scarred by the Alpher, claimed by his touch.

Caidren moved with purpose, cradling Elias's limp form against his chest as he strode toward his horse. Snow clung to the boy's hair, his lashes, his too-pale lips. His body was ice-cold, far too light in Caidren's arms.

Still breathing.

But barely.

Caidren had seen death before. He knew how thin the thread was.

Knew how close Elias was to falling over the edge.

And that knowledge sent something sharp and unwanted twisting in his chest.

But before he could lift Elias into the saddle, a hand clamped down on his arm.

Dain.

His grip was firm, his smirk sharp as ever, but there was something beneath it—something calculating.

"You're awfully quick to save him," Dain mused. "Strange, considering how little he's supposed to matter."

Caidren's jaw locked. "Move."

Dain didn't.

Instead, he tilted his head, eyes glinting with amusement. "Tell me, my lord," he said, voice mocking, "how does it feel to care?"

Caidren's patience snapped.

In one fluid motion, he shifted Elias's weight to one arm and grabbed Dain by the front of his cloak, yanking him forward. Their faces were inches apart, breath steaming in the frozen air.

"I don't care," Caidren said, voice low, deadly. "This is not about him."

Dain raised a brow. "No?"

Caidren's grip tightened.

"I don't tolerate waste," he ground out. "They sent him out here to die for no reason. That is incompetence. And I do not abide incompetence."

Dain chuckled. "Ah. Of course. You're just being practical."

Caidren shoved him back, turning toward his horse.

Dain stumbled, but his smirk never wavered. He watched, arms crossed, as Caidren adjusted Elias in the saddle.

Then—soft, amused—he said, "It's not about waste, Caidren. If it were, you wouldn't be this angry."

Caidren froze.

The wind howled between them, cutting sharp as a blade.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, finally—

Caidren mounted his horse, settling Elias's unconscious form against him.

Without looking back, he said, "You talk too much, Dain."

And with that, he spurred his horse forward, vanishing into the snow.

Dain watched him go, shaking his head with quiet laughter.

"Denial," he murmured to himself. "How entertaining."

Then, with a sigh, he followed.