Our room in the Baron's manor was widely spacious but cold. Despite the fireplace crackling in the corner, I couldn't shake the chill that had settled in my bones since I had met with William.
Valerie sat at the desk, meticulously checking her equipment. Her rapier lay before her, and she was running a whetstone along its edge with like it was something natural for her. The rhythmic scraping sound filled the silence between us.
"You're nervous," she said without looking up.
"Wouldn't you be?"
"I am." She set down the whetstone and held up her blade, examining it in the firelight. "But that's not what I meant. You've been nervous since you saw Knight Stone. Why?"
I should have known she would notice. Some one as sharp as Valerie missed nothing.
"He recognized me," I admitted, sitting on the edge of the bed. "From before."
"Before?"
"Before I changed. When I was..." I struggled with the words. "When I was the person I'm trying not to be anymore."
Valerie sheathed her rapier and turned to face me fully. "What did you do to him?"
There was no judgment in her voice, just curiosity. But that somehow made it worse.
"Everything I could to make his life miserable," I said quietly. "He worked in our stables. I bullied him, humiliated him and made sure he knew his place." The words tasted like ash. "I was cruel because I could be. Because he had nothing and I had everything."
"And now he's a knight, and you're afraid of what he might do."
"I'm afraid he'll see through me. That he'll realize I'm still that same person, just pretending to be better." I looked at her. "I'm afraid he's right."
Valerie stood and walked over to me, sitting down beside me on the bed. "Are you? Still that same person?"
"I don't know. Sometimes I feel like I'm just playing a role. Pretending to be someone worthy of you, worthy of this second chance. And one day everyone will see through it."
In truth I was very terrified because if things went according to the original novel, even with me being with Valerie our fates would sealed and we would undeniably die.
"Chase." She took my hand, her touch warm against my cold skin. "The person you were doesn't matter anymore. What matters is who you choose to be now. Every day, you choose. Tomorrow, you'll choose again."
"What if I choose wrong?"
"Then you choose differently the next day." She squeezed my hand. "But for what it's worth, I don't think you're pretending. The man who trains with me every morning, who studies until his eyes hurt, who holds my hand in the dark—that's real and I can feel it."
I turned to look at her, and found her crimson eyes searching my face.
"I'm terrified," I admitted. "Of tomorrow. Of the dungeon. Of failing you."
"Then we'll be terrified together." She didn't let go of my hand. "Because I'm scared too. Scared of what's in those mountains. Scared of losing people. Scared of..." She trailed off.
"Scared of what?"
"Losing you," she whispered. "I know it's foolish. We've barely been married for a month. But somehow you've become... important. And the thought of you not coming back tomorrow makes me want to call the whole thing off."
My chest tightened. "Valerie—"
"Don't." She pressed a finger to my lips. "Don't say anything reassuring. Don't promise you'll be fine. We both know tomorrow is dangerous. Just... be here with me tonight. That's enough."
So I was. We sat there on the bed, hands intertwined, watching the fire burn down. Eventually, Valerie leaned her head against my shoulder.
"Tell me something," she said softly. "Something true. Something you've never told anyone."
I thought for a moment. "I'm afraid that no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, I'll never be enough. That I'll always be chasing something I can't reach."
"Enough for what?"
"For you. For this life. For the future I want to build."
She was quiet for a long moment. "You're already enough, Chase. You just don't see it yet."
We stayed like that until the fire died to embers, then climbed into bed. Valerie didn't hesitate—she moved close, pressing herself against me, her head on my chest.
"Chase?"
"Yes?"
"If something happens tomorrow—"
"Nothing will happen."
"But if it does," she insisted, "I want you to know... I'm glad it was you. The marriage, I mean. I'm glad my father chose you."
"Valerie—"
"And I'm starting to think..." She took a shaky breath. "I'm starting to think I might be falling for you too."
My heart stopped. Then started again, beating faster than it ever had.
"You don't have to say that," I managed.
"I know. But it's true." She tilted her head up to look at me. "Is that okay?"
"More than okay." I brushed a strand of silver hair from her face. "It's everything."
She smiled—soft and genuine and heartbreakingly beautiful. Then, before I could think, she leaned up and kissed me.
It was soft, tentative, like she wasn't quite sure what she was doing. But it was perfect. Her lips were warm against mine, and for a moment, the world outside—the dungeon, William, the future I was trying to change—all of it faded away.
When she pulled back, her cheeks were flushed. "Was that... okay?"
"Yeah," I breathed. "Definitely okay."
She settled back against my chest, and I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close.
"Goodnight, Chase," she murmured.
"Goodnight, Valerie."
I lay awake long after her breathing evened out into sleep, my mind racing. Tomorrow we'd face the dungeon. Tomorrow I'd work alongside William, the protagonist who hated me. Tomorrow everything could go wrong.
But tonight, I held the woman I loved—and yes, I could admit it now, I loved her—and she had kissed me and said she was falling for me.
Whatever happened tomorrow, I had to survive it and make sure I come back. Because I had just found something worth living for.
---
Dawn came too quickly.
I woke to find Valerie already up, dressed in her armor, checking her equipment one final time. She caught me watching and offered a small smile.
"Sleep well?"
"Better than I expected," I admitted, sitting up. "You?"
"Same." She walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. "About last night—"
"No regrets," I said quickly. "Please tell me you don't regret it."
"No regrets," she confirmed, her cheeks coloring slightly. "I just... wanted to make sure we're okay."
"We're more than okay."
She kissed me again, quick and sweet, then stood. "Get dressed, we're leaving in an hour."
---
The expedition party assembled in the courtyard as the sun broke over the horizon. Twenty fighters total—our guards, William's soldiers, and a few volunteers from the town. Father Aldric, the priest, was an elderly man with kind eyes and steady hands. Sarah, the earth mage, was younger, maybe early twenties, with nervous energy but determined expression.
William stood at the head of the group, checking everyone's equipment with practiced efficiency. When he reached me, his eyes were cold.
"Can you actually use that?" he asked, nodding at my enchanted sword.
"Well enough."
"Well enough might get you killed. Stay in the middle of the formation. Don't try to be a hero."
"I wasn't planning on it."
"Good." He moved on without another word.
Marcus appeared at my side. "Don't let him get to you, young master. He's just doing his job."
"I know. And he has every reason to doubt me."
"Perhaps. But you've proven yourself these past weeks. Trust in that."
Valerie joined us, fully armored and ready. She looked like a warrior goddess—dangerous and beautiful.
"Ready?" she asked.
"As I'll ever be."
William called for attention. "Listen up! The Devil's Throat is a four-hour march from here. We move in formation—soldiers at the front and rear, support in the middle. If we encounter monsters, we hold formation and fight defensively. No heroics, no splitting up. We stay together or we die together. Understood?"
A chorus of affirmatives.
"Then let's move out."
The gates of Ashford opened, and we marched into the morning mist. The town guards watched us go with expressions mixing hope and despair. Baron Ashford stood on the walls, his thin figure a dark silhouette against the rising sun.
As we left civilization behind and entered the wilderness, the atmosphere changed. The air grew heavier, charged with an energy that made my skin prickle. The normal sounds of the forest—birds, insects, rustling leaves—gradually faded until we walked in eerie silence.
"Stay alert," William called back. "We're entering the affected zone."
He was right. The trees around us looked wrong—twisted, their bark darkened as if burned. The ground was scorched in patches, and occasionally I saw bones scattered among the undergrowth. Old kills.
An hour into the march, we encountered our first monster.
It emerged from the tree line without warning—a dire wolf, but it looked wrong. Its body was too long, with an extra set of legs sprouting from its midsection with multiple eyes dotted on it's head, all focused on us with unnatural intelligence.
"Formation!" William shouted.
The soldiers moved with practiced precision, shields up, spears ready. The corrupted wolf circled us, snarling.
Then it charged.
William met it head-on, his sword flashing. The beast was fast, but he was faster. His blade found its neck in a single, precise strike, and the creature fell, twitching.
"Keep moving," William ordered. "Where there's one, there's more."
He was right again. Over the next two hours, we fought off three more attacks—corrupted wolves, twisted bears, even birds with razor-sharp beaks and too many wings. Each battle was brief but intense.
I stayed in the middle of the formation as ordered, but when a wolf broke through the line and lunged at Sarah, I reacted on instinct. My sword came up, flames erupting along the blade, and I met the creature's charge. The fire burned it, and my blade found its heart.
It fell, and I stood there, breathing hard, staring at my first kill.
"Not bad," Marcus said, helping me lower my trembling sword. "First blood, young master."
William glanced back at me, something unreadable in his expression, then turned away.
Finally, after four hours of tense marching and sporadic combat, we crested a ridge and saw it.
The Devil's Throat.
It was a valley between two mountain peaks, and at its center, reality was breaking. The air shimmered and warped, colors bleeding into each other in ways that hurt to look at. At the valley's heart was a tear—a rift in space itself, pulsing with crimson light that matched the rhythm of a heartbeat.
And around the rift, monsters. Dozens of them. Hundreds, maybe. All twisted, corrupted, waiting.
"Gods above," Father Aldric whispered.
William's jaw clenched. "We need to get closer. See if there's a way to collapse the rift before it fully stabilizes."
"That's suicide," one of the soldiers said.
"Then we die trying," William replied. "Because if that rift stabilizes, everything in those mountains comes through. And then Ashford falls. And the towns beyond. And eventually, the kingdom."
He was right. This was the moment. The dungeon outbreak that would devastate the region and forge William into a hero.
Unless I could change it.
"There has to be another way," I said.
Everyone turned to look at me.
"What way?" William asked, challenge in his voice.
I didn't know. The novel had never explained how to close a dungeon rift. But I had to try something.
"Let me think," I said, staring at the pulsing tear in reality.
And prayed that I'd find an answer before it was too late.