Chapter 3: Campire

The firelight flickered between us, casting long, dancing shadows against the rough stone of the cavern walls. For a moment, the only sound was the crackle of burning pine and the distant, rhythmic howl of the wind outside.

I sat huddled by the warmth, my knees pulled tight to my chest. I risked a glance at Karlos, who was meticulously cleaning his blade with a piece of frayed leather. He moved with a practiced, solitary grace—a man who had spent more nights under the stars than under a roof.

"I wanted to see the world," Karlos said, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly register that seemed to vibrate in the small space. "I’ve always had a wandering heart. The horizon is the only thing that never lies to you."

He paused, having his eyes on me. When he looked up, his dark eyes caught the amber glow of the embers, softening as they landed on my somber expression.

"Diana," he began, his voice softening. "Are you running from something?"

"No," I answered, my voice small but firm. I looked at him, really looked at him, noting the way his broad shoulders finally seemed to relax in the isolation of the wild. A wave of guilt washed over me, thick and suffocating. "I'm so soory."

"For what?"

"I pulled you away from your path, Karlos. I turned your quiet life into... this. A flight into the unknown."

Karlos let out a short, dry laugh, the sound surprisingly warm. "I was a loner by choice, Diana, not by sentence. And I’m a proud one at that. But even the best traveler gets tired of their own shadow. You didn't drag me anywhere I didn't want to go."

He shifted, his boot brushing against the edge of my cloak. The contact was brief, but the proximity sent a sudden, electric jolt through me. He was leaning closer now, the scent of woodsmoke and rain-dampened wool clinging to him.

"Besides," he added, his gaze intense, "you have family waiting at the end of this road, don't you?"

"I do," I softly whispered.

At the mention of them, a sudden, sharp pang of homesickness hit me so hard it felt like a physical blow to the chest, stealing the air from my lungs. The faces of my kin blurred behind my eyelids—the safety, the normalcy, the life I had before the world turned cold. I needed to get this over with. I needed to go home before I lost myself entirely to this journey—or to the man sitting across from me.

I saw that Karlos noticed the way my breath hitched. He set the blade aside and leaned in, his hand hovering just inches from mine, close enough for me to feel the heat radiating from his skin.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his brow furrowed with a genuine concern that made her heart ache. "Did I say something?"

I looked down at his hand, then back up into his eyes. For a heartbeat, the distance between them felt like it was disappearing, drawn tight by a cord of unspoken tension. I wanted to reach out, to anchor myself to him, but the weight of my responsibilities pulled me back.

"No," I said, forcing a small weary smile. I pulled my cloak tighter, creating a barrier between us once more. "I just... I realize I need to get back to my own family, too. I miss them. More than I thought I would."

I felt his eyes fix on me for a long moment. He didn't pull away immediately, letting the silence stretch until it was almost unbearable.

"Then we'll get you there," he said quietly, his voice a vow. "No matter what."