The Wisteria Accond

Chapter Seventeen

The weight of the key burns in my pocket, every step sending a jolt of anxiety through my veins. I had barely managed to snatch it from the guard's belt during the patrol change, and the near miss has my heart still hammering in my chest. I swallow hard, trying to steady my breathing as I walk down the narrow hall. Every inch of this place feels like it's watching me, waiting for me to slip up.

I can't mess this up now. Not when I'm so close.

The shadows seem darker tonight, the stone walls closing in around me with every second that passes. I keep my footsteps light, counting each one in my head like a mantra. One. Two. Three. There's a rhythm to it, a steady beat that keeps me focused. I can't afford to let my mind wander. Not when the stakes are this high.

The guard who almost caught me is still out there somewhere, probably wondering why his keys are suddenly missing. I have to be quick. If they figure it out, if they come searching—

I shake the thought away, forcing myself to concentrate. I have to get to Ashen. I have to get him out of here before things spiral even further.

The corridor stretches out ahead, dimly lit by flickering torches. My palms are slick with sweat, and I wipe them on my pants, trying to stay calm. I've memorized the patrol patterns, the shifts, the times when the guards change positions. I've studied them obsessively for days, knowing every blind spot, every second where I might have a chance. But there's no guarantee. There never is.

I turn the corner, heart pounding in my throat, and almost slam into a guard coming the other way. I pull back sharply, my back pressed against the cold stone wall, and I duck into a small alcove. My breath catches, and I press a hand to my mouth, praying he didn't see me. He grunts, muttering something under his breath, but he keeps walking, his boots thudding against the stone.

I let out a slow, shaky breath, waiting until his footsteps fade away. I need to move faster. They'll be back this way soon.

I slip out of the alcove and head toward the holding cells, keeping low and to the shadows. The closer I get, the more my nerves buzz with a strange mixture of fear and anticipation. I feel it in every beat of my heart, every breath that passes my lips. The desperation to see Ashen again, to know he's still alive, still fighting, still waiting for me. It drives me forward, even when every instinct screams at me to turn back.

When I finally reach his cell, I see him sitting against the wall, his head tipped back, eyes closed. There's a cut on his cheek that wasn't there last time, and the sight of it sends a pang of anger through me. His hands are still bound in those iron cuffs, chafing against his wrists.

I need to be quick.

"Ash," I whisper through the bars. His eyes snap open immediately, his entire body tensing before he recognizes me. The tension in his shoulders eases, but only slightly. I see it—the exhaustion, the pain, but also that spark of defiance that refuses to die.

"Kiera," he breathes, relief softening his features for just a moment. His eyes lock onto mine, and there's a question there, a silent plea.

I pull the key from my pocket, holding it up just enough for him to see. His eyes widen, and he sits up straighter, his gaze darting around the dimly lit corridor. "How?" he mouths, a mixture of disbelief and something else—something almost like hope.

I shake my head, mouthing back, "Later." My fingers tremble as I reach for the lock on the bars. The key feels heavy and awkward in my grip, but I force myself to stay steady, to keep my breathing even. I slide the key into the lock, turning it slowly. It clicks. My heart leaps.

But then I hear it—the distant clatter of boots echoing down the hall. The guard's shift is changing back.

"Shit," I whisper, urgency flooding my veins. I push the door open just enough to slip inside, closing it behind me as quietly as I can. I rush to Ashen's side, pulling the key to his cuffs from my pocket.