Page 19 of Unravelled
Soft voices pulled her from the haze of sleep. She kept her body still, the fire’s warmth brushing against her knees.
“You saw her tonight,” Ren murmured quietly. “She remembered. Not pieces. That crossbow shot was all her.” Mira’s chest tightened. She could hear the smile.
Tharion’s low voice followed, “She’s always been in there. Even afterwards.” Another silence. Heavier. "She’s not ready.” Tharion's voice stammered.
"There might not be a choice much longer, The Navigators will decide eventually..." A low sound of agreement.
Mira strained to catch the words. They were both whispering so quietly she could barely tell who was speaking.
“If you push this if it all comes back at once, she won’t survive it...” The fire popped, and she shifted.
Tharion cleared his throat. "We should get ready to move."Ren made a vague sound, neither agreement nor denial.
Mira heard the soft clatter of gear and the rustle of worn packs as the two men began gathering their things. They knew. Both of them. And they were keeping her in the dark. Why did Ren know but she didn’t? Tharion called out to Ren again, this time loud enough for Mira to hear,.
"Mira rides with me."
A moment later, footsteps retreated, leaving her alone with the quiet.
She kept her head down for a beat longer, inhaling trying to center herself.
The anger simmered, low and steady beneath her skin, but she forced it down.
They had people to move. They needed to get home. Now was not the time for confrontation.
She sat up, rolling her shoulders, shaking off the lingering ache from the fight. The air was already warming, the kind that tasted like the hot summer buzz. Around her, the others moved quietly, voices low as they secured their gear and strapped down what little they had left.
Mira rose, gathering herself. She took the half-empty canteen from beside her bedroll and poured the remaining water over the fire, listening to the soft hiss as steam curled up into the morning light.
The embers darkened, the last warmth fading.
She tucked away the anger behind her ribs as neatly as the supplies on their carts.
She spotted Tharion by the horses, tightening a strap. His jaw set in that focused, too-still way that meant he wasn’t really thinking about what he was doing. She crossed to him, silent until her boots crunched softly over the dried grass. He didn’t look up.
“Good Morning,” she said, voice calm. Tharion’s hand paused on the saddle. He turned just slightly, eyes meeting hers.
“Morning." He paused " I know you heard us.” The words were simple. Not accusing. Not apologetic.
Mira nodded once, slow. His eyes searched hers, checking, maybe, for how much she’d taken in. How much she understood. All she gave him was anger, clear and steady, burning just beneath the surface. He looked away first, adjusting the saddle strap with a last tug. “We’ll talk more privately”
“Fine,” she said. A beat passed.
His voice was soft, almost careful. Without looking at her, he asked, “Are you alright after yesterday?”
Her throat tightened. The memory of yesterday twisted through her chest. Grief, guilt, a helpless fury. She shoved it down, burying it“Yes.” A lie.
She moved toward Tharion’s horse, expecting to mount behind him as usual.
But before she could reach for the stirrup, Tharion was already moving, swinging up into the saddle with practiced ease, his silhouette steady against the rising morning light.
She paused, confused for a half breath, until he turned, reached down, and extended a hand to her.
No words. Just an open palm. Not commanding. Not coaxing. Just offering. Her gaze flicked to his face, but he gave nothing away. She placed her hand in his. His grip shifted in an instant, sliding to her waist and with one fluid pull, he hauled her up into the saddle in front of him.
She landed lightly, instinctively bracing herself, but his arm was already there.
Strong and steady around her. Her breath caught as his body settled close, his chest firm against her back, the warmth of him soaking through theanger.
His arms moved to collect the reins, one on either side of her.
?? ?
The convoy moved slowly. Wounded riders.
Weak horses. Wagons rigged with salvaged wheels and fraying ropes.
They kept to the treeline, following a winding path that cut through low hills and over ridges.
The hush of early morning, of grief settling thick over the road.
Mira sat still, tucked into Tharion’s body as they rode at the rear of the line.
Mira’s gaze drifted over the line of weary riders ahead.
Over the hollow-eyed people, the stretchers, the damaged but functional carts.
A heavy cloak of silence settled on them, each stifled sob an echo of their pain.
She exhaled slowly, pressing her spine a little deeper into Tharion’s chest. His breath shifted against the crown of her head. A soft inhale.
The horse shifted beneath them, jolting slightly over uneven terrain.
Tharion snaked an arm around her. Mira sucked in a sharp breath, a startled sound escaping before she could bite it back.
Pain flared sharp and hot where the blade had sliced through her yesterday, a brutal reminder that her body was still catching up to her mind.
Tharion froze. The reins went taut for half a second before he pulled them to a halt. His grip softened, his touch becoming featherlight, afraid to cause her more pain. He shifted in the saddle to look at her side.
“You’re hurt.” The words slipped out, sharp with sudden realization.
"You don’t say." Mira forced a smirk, though it was tight.
Tharion exhaled through his nose, his jaw tightening. "Mira, you should’ve told me." He traced his fingers just above the wound, through the tear in her shirt, careful but assessing. His expression darkened. "You're bleeding." Mira gritted her teeth.
"It’s fine. Just a scratch. There were more serious wounds to tend to"
Tharion’s eyes bore into her wound, "You're bleeding, Mira. That’s not fine "
Before she could argue, he was already reaching for bandages from his horse's pack.
He slowly raised her shirt up to the wound.
He moved with practiced efficiency, looping it around her waist, tying it off just tight enough to stop the bleeding.
His fingers never lingered for a second longer than necessary, his touch warm even as he lowered her clothes back.
Tharion met her gaze, his voice quieter this time.
"You can tell me when you're in pain..."The words landed harder than she expected, striking a place she'd fought to keep sealed. To avoid wanting. Without another word, he nudged the horse forward.
The silence stretched between them, thick with all the things neither of them dared say. The steady rhythm of the horse's hooves filled the space instead, a hollow sound against the brittle quiet of the morning. Mira let it go on, her thoughts looping back to the questions she couldn't ignore.
She turned her head slightly, catching the sharp lines of his face in her peripheral vision. "Why do you and Ren seem to know more than I do?"
Tharion’s voice came again, low. “We didn't mean for you to hear that.”
She didn’t respond right away. Her fingers curled lightly over his arm. “But I did,” she said turning back to the road. He shifted behind her, just slightly. Enough for her to feel the tension in his chest.
Tharion sighed, “We didn’t know what had happened,” he started. “What the punishment took, what it left behind?” Mira’s throat tightened. The road curved, and their horse adjusted without command. She stared ahead, jaw set.
“It's our memories Tharion, I deserve to know,” she said, quiet but firm. Tharion sighed. A warm wind tugged at his cloak. Trees passed like ghosts in the early light.
"It wasn’t only the memories of the bond that were contained, Mira," he confessed.
"What happened... it wasn’t... clean." Mira’s stomach turned.
"Bonds can’t be broken," he said, his voice rough.
"But the memory of them can be." His hands flexed once on the reins.
"Sarelle's punishment didn’t just contain the memories. It carved through them. Through you."
Mira stared ahead, her jaw locking tight. Rage coiled hot beneath her ribs, sharp enough to burn. "But you knew," she said, voice low and shaking. "You and Ren.You bothknew, and said nothing." Her fingers curled into fists against her thighs. "Why?"
Tharion paused, trying to find the right words. She felt the tension in him, in the way his hand twitched on the reins.
“We don’t know everything,” he admitted. “But there’s a power in a bond. And we think they were afraid of what it would become if it grew unchecked. Especially given the extra time it had to develop.”
Mira's anger still burned, but underneath it, something else broke through. She heard the way his voice roughened, in the careful distance he kept. He hadn’t been hiding the truth to betray her.
He’d been trying to protect her from it.
Like he had said all along. She exhaled slowly, the fight draining out of her ribs, leaving only the ache.
She turned her head slightly, catching him over her shoulder.
"You were afraid I wouldn’t survive remembering it," she said softly. Mira gave a faint, smile, more tired than angry.
"I still am." he whispered.
"But I can," she replied, her voice steady."You don’t have to protect me." Her chest and ribs ached.
She turned slowly, shifting just enough to meet his eyes fully. They were shadowed beneath his brow, tired. But not cold. Not unkind. Just… exhausted. And before she could stop herself, before she could think it through, she leaned in and pressed her mouth to his. A soft, seeking kiss. Gentle.