Morning arrived with cold rain and bitter wind. Serena was already in the courtyard when Kael descended the tavern's creaking stairs, her armor gleaming despite the gloom. She'd oiled and polished it before dawn—a ritual that kept her sane when memories threatened to drown her.

  "You're late," she said without looking up from the map spread before her.

  "The sun's barely risen," Kael countered, pulling his cloak tighter.

  "A wizard who can't tell time. Reassuring." She folded the map with practiced precision. "Where's the thief?"

  "Right behind you, darling." Thorne materialized from the shadow of the stables, already outfitted for travel. A curved dagger hung at each hip, and his leather armor bore strange sigils along the seams. "Always where you least expect me."

  Serena's hand dropped to her sword hilt. "Do that again, and you'll lose fingers."

  Thorne's grin only widened. "Promises, promises."

  Kael intervened before blood could be spilled before breakfast. "The barkeep says barbarian raids have been concentrated along the Old Forest Road. Three merchant caravans destroyed in the past month."

  "What the barkeep doesn't know," Thorne added, suddenly serious, "is that there were no survivors. None. Barbarians typically take prisoners for ransom or slaves."

  Serena narrowed her eyes. "How would you know that?"

  "I have many talents besides looking devastatingly handsome in rain." He winked, but the levity didn't reach his eyes. "I spoke with a border guardsman last night. The bodies they found were... changed. Twisted. Not typical barbarian work."

  A chill that had nothing to do with the weather crawled up Kael's spine. "Changed how?"

  "Extra limbs. Missing faces. The guardsman was quite drunk, but quite specific."

  Serena's expression hardened. "You should have mentioned this last night."

  "Would it have changed your mind about the quest?" Thorne challenged.

  "No," she admitted. "But I dislike surprises."

  "Then you're in the wrong line of work, knight." Thorne whistled, and a stable boy led out three horses—two sturdy mountain geldings and a sleek black mare that snorted impatiently. "I took the liberty of arranging transportation. Consider it my contribution to our little enterprise."

  Kael eyed the horses suspiciously. "You paid for these?"

  "I... negotiated a favorable arrangement." At Serena's scowl, he added, "Perfectly legal, I assure you. Mostly."

  They departed as rain became deluge, hoods drawn against the downpour. Dunwick dwindled behind them, a smudge of smoke in the gray morning. The Old Forest Road stretched ahead, a muddy ribbon cutting through increasingly dense woodlands.

  They rode in silence for the first hour, each lost in private contemplation. Kael watched Serena from beneath his hood. Her posture never wavered despite the weight of her armor and the punishing weather. Whatever drove her, it burned hot enough to keep doubt at bay.

  Unlike the turmoil inside him. The medallion pulsed against his skin, responding to the gathering storm. Forbidden magic recognized its own kind—and something ahead called to it.

  At midday, they paused beneath a massive oak to choke down hard bread and dried meat. The rain had lessened to a persistent drizzle that somehow seemed worse than the morning's torrent.

  "We're being followed," Thorne said conversationally, as if commenting on the weather.

  Serena's hand went to her sword. "Since when?"

  "About an hour after we left Dunwick. Two riders, keeping to the tree line."

  Kael closed his eyes, extending his senses beyond the physical. "Three," he corrected. "One's masking their presence. Not human."

  Thorne raised an eyebrow. "Now that's a useful trick."

  "Can you tell what they want?" Serena asked, surprising Kael with her immediate acceptance of his magic.

  He shook his head. "Only that they're watching. Waiting."

  "For what?"

  "Night," Thorne suggested grimly. "When their advantages multiply and ours diminish."

  "Then we make camp early," Serena decided. "Choose the battlefield."

  They found a clearing near a shallow stream, backed against a cliff face that protected one flank. While Serena constructed a lean-to from branches and oilcloth, Thorne disappeared into the forest and returned with two rabbits. Kael, much to their surprise, conjured flames that burned despite the damp wood and persistent drizzle.

  As dusk approached, the rain finally ceased. Clouds parted to reveal a sky painted in violent purples and reds—a bloodied canvas stretching horizon to horizon.

  "Bad omen," Thorne murmured, eyes on the sky.

  "I didn't take you for superstitious," Kael replied.

  "I wasn't. Until I saw things that superstition explains better than reason." The rogue prodded the fire with a stick. "There are places in this world where the barriers thin. Where things slip through."

  Serena snorted. "Tavern tales to frighten children."

  "Says the woman who kills for a living," Thorne shot back.

  "I kill with purpose," she hissed. "To protect the innocent."

  "Yet here you are, far from your Order, insignia deliberately obscured." His voice remained light, but his eyes glittered dangerously. "Running from something, perhaps?"

  Steel whispered against leather as Serena's blade cleared its sheath. "Mind your tongue, thief."

  "Both of you, be silent," Kael commanded, voice suddenly edged with power. The medallion beneath his robes glowed hot enough to be visible through the fabric. "They're here."

  Shadows moved between trees—fluid, elongated shapes that stretched and contracted with unnatural rhythm. No footfalls, no breathing, just the inexorable approach of darkness given form.

  "Weapons," Serena barked, rising to her feet.

  The first attacker burst from the tree line with impossible speed—humanoid but wrong, limbs too long and joints bending backwards. A barbarian once, perhaps, but the face had been... rearranged. Eyes where the mouth should be, jaw distended to accommodate rows of needle teeth.

  Serena met it with cold steel, her blade cleaving through corrupted flesh with practiced efficiency. Black ichor sprayed across her armor as the creature fell, twitching.

  Two more charged from different directions. Thorne's daggers flashed, finding vital points with surgical precision. One creature dropped; the other kept coming despite having a blade buried to the hilt in its throat.

  "Kael!" Thorne called, genuine alarm in his voice for the first time.

  The wizard raised his hands, medallion blazing through his robes. Words in a language older than the kingdom spilled from his lips, each syllable burning the air. Blue fire erupted from his fingertips, engulfing the abomination mid-leap.

  It screamed—a sound no human throat could produce—as it burned from the inside out, flesh blackening and sloughing away to reveal something underneath that resembled insect carapace more than bone.

  Serena dispatched another with two brutal strikes, then spun to face the next threat. But the remaining shadows had retreated, melting back into the forest with unnatural speed.

  "They're regrouping," she panted, blood and ichor dripping from her blade.

  "No," Kael said, voice hollow. "Testing. They're testing us."

  Silence fell, broken only by their ragged breathing and the snap of flames. The medallion's glow faded slowly, leaving Kael drained and trembling.

  "What in all nine hells were those things?" Thorne demanded, retrieving his dagger from the corpse at his feet.

  "Corrupted," Kael answered. "Human once, but... changed. Infected."

  "By what?" Serena's voice had lost its edge, shock temporarily overwhelming hostility.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  "Old magic. Forbidden magic." Kael met her eyes across the fire. "The kind I was exiled for studying."

  Understanding dawned on her face. "You're not just a wizard. You're a heretic."

  "I prefer 'independently minded researcher,'" he replied with a weak smile.

  Thorne laughed, the sound brittle with nerves. "Well, your independent research just saved our skins, so I'm disinclined to complain."

  They dragged the bodies to the edge of the clearing, away from their camp. Upon closer inspection, the corruption was even more extensive than it had appeared in combat. Limbs had been repurposed, organs relocated. One creature had an extra heart visibly pulsing beneath translucent skin.

  "We should turn back," Serena said, wiping her blade clean. "Report this to the Lord Protector."

  "Who do you think sent these?" Thorne replied darkly. "The border between Eldrath and the northern wastes has been disputed for generations. What better way to clear contested land than with monsters that leave no witnesses?"

  "You think the Lord Protector is behind this?" Serena's incredulity was plain.

  "I think five hundred gold pieces buys a lot of silence." Thorne sheathed his daggers. "And I think three mercenaries make convenient scapegoats if anything goes wrong."

  Kael said nothing, his attention focused on a symbol carved into one creature's forehead—three interlocking circles bisected by a wavy line. He'd seen it before, in ancient texts describing rituals to thin the veil between worlds.

  "We need to keep watch," he finally said. "All night. They'll be back."

  They agreed on shifts—Thorne first, then Kael, with Serena taking the predawn hours when attacks were most likely. As the rogue settled by the fire, Kael and Serena retreated to the lean-to, close but not touching, the air between them thick with unspoken tension.

  "Your magic," she said quietly, after long minutes of silence. "It wasn't like any I've seen before."

  "It wouldn't be," he replied. "The Academy forbids it. Blood magic, they call it. Power drawn from life itself."

  "Is that why they exiled you?"

  A bitter laugh escaped him. "Exile was the merciful option. They wanted my head."

  She shifted, armor creaking. "Why study it, knowing the risk?"

  "Because it works when nothing else does." He turned to face her, close enough to see the flecks of gold in her green eyes. "Because sometimes conventional boundaries must be broken to achieve unconventional results."

  "Like surviving creatures that shouldn't exist," she murmured.

  "Exactly."

  Silence again, but different now. The adrenaline of battle still coursed through their veins, heightening every sensation. Kael was acutely aware of her proximity, the scent of steel and sweat and something uniquely female beneath the blood and grime.

  "You fight well," she said finally. "For a wizard."

  "You're not what I expected," he countered. "For a knight of the Silver Order."

  Her expression clouded. "I'm not... that is..."

  "You're no more a knight than I am still an Academy wizard," he finished for her. "We all have our secrets, Serena."

  Something in the way he said her name broke the last of her reserve. She moved with warrior's decisiveness, closing the distance between them. Her mouth found his, hot and demanding. There was nothing gentle in the kiss—it was hunger, pure and primal, born of battle-lust and the shadow of mortality.

  Kael responded in kind, surprised by his own ferocity. Her armor was an obstacle quickly overcome by practiced hands; she'd removed most of it for sleep, leaving only the padded gambeson that he now pushed upward to expose smooth skin and taut muscle.

  "This changes nothing," she gasped as his mouth traced the column of her throat.

  "Of course not," he agreed, teeth grazing her collarbone.

  She pulled at his robes, impatient fingers seeking flesh. The medallion's chain caught briefly, and he stiffened—but she moved past it, focusing instead on the lean planes of his chest and abdomen. For all her warrior's strength, her touch turned unexpectedly delicate as she explored the network of scars that mapped his torso.

  "Academy discipline?" she asked, tracing one particularly vivid line that ran from sternum to navel.

  "Academy escape," he corrected, then silenced further questions with his mouth.

  They undressed each other with increasing urgency, the narrow confines of the lean-to forcing an intimacy that neither would have chosen but both now craved. Her body was a battlefield itself, mapped with scars that told stories of countless fights survived. He paid homage to each one with lips and tongue, drawing soft sounds from her that she tried and failed to suppress.

  When he moved between her thighs, she arched against him with a warrior's strength, nails scoring his back. There was no tenderness in their coupling—only desperate need and the affirmation of life in the face of death. She moved beneath him with fierce abandon, taking what she wanted without apology.

  Kael matched her pace, drive for drive, the medallion swinging between them with each thrust. It began to glow faintly, responding to his heightened emotions, casting their joined bodies in cold blue light.

  Serena noticed, eyes widening, but instead of fear, something like exhilaration crossed her features. She reached up and grasped the medallion, fingers curling around the metal as Kael drove deeper.

  Power surged between them—unexpected, uncontrolled. The magic responded to their shared passion, amplifying sensation until every touch was almost unbearable. Serena cried out, body clenching around him as pleasure peaked and crested. Kael followed moments later, vision whiting out as power and release merged into something transcendent.

  In the aftermath, they lay tangled and spent, breathing heavily. The medallion's glow faded slowly, leaving them in near darkness. Outside, Thorne whistled a jaunty tune, either oblivious to what had transpired or tactfully pretending to be.

  "That was..." Serena began, then stopped, seemingly at a loss.

  "Unplanned," Kael supplied.

  A short laugh escaped her. "Yes. That."

  She disentangled herself carefully, the warrior's discipline reasserting itself as she reached for her scattered clothing. Kael watched her dress, admiring the efficient economy of her movements.

  "Your magic responded to us," she said finally, voice carefully neutral. "Is that normal?"

  "No," he admitted. "The medallion reacts to emotion, but never like that. Never so... intensely."

  She nodded once, processing this information with the same methodical approach she'd apply to battlefield intelligence. "We should sleep. Real sleep. I take watch in three hours."

  And just like that, walls rebuilt, distance restored. Kael nodded, unsurprised. They weren't friends or lovers—just desperate souls thrown together by circumstance and gold.

  Yet as she settled beside him, careful inches separating their bodies, he felt the aftershocks of their connection lingering like phantom pain from an amputated limb. Something had changed, despite her insistence otherwise.

  In the quiet darkness, Kael touched the medallion, now cool against his skin. The forbidden magic had responded to their joining in ways he'd never anticipated. The implications were as disturbing as they were fascinating.

  From his post by the fire, Thorne's whistling stopped abruptly. Kael tensed, reaching for power.

  "Just a night bird," the rogue called softly, resuming his tune.

  But in the forest beyond their camp, shadows continued to gather, watching and waiting for sunrise to fade and darkness to return.