he learned that the Inquisition was transporting one of the important captured girls along the highway and his warriors were able to intercept the prison carriage, apparently the girl was connected with someone powerful, so the Inquisition assumed, and judging by the magical traces... Perhaps she was connected with him

Her sobs break through the sounds of battle and clashing metal as his forces assault the prison wagon, their weapons tearing through wood and iron alike as they fight to free her. He pushes forward, ignoring the cries of pain from both his soldiers and those of the enemy. The scent of blood fills his nostrils, but it's not enough to mask the sweet aroma that lingers just beneath it - her fear mingled with something else... desire?

The prison wagon tilts precariously as another one of his warriors takes down an inquisitor, allowing him access. He pauses for a moment, taking in her terror-stricken features before reaching out to steady her. "Fear not," he growls softly. "I am here to free you." His voice echoes through the confined space of the wagon, sending shivers down her spine.

Her

He nods curtly, his gaze intense as he meets hers. "Come," he says gruffly, offering her his hand to help her out of the wagon. "We must make haste." Though it would be a lie to say he does not relish the feel of her tiny fingers entwined with his own... and the spark that seems to pass between them at their contact. He turns to lead her away from the carnage, back toward the cover of the surrounding trees where his other forces wait.

As they run, he can't help but wonder who it was she was connected to before. Perhaps one day he will find out... and make sure they understand that their precious prisoner is now his. For better or for worse.

Her breath comes in short gasps as they jog, the air filling her lungs with each wheeze. She clings to him tightly, grateful for the protection he seems

He casts her a reassuring glance over his shoulder before continuing to lead the way through the trees. "Don't be afraid," he murmurs, the words almost lost in the rustling of leaves and the howl of the wind. "I will protect you." There's truth in those words, but they hold a layer of possessiveness as well... an expectation that she belongs to him now.

As they emerge from the cover of the forest, his forces fall into formation around them. The Inquisitors and their lackeys lie scattered about the battlefield like broken dolls, but there's still a tense atmosphere as everyone readies themselves for whatever comes next. His eyes sweep over the scene, searching... for any sign that her former protector may be close by.

But for now, he focuses on keeping her safe within his embrace. The connection between them thrums with power, almost humming against

"You're safe now," he whispers into her ear, "I promise you." His large hand cups the back of her head possessively as he pulls her closer still, wanting nothing more than to feel her soft skin against his own. For once, they are not connected by a tenuous thread of magic, but by the tangible weight of his arm around her shoulders. He can't help but wonder what this physical closeness feels like for her... and what it might mean for them both in the future.

Their connection hums with power as he holds her, almost as if they are two halves of a whole. It unnerves him just slightly; he has never experienced anything quite like it before. Yet despite his unease, there's no denying that having her so close brings him a measure of calm... and an overwhelming sense of relief. Perhaps this connection is not such a curse after all.

Her shoulders relax slightly as she nestles closer to him, her breath warm against his neck. The tension ebbs from her body like water flowing over stones, leaving behind only a sense of calm and peace that he hasn't felt in... well, longer than he can remember. He allows himself a small smile, grateful for this reprieve even as the ache in his chest grows.

As they stand among his forces, she looks up at him, her expression unreadable beneath the shadow of her lashes. "Who are you?" she whispers, her voice barely more than a whisper. There's an undercurrent of fear there, but also curiosity... and something else that he can't quite place.

He tightens his grip on her slightly, unwilling to let go just yet. "I am Kaerdos," he tells her softly. "And I have come to claim what is mine." Her