Page 14 of Unravelled

“Look around you. This is one town, one among so many, but the story isn’t unique. You’ve heard. The raids grow fiercer every week and it feels like we’re losing more than we can bear, yet the Crowned Betrothed does nothing,” a low murmur stirred among the gathered.

It began as breath, but grew. Anger. Agreement.

Determination. He let it swell before he spoke again.

“Even what we brought today…” His voice dropped just slightly, but the words struck harder for it.

“It was siphoned from other allocations. Redirected. Quietly. By people I trust.” That drew stares and murmurs of disbelief.

Tension thickened in the air like a coming storm.

“There’s no royal approval for this,” he said.

A flicker of silence followed and for a heartbeat, Mira felt panic spike in her chest. A sharp, breathless jolt.

“No decree. No signatures.” Brahn's voice deepened, quiet yet firm, each word laced with conviction. “We are not victims who will simply lie down and be forgotten. We are more than survivors clinging to what’s left. We are the hands of freedom. The ones who will rise from the ruin and forge something new, something stronger, something ours.”

He glanced toward the children huddled near the fire, his tone softening “We fight for them. For the chance to give them a life free from fear. For a tomorrow where they can dream of something greater than just survival.” The fear that had gripped the room began to fade, replaced by something quieter, but far stronger.

Hope. Brahn straightened, his presence filling the small space as he finished.

“This is not our end. This is where we begin again.”

A ripple moved through the crowd, not of noise, but of energy.

Heads lifted. Shoulders straightened. The quiet murmur of agreement rolled forward Faces that had been slack with despair hardened.

A man near the back straightened, his weathered hands clenched into fists.

“For Freedom!” he called out, his voice cracking with emotion.

The quiet murmur of agreement rolled forward like a tide reclaiming the shore.

Hope. Not loud, but rooted, grounded. Real.

One by one, the villagers unfroze, not in haste, but with purpose.

Someone returned to tend the fire. Another picked up a hammer, slinging it over their shoulder.

A woman wrapped her child in a blanket and pressed a kiss to his forehead, her eyes no longer distant.

They dispersed in pairs and trios, back into the square, back into the broken homes and makeshift shelters.

Brahn’s gaze swept over the dispersing crowd, steady and piercing, until it locked with them.

Torvyn had barely smiled before Brahn stalked over, pulling him into a fierce kiss.

For a fleeting moment, the weight of the destruction surrounding them lifted, replaced by the overwhelming shock of familiarity and relief.

They pulled apart breathlessly, foreheads brushing, neither quite ready to let go.

Torvyn's hand lingered at Brahn’s collar, and Brahn’s eyes searched his face.

Mira took a tentative step forward, her voice carrying quiet admiration. “That was a powerful speech,” she said, her gaze steady. “You’ve reignited their hope.”

Brahn's gaze shifted sharply to Mira. His expression darkened as he took her in. He turned back to Torvyn, his voice laced with disbelief. “You brought her here?”

“She’s ready,” Torvyn said quickly, stepping between them. “She can help us.”

“Help us?” Brahn’s laugh was bitter, almost hollow. “Do you have any idea what’s at stake here, Torvyn? What could she cost us if you’re wrong?”

Mira stiffened. “If you have something to say about me, say it to me,” he shot back, her voice sharp.

Brahn’s eyes narrowed as he turned fully toward her. “I don’t need to. You don’t have a rebellion in you,” Brahn said, with a hard stare. “You’re a walking scandal, not a fighter.” He glanced back at Torvyn. “You shouldn’t have dragged her into this.”

“She’s not just a her Brahn,” Torvyn said, his voice low. His gaze held Brahn’s steadily. “She’s my sister and the only family I have left. Mira can help us.”

Brahn turned his full attention to Mira. His gaze was sharp, assessing. His jaw worked silently for a moment before he nodded, slowly, as if coming to some unspoken decision. “Then prove it,” he said finally.

Mira blinked, "Prove what?”

“Prove you have a rebellion in you,” Brahn repeated, his words deliberate, his gaze fixed on hers with unrelenting intensity.

Mira lifted her chin, refusing to flinch under his stare. Her heart hammered in her chest. “What do you need?” she asked, her voice clear and unwavering, her resolve unshaken.

For the first time, Brahn’s lips curled into a grin. Not the charming, calm smile she was used to, but something sharper, predatory. “The key to the convoy’s weapons chests,” he said. “Your bonded never lets it out of his sight.” Mira’s hands stayed still at her sides, but a jolt went through her.

“You’re asking me to betray Tharion,” she said, her voice low.

Brahn shrugged, the motion as casual as if he were discussing the weather. “I’m asking you to make a choice,” he said. “If you want to prove you’re ready to stand with us, this is how you do it. Betrayal comes with a rebellion, Mira. If you’re not willing, then you don’t belong here.”

Torvyn stepped forward, his expression torn between anger and concern. “Brahn, this isn’t...”

“She asked what I needed,” Brahn snapped, cutting him off. “This is it.”

Mira’s breath came slower now, measured, though her heart thundered behind her ribs like a war drum.

The key. Tharion’s trust. She could still see him kneeling beside Samir.

He wasn’t the one responsible for this destruction, but he was trying.

It wasn’t changing anything though. She looked at Brahn again.

At the hard glint in his eyes. At Torvyn, who wouldn’t meet her gaze.

And then past them, to the survivors outside.

She inhaled. Slowly. Sharply. “You’re right.”

Torvyn’s head lifted. Brahn’s grin returned, full and razor-edged. Her voice was steady, “This is a choice.” A pause. Her fists uncurled. “You’ll have the key before morning.”

Torvyn’s expression shifted, relief tangled with concern, but he said nothing. Brahn gave a small nod, like a commander acknowledging a soldier’s oath.

The fire crackled louder and Mira turned away before the guilt could root too deeply, before doubt could unmake her choice.

Her boots carried her toward the door. By the time Torvyn fell into step beside her, she didn’t look back. They moved through the shattered streets, the silence pressing between them.

"You don't have to do this, you know," his voice breaking the stillness.

She let out a quiet sigh. "Yes," she replied, her gaze drifting up to the stars. "I do. Not to prove myself. It's for them", Mira gestured to the houses around them.

They continued in silence, the crunch of their boots on shattered stone the only sound between them.

After a while, she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, "When did you know? About Brahn.”

Torvyn glanced down at their feet, his brow furrowed.

“He’s always been passionate,” he began, his voice thoughtful.

“You know he came from the border villages himself. But after the queen died... something in him changed. The villages had always been… worse off, but now they were suffering in ways he couldn’t ignore.

” He paused, his expression softening, a flicker of something between awe and sorrow crossing his face.

“Something in him shifted. He became decisive, focused, strategic. He became a leader.”

Torvyn's voice grew quieter, laced with a bittersweet admiration. “When he asked to bond with me, after all those years, I thought it was a dream finally realized. I thought it meant we could build something together, something lasting. But it turns out it was more than that."

Torvyn paused and took a slow breath. "He was becoming the man I always knew he could be. Strong. Brilliant. Someone the people could follow, someone they would look to and believe in Mira.”

He looked at Mira, his eyes glinting with the faintest sheen of unshed tears.

“That’s who you saw tonight. Not just a leader.

.. but the man I’ve loved all along.” Torvyn’s voice was a quiet murmur beside her.

“I’ve been smuggling him into villages since the Queen died.

He has this ability to rally people. To make them believe in a better tomorrow.

” His words held a deep weight as he carried the burden of every promise made and every sacrifice taken in this war. Mira smiled softly and nodded.

She turned her gaze back to the broken streets ahead, her thoughts clouded. Brahn's presence, his conviction. It was magnetic, even beautiful in its intensity. But it was that same intensity that deep down, unsettled her. A fire could burn as easily as it could light the way.

They turned the corner and froze. Ren stood alone in the narrow street, half-lit from a torch spilling light from somewhere above.

His back was to them, one hand resting against the hilt of his blade, his body unnaturally still.

The air was silent, heavy with the tension that made every breath feel too loud.

For a beat, he stood there still as stone, like he was waiting. He didn’t move.

Mira spoke. “Ren?” He whipped around .

And in the space of a heartbeat, whatever composure he’d held snapped cleanly apart.

The sharp set of his jaw faltered. His eyes found hers and raw emotion rippled across his face.

Relief. Anger. Fear. All of it tangled too tightly to separate.

He crossed the space in three long strides, urgency rippling off him like heat. No words. No hesitation.