of them seep into her bones. Kellan's control over the situation was terrifying—his power wasn't just in his abilities, but in his ruthless pragmatism.

"Don't get any ideas, little girl," Ryker added, adjusting the grip on his belt where a long, jagged blade rested. "You're lucky the old man here has a bit more restraint than I do."

Kellan's lips twitched, but not into a smile—it was more a shadow of a smirk, a mere flicker of amusement at Ryker's words.

The trail ahead suddenly grew narrower, the trees on either side closing in tightly as they moved deeper into the wilderness. The wilds were dense here, the forest floor overrun with thick roots and thorny underbrush. It felt like the air itself was thickening, pressing in on them from all sides.

Suddenly, Kellan stopped again, raising a hand. Ryker stilled beside him, instinctively reaching for his weapon.

Cora's heart pounded in her chest as she strained to hear what had triggered their caution. But then, she felt it—a low, distant rumble. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized what it was.

Footsteps. Heavy ones. Coming closer.

They were not alone.

Kellan's sharp gaze swept the surroundings, his hand hovering near the hilt of his sword. "We've got company," he muttered under his breath, his tone grim.

Ryker's grin spread across his face, but this time there was no humor in it—just a predatory gleam. "Guess we get to have some fun after all."

As the sounds of the approaching threat grew louder, Cora's pulse quickened. Her captors may have been skilled fighters, but this could be her chance. If they were distracted—if the battle turned chaotic enough—maybe, just maybe, she could make a run for it.

She had no idea who or what was coming, but the weight of the drug in her system was slowly fading. She could feel the familiar hum of energy beneath her skin, the stirrings of her power—muted, but there.

Cora just had to survive long enough for the opportunity.

With a grim determination, she flexed her aching wrists against the bindings and waited.