Celestial Remnant: The Eternal Ascension

The night was thick with silence, broken only by the crackling of the dying embers in the fireplace. Damian lay awake on the small, firm bed, staring at the wooden beams above him.

Evelyn was curled up on the couch, her breathing slow and steady. She looked peaceful, but he knew better. She never truly let her guard down.

Neither did he.

The weight of what Milo had revealed pressed against his thoughts. Someone from the capital had put a price on his head. Not just any noble, but someone with resources and connections.

That meant they knew who he was.

And if they knew, it was only a matter of time before others found out.

Damian exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. No point dwelling on it now.

Instead, his gaze drifted back to Evelyn. The flickering light of the embers cast shadows over her form, highlighting the curves of her body beneath her loose tunic and leather leggings. She had saved his life, fought beside him, and still hadn't asked for anything in return.

He wasn't used to that.

He wasn't used to her.

Damian sighed, shifting onto his side. Sleep didn't come easy, but eventually, exhaustion won.

---

Morning's Betrayal

The dawn came with a chill, mist clinging to the streets like a second skin. They left the inn before the town fully stirred, keeping to the quieter alleyways.

They needed distance. Redbrook had been useful, but it was compromised.

Evelyn walked ahead, her steps light and precise. "We need supplies," she murmured. "Rations, a fresh horse, and—"

An arrow whistled through the air.

Damian reacted instantly, grabbing Evelyn's arm and yanking her behind the cover of a market stall as the projectile embedded itself in the wooden post beside them.

Assassins.

He barely had time to draw his blade before the first attacker was on him. A masked figure in dark leathers, wielding dual daggers. Fast. Precise.

Damian parried the first strike, twisting his wrist to deflect the second. They weren't amateurs.

Evelyn had already countered her own opponent, ducking beneath a sword swing and driving a knee into the attacker's gut.

More were coming.

Damian turned just in time to block another strike, his blade singing through the air. The assassin stumbled back, and Damian seized the opening—driving his elbow into the man's jaw before finishing with a clean slash across the chest.

The assassin collapsed, blood pooling beneath him.

Evelyn had handled her own opponent just as efficiently, her daggers slick with crimson.

Silence.

The attack had lasted mere moments, but it was a message.

Someone wasn't waiting for bounty hunters to do the job. They wanted him dead now.

Evelyn knelt beside one of the bodies, searching their gear. "No insignia," she muttered. "But these weapons…"

She lifted one of the daggers, inspecting the craftsmanship. "These are forged in the capital."

Damian's jaw tightened. That confirmed it.

Evelyn stood, tossing the dagger aside. "We need to move. Now."

Damian nodded, wiping his blade clean before sheathing it.

Redbrook was no longer safe. Nowhere was.

---

Unraveling the Truth

By midday, they had left Redbrook far behind, riding hard toward the northern reaches. The terrain became rugged, dense forests stretching toward the horizon.

Evelyn rode beside him, her expression unreadable. "You're running out of time," she said.

Damian exhaled. "I know."

She studied him for a long moment. "Tell me, Damian. What did you do in the capital?"

Damian was quiet.

He could lie.

But she had earned more than that.

After a long pause, he finally spoke. "I wasn't just some noble or soldier. I was part of something… bigger."

Evelyn arched an eyebrow. "Go on."

He flexed his fingers against the reins, the memories clawing at the edges of his mind. "I was part of the royal faction—trusted by the previous king. But when the throne changed hands…"

Evelyn's eyes darkened with understanding. "You backed the wrong side."

Damian let out a bitter laugh. "Something like that."

She didn't press further, but the weight of his confession lingered between them.

Finally, she smirked. "Well, that explains why someone wants you dead."

Damian huffed a laugh. "You don't seem too concerned."

Evelyn shrugged. "If I worried about every man with a bounty on his head, I'd never sleep."

He smirked. "Is that why you were awake last night?"

Evelyn shot him a look, but there was amusement in her eyes. "You're lucky I like you."

"Like me, huh?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't push your luck."

---

Crossing the Line

The sun dipped low, casting golden light through the trees. They set up camp near a riverbank, the water reflecting the soft hues of dusk.

Damian sat by the fire, sharpening his blade. Evelyn was beside him, arms resting on her knees.

The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable. It was charged.

Finally, Evelyn spoke. "You trust me?"

Damian looked at her. "Yeah."

Evelyn exhaled, her gaze flickering to the flames. "I don't trust easily."

"I know."

She turned to face him fully, her expression unreadable. "Then why do you?"

Damian considered his words carefully. "Because you're still here."

A beat of silence.

Then Evelyn moved.

Not hesitant. Not uncertain.

She closed the distance between them, one hand gripping his tunic as she pulled him into a kiss.

Damian didn't resist.

The tension that had been building between them finally snapped, and he deepened the kiss, his hand sliding to the small of her back. Firm. Possessive.

Evelyn responded with equal intensity, her fingers threading through his hair as she shifted onto his lap. The firelight cast flickering shadows across their entwined bodies, heat pooling between them.

She pulled back just enough to murmur against his lips, "You're impossible."

Damian smirked. "And you love it."

She didn't deny it.

Their mouths met again, hungrier this time, hands roaming, bodies pressing closer.

There was no hesitation now.

Only need.

Only them.