Shit.
Shit.
SHIT.
Frustration and fear welled up as his presence drew closer. But there was one thing he didn't know—what he couldn't know. My will was iron. Nothing would break me. Nothing... except this.There was something about him that gnawed at me, that I couldn't explain. Every instinct told me to resist, but it was more than fear. It was something deeper, something that twisted in my chest whenever he was near.I had faced reapers before—cold, unfeeling death-bringers, machines of fate. They never troubled me.But Vaelen… he was different.His presence thickened the air, the shadows creeping closer as if alive. It wasn't just fear; it was a visceral, instinctive response, something that made my blood run cold.
I'd always fought—always outran death. The curse that had claimed my mother and aunts had been a cruel joke, one I'd spent years trying to escape. But the gods were merciless, their games never-ending. Asshats, all of them. Mocking me as their reapers trailed me, and no matter how fast I ran, they were always at my heels.
Now, as I shoved through the brush, every breath felt like fire, each movement an agonizing effort. My muscles screamed, but my resolve burned brighter. I had outrun death too many times for this to be the end. The gods wanted me, but hell if I was going to let them claim me today.
A sharp pain shot up my leg as a thick tree root snaked out from the ground, catching my foot. My heart pounded, but I fought through it. I wasn't finished. Not while I still had breath in me.
And then, the air shifted, like it was holding its breath. I froze, every instinct screaming at me that he was near. Shit. His shadow hung at the edge of my awareness, watching, waiting, ready to drag me into his cold embrace.
I turned. And There he was.
A figure stood in the moonlight, tall and unwavering, like something carved from stone. His presence was overpowering, radiating a kind of strength that was both beautiful and dangerous. Dark hair framed his face, falling in loose waves, while his sharp jawline hinted at something ruthless, something unyielding. But it was his eyes—twin amber flames—that struck me hardest, cold and unblinking. They pierced through me, searching me, holding me captive with a gaze that froze me in place.
Damn these gods and their twisted games... He was beautiful, and that only made him more dangerous. But beauty meant nothing. He wasn't here for me to admire. He was here to claim me, to drag me somewhere I couldn't even begin to imagine.
And yet, despite everything, something stirred deep within me—a feeling I wasn't ready to face, or perhaps, one I wasn't willing to acknowledge.