Kiernan moved swiftly but cautiously through the twisted, half-collapsed tunnels of Roe's compound, the unconscious Talia cradled carefully in his arms.
The faint lantern light barely illuminated his path, their flickering shadows playing tricks on his vision.
He paused momentarily to assess Talia's condition, gently laying her down to inspect her wound.
The bullet had torn through her thigh, leaving an ugly, ragged hole that oozed dark blood. Kiernan worked quickly, pulling a field dressing from his kit. Talia stirred weakly, her eyelids fluttering briefly in pain.
"Easy," Kiernan whispered soothingly, administering a local sedative to numb the area. "This should help for now."
His paws moved with practiced precision, dressing her injury swiftly. A faint tremor passed through him as memories stirred, distant but sharp, of another time he'd desperately tried, and failed, to save someone he cared for. He shook the thought away, refocusing.
"Just hold on," he muttered to himself, more reassurance than command. "We'll get you back safe."
Years of careful discipline steadied his paws. Kiernan was no stranger to chaos or loss. Born and raised within the shadowy alleys of Rat City's Ruined Quarter before it fell into chaos those months ago, back when it was simply one of many housing quarters.
Kiernan had grown up scrappy, resourceful, and cautious. His family scraped by on the fringes, always one meal away from hunger, and when he was barely a teenager, Kiernan lost both his parents during a violent conflict between rival factions, an early casualty in the city's turmoil.
He owed much of his stability to Edgar, who'd found him scrounging in the alley behind his bakery, half-starved and orphaned.
Edgar's gentle strength had guided him toward the Rat King's service, shaping him into a guard who quietly excelled at keeping others alive, his way of paying forward the kindness that had saved him.
Kiernan stood, satisfied with Talia's condition, He lifted her gently again, shifting her weight evenly before setting off once more. As he pressed onward through the shadows, his resolve hardened. He had served the king nearly a decade and had not let him down, he would see to it that the trend wouldn't change tonight either.
With slow, deliberate strides, Kiernan navigated the hazardous pathways, debris crunching quietly underfoot, the ruins of the once-great Quarter looming ominously around him.
He pressed onward, pushing past exhaustion, driven by urgency and duty. He knew that soon the tunnels would give way to broader avenues, and the faint glow of the Lantern Archway would welcome him, its soft illumination promising safety ahead.
He quickened his pace, heart lifting slightly as familiar landmarks began to emerge through the lingering haze. The tension in his shoulders eased incrementally as he approached the edge of the Market District, where the Rat King's posted guards patrolled vigilantly.
"Hey!" Kiernan called out, relief evident in his voice. Two guards quickly approached, their eyes widening when they saw Talia's limp form draped across Kiernan's back.
"What happened?" one guard demanded, taking position beside Kiernan, ready to assist.
"She's wounded," Kiernan replied breathlessly. "Gunshot. We need to get her to the palace infirmary, fast."
"Understood," the second guard responded, signaling to another pair of guards nearby. "We'll escort you there. Let's move."
With the guards providing support, Kiernan adjusted Talia again, stepping forward into the more populated streets. Lanterns illuminated storefronts and homes, familiar yet surreal in the late-night quiet. They moved quickly, passing by a familiar street Kiernan knew all too well. As his eyes briefly caught sight of The Rusted Fang in the distance, a fleeting memory stirred within him, though the significance of the place tonight belonged entirely to Talia.
She shifted weakly against Kiernan's back, murmuring incoherently as memories stirred within her fevered, pain-hazed mind. The sedative had numbed her pain, but also lowered her defenses, allowing thoughts and emotions to surface. Her eyes flickered open briefly, catching the familiar sight of the Rusted Fang before drifting closed again, she muttered a single "Matias," before surrendering herself to the vivid memory that enveloped her.
The night Matias walked her home from this very place...
They walked in silence beneath the flickering glow of street lanterns, their shadows stretching out long and distorted along the cobblestone path. The noise from the Rusted Fang had long faded into a muted memory, leaving only the quiet shuffle of their footsteps against stone. Talia stole glances at Matias, her eyes sharp with curiosity, yet guarded by the unspoken years wedged between them.
Finally, the tension became too much for her to bear. She drew a slow breath, breaking the brittle silence. "Matias, what's really going on?"
Matias glanced sideways, ears flicking slightly. "What do you mean?"
Talia sighed in frustration. "You. Castin. The Gunrunners. What's your real reason for joining up? You're not exactly the type to chase coin with Roe's scum."
Matias looked away, his gaze fixed somewhere in the shadows ahead. "We needed information. Intel. There's a lot more going on in this city than you realize."
Talia stopped suddenly, eyes narrowed, her tail flicking irritably. "That's all you've got? 'We needed intel?' You vanished, Matias. Gone for years. Then you show up again in that hole, the Rusted Fang, and before that you barely remembered my name."
Matias hesitated, his expression faltering. "Talia, I didn't—"
She cut him off sharply, hurt bleeding into anger. "You didn't what, Matias? Didn't forget me? So what, we just do what we did, and that was it? I don't hear from you again for years, and you hesitate trying to say my name?"
Matias stared at her, confusion knitting his brows together. "Do what we did? What are you talking about?"
Talia let out a bitter, incredulous laugh. "Really, Matias? Sex! I'm talking about sex. What we did that night. Did you forget that, too?"
Matias went completely still, his gaze fixed on the ground. The silence stretched painfully between them, taut as a bowstring. Talia stepped closer, her voice quieter, probing. "What, Matias?"
He finally raised his eyes, his voice low, strained. "It's not like that. You know it was never like that."
Talia scoffed softly, her defense still up, but a tremor in her voice betrayed vulnerability. "Then what was it like, Matias? Tell me, because apparently, I don't know."
Matias abruptly stopped walking. Talia took a few more steps forward before realizing he wasn't beside her. She turned around, meeting his intense gaze, the weight of years and unspoken words settling heavily between them.
"I've never loved anyone like I loved you," Matias finally admitted, his voice breaking slightly, raw with sincerity. "I never forgot you. Do you have any idea how hard I fought not to abandon my post, my duty, my entire life just to lose myself in you, Talia?"
Talia felt her heart stutter, the barriers she'd raised crumbling with every earnest word he spoke.
"Why would you say that, Matias?" she whispered, her voice shaking as tears pricked her eyes. "Do you know how hard it was moving on?"
Matias closed the distance between them, pulling her into his arms, his lips capturing hers in a deep, passionate kiss.
When he finally drew back, just enough to breathe, his voice was barely more than a whisper against her lips. "Of course I know how hard it was. I never was able to."
Talia felt her last defenses melt away as she wrapped her arms and tail tightly around him, pulling him into another fierce kiss. Her heart raced, breath ragged as she murmured softly against his mouth, eyes half-lidded with longing.
The sound of Kiernan pushing through the palace infirmary doors jostled Talia from her haze, the wooden frame rattling softly as medics quickly moved forward to relieve him of his burden. Talia's limp form was carefully placed onto a clean bed, surrounded instantly by quiet but urgent voices.
Kiernan stepped back, exhausted but relieved, watching as the medics began their practiced routine, hands steady and gentle.
"You did good, Kiernan," a medic reassured him softly, placing a gentle paw on his shoulder. "Get some rest now. We've got her."
As Kiernan nodded weakly, turning to leave, Talia stirred slightly beneath the soft lights of the infirmary. Her eyelids fluttered briefly, lips parting to whisper a single, faint word:
"Matias..."
The past returned to her vividly, warm and alive.
Inside her modest home, Talia barely noticed the familiar furnishings or comforting scents as she closed the door, her focus entirely consumed by the man before her. Matias stood uncertainly near the threshold, eyes gentle yet clouded with years of regret and longing.
"You can come in, you know," she teased softly, masking her vulnerability with a playful edge. "You've seen it all before."
The room was quiet, filled only with the soft rustling of fabric and uneven breaths as Talia guided Matias inside, shutting the door quietly behind them. The faint glow of lanterns from the street illuminated their silhouettes, casting gentle shadows across the walls.
She reached up slowly, running her fingers along the collar of his shirt, hesitating just for a moment as her eyes met his. The heat of unresolved years smoldered between them, powerful enough to drown every doubt and hesitation.
Matias cupped her cheek gently, thumb brushing across her jawline as he tilted her face upwards. When their lips met again, it was slow and deep, each kiss heavy with the weight of longing and regret.
Talia's paws found their way to the buttons of his shirt, she ran her paws up, unbuttoning each one leaving his chest exposed. She ran her fingertips from just above his belt line to his chest and eventually slid Matias' shirt from his shoulders letting it drop forgotten to the floor.
Her breath caught softly as Matias leaned in, his kisses trailing from her lips down to the curve of her neck, causing her heart to race and pulse to quicken beneath his touch. She whispered unsteadily, her voice thick with emotion, "I hated you for leaving."
Matias paused, briefly pulling back to meet her eyes, regret shimmering in his gaze. But he said nothing, not yet, instead pressing his lips tenderly back to hers, silencing her gently with the promise of healing.
Talia surrendered into him, the tension in her shoulders easing as she felt his warm paws moving slowly down her back, peeling away layers of clothing as though carefully uncovering something precious.
They moved together toward the bed, guided only by instinct and memory. Clothing fell away piece by piece, each discarded garment another barrier dismantled. Soon she stood before him entirely exposed, her fur catching the faint glow of the lanterns, vulnerability and strength intertwined. Matias gazed at her, at a loss for words as he drank everything in.
Talia stood still, allowing him to truly see her, every scar, every graceful curve, every mark that spoke of battles fought and lost. She held her breath as his eyes swept slowly over her, afraid yet desperately needing this moment of honesty between them.
He stepped forward, gently pulling her into his arms, whispering softly against her ear, his voice thick with emotion, "I know... I hated myself for leaving too."
She shivered slightly in his embrace, tears pricking the corners of her eyes as relief washed over her, finally allowing the walls around her heart to crumble.
Their lips met once more, softer now, each kiss filled with reassurance and forgiveness, the heat of passion gradually melting like iron in a white hot forge. Their whispered voices filled the quiet space, intermittently tense and tender as they confronted their shared past, their regrets bleeding openly into vulnerability.
Talia took in Matias's form before her eyes lowered and stopped at his groin, "At least some things never change," Matias' fur bristled as he embraced Talia again, his erection pressing against her.
They clung to each other, memories mixing with whispered promises, arguments dissolving into forgiveness, bitterness replaced slowly with healing. Matias positioned himself alongside Talia in the bed, his paw running up the length of her thigh as he kissed her again. His fingers gently tracing her womanhood as he began to bring her up to speed.
The lantern light casting a tangled mess of shadows onto the wall mirroring their own knot.
Talia moaned under the pressure of Matias' attentive fingers, her tail slipping its way up Matias' thigh matching the same route he had taken himself as it wrapped around the length of his member.
Minutes passed as they writhed in synchronous pleasure before Matias stopped and moved onto his knees, positioning himself in front of Talia.
He gently prepared himself to enter eyes locked with Talia's.
Their breathing short and shallow as they prepared for the ecstasy of the coming moment.
Matias slowly brought himself inside inch by inch bringing himself to his hilt as Talia let out a soft low breath.
His body moved with hers as naturally as breathing, mirroring the aching intimacy of their conversation, each thrust an apology for time missed, each burst of pleasure a vow renewed.
Talia could feel Matias' position shifting as he moved closer to his limit.
"Talia," Matias groaned.
"Talia?" a soft voice murmured gently, pulling her from the comforting depths of memory. "Can you hear me?"
Her eyelids flickered open painfully, the harsh lights of the infirmary briefly disorienting her. A medic stood by her bedside, a gentle, reassuring expression on her face. Talia groaned softly, pain returning sharply as reality pushed its way back in.
"Matias..." she whispered weakly again, desperately searching the medic's face. "Where...?"
The medic gently squeezed her paw, offering a kind smile. "He's still out there, with Castin and the others. They went to Roe's compound. But I promise, we'll send word you are alright as soon as possible. You just rest now."
Talia nodded weakly, eyelids heavy once more. Anxiety lingered faintly beneath the medic's reassurances, knowing Matias was still out there, risking everything. But she allowed herself to relax slightly, comforted at least by the knowledge that she had finally been able to say what mattered.
And now, as sleep drew her back down, she clung to the fragile but powerful hope that this time, Matias would return to her, and the long years of silence would finally end.