──────────────⋆˖☽ ​​​𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒆 ☾˖⋆──────────────

The sheets were a cage, and sleep, a distant shore I couldn’t reach. I was thankful for the wakefulness. Ever since Celia left, my night has been a battleground of tangled limbs and restless thoughts. With a frustrated sigh, I abandoned the fight, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I leaned down, slipping on my boots. Pacing is better than wrestling with ghosts in the dark.

I drifted to the window, peering out into the sleeping dark of Luminethra. Were others awake in this prison, their minds racing in the same frantic circles as mine?

A soft click from the doors lock shattered the silence.

I whirled around, every muscle in my body seizing. It was the dead of night, far too late for visitors. My eyes darted from the empty, rumpled bed back to the door, my hand instinctively finding the familiar hilt of the dagger strapped to my thigh. Emeric? The thought was a shard of ice in my gut. I wouldn’t trust his word for a second.

But the door remained shut. Instead, the faint scuff of a boot on stone receded down the hall. My hand hesitated, trembling slightly, before closing around the cold handle. I gave it a slow, deliberate twist. It turned without resistance. My eyes went wide. Unlocked.

Leaving the door untouched, I scrambled back to my bed, my mind a whirlwind. I pulled on my cloak, its familiar weight a meager comfort, and dropped to the floor. I grabbed my quiver, attaching it to my belt before slinging the cool, smooth wood of my bow over my shoulder. This had to be a setup. Who unlocked the door? Celia? Was this a misguided attempt to help me, or was she leading me into a trap? A single unlocked door could be a mistake. Twice was an invitation.

I snatched my pack from the floor, slinging it over my other shoulder. It didn’t matter. This was my chance, my only chance, and I had to take it. Come what may.

Taking a deep, steadying breath that did little to calm the tremor in my hands, I pulled the door open a crack. The candlelight in the hall writhed, casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to claw at the walls. The footsteps were already fading down the corridor, moving away from me. 

I slipped into the hall, a ghost in the guttering light, my eyes scanning every shadow, every alcove.

Footsteps.

Closer this time, and heading my way. I froze, my heart leaping into my throat. My gaze shot to a nearby window draped in heavy curtains—a flimsy hiding spot at best. The footsteps paused just around the corner. I held my breath, the air burning in my lungs, praying to be invisible.

After a moment that stretched for an eternity, the steps resumed, moving away in a different direction. The tremor in my hands finally began to settle. Exhaling in a silent, shaky rush, I pressed on, my boots whispering on the marble until I reached the top of the main staircase. The grand landing below was unnervingly still.

I started my descent, placing each foot with painstaking care. Halfway down, a floorboard creaked loud enough to wake a sleeping dragon. It wasn’t my own. It came from the landing above me. Then, the sound of footsteps, quickening, thundering from behind.

Thought dissolved into raw panic. I threw stealth to the wind and dashed down the remaining stairs, my chest heaving with ragged breaths. At the bottom, I rounded a sharp corner and pressed myself into the deep shadows of an archway, hoping the darkness would swallow me whole.

The silence shattered. Before I could register the movement, a large figure materialized from the darkness in front of me. My hand flew toward my bow, but an unyielding grasp clamped around my wrist, slamming it against the wall. A shock of pain rattled up to my shoulder, stealing my breath. I tried to wrench free, to reach for my dagger with my other hand, but he caught that one too, pinning me completely.

His hard body pressed me into the wall. I tensed, ready to drive a knee into his groin, but a deep, familiar voice rasped beside my ear. “Shhh.”

His breath was a warm touch against my cheek. “Trying to escape again, are we?”

My eyes shot up to his face, illuminated by a distant candle. Emeric. Again. Had he seen me the other night?

Every muscle in my body locked. The flickering light danced in his emerald eyes, which were fixed on me, seeming to burn straight through to my soul. “Don’t move,” he murmured, his voice a bare whisper, “or we’ll both be caught.”

We? A tremor I couldn’t control started in my hands. He was incredibly strong. As the approaching footsteps from the stairs grew louder, he glanced down at me, a wicked, wolfish grin spreading across his face.

A guard rounded the corner, froze, and let out a startled, “Oh! Apologies,” before turning on his heel and hurrying away. My mind reeled. He hadn’t been hiding from the guard; he had been waiting for him. The whole thing was a performance. The moment the footsteps faded, Emeric pushed himself off the wall, releasing my wrists. The sudden freedom was almost as disorienting as being captured.

He stared at me, and the playful facade was gone, replaced by a burning hatred I could feel like a physical heat. Goosebumps prickled my arms.

“Why?” I demanded, forcing my voice to stay level, straightening my spine to meet his intimidating frame. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because I don’t want you here,” he snarled, stepping closer until his shadow eclipsed the candlelight. “And if I can’t deal with you the way I truly want, then I would rather you be gone from Luminethra altogether. Take the rot you carry inside you and leave.” His voice dropped to a low threat. “But do not bring harm to the people here.”

“I won’t harm anyone,” I spat. “The people here have done nothing wrong!” Except befriend monsters like you, I thought, biting the words back.

“Good.” He gave a slight, sharp nod. “Mikaeus believes that locking you up, granting you morsels of freedom, will eventually break you. He’s a fool.” A flicker of pure contempt crossed his face. “Your will is a stubborn, sharp-edged thing. You will never stop trying to escape.”

He was right. A bitter heat flooded my veins. As much as we despised each other, he saw me clearly, and I hated him for it. My fists clenched at my sides. “Then I will leave,” I said, shoving the thought aside. “I swear, no one will be harmed.”

“Then go,” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “And hold on to that will of yours. You won’t survive otherwise.”

Without another word, he shoved past me, his shoulder knocking hard into mine, and disappeared into the darkness from which he came. I stood alone for a moment, A frantic beat echoed in the hollow cavern of my chest, the phantom pressure of his grip still on my wrists.

“By the moons,” I whispered to the empty hall, My resolve calcified, becoming sharp and brittle as bone.

I moved quickly, finally reaching the massive front doors. I pushed one open just enough to slip through, and the crisp, damp night air washed over me. Above, there was no sign of a storm, only a light, cleansing drizzle. Good.

I shut the heavy door without a sound and broke into a run, my feet pounding on the path that wound through the sleeping town. The veins of crystal embedded in the earth glowed with a soft inner light, guiding my way. In the faint moonlight, the great, scaled forms of dragons rested peacefully on manicured lawns. Most homes were dark, but here and there, a warm light glowed from a window—a small sign of life in the quiet night.

A house door swung open ahead. I immediately slowed my run to a brisk, purposeful walk—acting suspicious would get me caught now. A figure emerged, but thankfully, they didn’t even glance my way as they bent to gather firewood. I slipped past them, my gaze fixed on the distant masts I hoped I would see.

A wild, fierce hope bloomed in my chest. I’m going to make it. I’m actually going to get out of here.

The harbor was vast, the sharp, clean scent of salt and sea filling my lungs. Long wooden docks stretched out over the dark placid water. My boots made hollow sounds on the damp planks. I took a deep, shuddering breath. I could finally go home.

My eyes swept the docks, searching, and the hope inside me shattered. My heart plummeted into the icy pit of my stomach. There was nothing. Not a single dinghy, not one fishing skiff, not even a rowboat. The harbor was completely, utterly bare. Mikaeus hadn’t been lying.

Panic, cold and sharp, clawed at my throat. No. What now? I shoved it down, refusing to give in. An idea sparked. The fight with the Ashen Vow. Perhaps a ship was damaged, and some wreckage—or a boat—had washed ashore further down the coast.

Clinging to that fragile hope, I turned from the empty harbor and headed down the beach, the sand sucking at my boots, my eyes tracing the dark silhouette of the mountains ahead. That’s when I felt it. The unnerving prickle on the back of my neck. Every hair on my arms stood on end.

Someone was watching me.

My gaze darted across the dark shoreline, and then I saw it. Tucked into the deep shadows between two rocky outcrops was a small boat, bobbing gently on the tide. Relief surged through me, so powerful it almost brought me to my knees, but it died just as quickly.

A shadow detached itself from the boat’s side. It wasn’t a shadow. It was a figure, and it was walking, slowly and deliberately, right toward me.

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𝓓𝓸𝓷’𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓪𝓭𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓫𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓵𝓲𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓼𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾’𝓵𝓵 𝓫𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓽 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓻𝓸𝓹𝓼. 𝓐𝓼 𝓪𝓵𝔀𝓪𝔂𝓼, 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓫𝓵𝓮 𝓼𝓾𝓹𝓹𝓸𝓻𝓽!