As the world faded to black, the last sensation I had was the weight of my body being lifted—slumped over a pair of broad shoulders. The rhythmic pounding of boots against the earth was the only tether to reality before it slipped away completely.
I tried to focus, but my vision blurred, the edges of my awareness fraying like a torn rope. My head knocked loosely against Veravos's back with every stride, each step an unyielding reminder of where he was taking me. The frantic shouts of the guards grew fainter, swallowed by the creeping darkness.
The mangrove forest. The same cursed woods where Edna died.
Her scream sliced through my thoughts, a jagged shard in my mind. But I couldn't process it. The darkness had a grip on me, pressing down on my chest—thick, suffocating—pulling me further from myself. Something stirred in the blackness, rising to meet me.
"Murderer."
Doverel's voice echoed in my mind, sharp and unforgiving. It reverberated through my skull, louder than the fading footsteps of the guards. The word repeated, over and over, until it became a sickening mantra. Murderer.
That's what I was. There was blood on my hands, stains I could never scrub away. But the worst part? I didn't feel sad.
Doverel had died in a stampede, but her soul had been crushed long before that. It was the day she chose obedience over instinct. Over truth. And Edna? Her body twisted beyond recognition, her life snuffed out in an instant.
I had watched. Powerless. Helpless.
I hadn't moved. My magic had turned cold, useless, a distant memory.
And now, as Veravos's steady pace carried me deeper into the woods, the shame gnawed at me, a constant reminder of my weakness. I wasn't a hero. I wasn't even pretending to be. I was just a girl running from the consequences of the choices I had made, caught in a cycle of fear and guilt.
His hands gripped my body, holding me against him—a reminder of my helplessness. But even as my strength failed, my will to survive remained.
I would not be the next meal for Veravos, The Villain Hunter.
Was binding myself to him through a contract a wise decision? Only time would tell.
But for now, I wasn't done. I was still running. Still escaping. No matter how far I ran, though, my fate was now tied to his. His cold, dangerous presence wrapped around me like a chain—an invisible bond I could never sever.
Our fates were tied.
I wasn't sure if that meant my doom or my salvation, but for now, I had to fight. To survive. To be more than some fragile thing waiting to be saved. I wasn't weak. I had power—though it was buried beneath layers of guilt and fear. It was still there, even if I couldn't feel it right now.
Then, the world shifted again. The air grew colder, but the suffocating pressure in my chest began to ease. Though I couldn't see, I could feel the faint echo of Veravos's presence, looming like a storm on the horizon.
His magic and mine.
Two forces tangled together, whether I wanted it or not.
I was tethered to him. That was my life now.