He hesitated a moment longer, teeth grinding, before the words ripped from him:
“I’ll retire him myself.”
The words came rough, betraying the fear he tried to mask as command.
Riven stopped.
He looked at Baron, eyes narrowing, but Baron didn’t back down. For a moment, the air between them was thick, silent, dangerous.
Then, with a slow exhale, Riven handed her over and gave a small, curt bow.
Baron slid his arms beneath Elyan with practiced care, drawing him close against his chest. The weight of him, fragile and warm, steadied him and unstrung him all at once.
Whispers rose louder around them, cadets trading sharp glances.
But Baron barely noticed. His gaze stayed fixed on Elyan’s face, searching for any sign of life.
You’re fine. You have to be.
He turned, jaw set, carrying her
