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And, because of it, she knew for certain she was fleeing from a Duskwalker rather than a slithery octopus.Oh fuck. Here he comes.

Emerie had to veer to the right when a medium-sized Demon rustled through the forest. She was attracting them with the scent of her blood, but there was little she could do about it. Even if she didn’t have them, her pleasant dip in the swamp water would have cleaned her of Ingram’s scent anyway.

The cool wind cut through her soaked clothing. She thought it might tear where it stuck to her while she ran as hard as she could, trying to limit her movements. Her hood had partially slipped back just enough to allow some of her long hair to wrap around her neck and face, but she didn’t dare swipe it away in case that somehow slowed her.

Just as Ingram was upon her, so was the Demon.

The Duskwalker tackled it, intending to destroy it so he didn’t have to share his food, his prey – her.

She thought all hope was lost. It had to be. There was nothing that could save her now.

Something glowing in the distance caught her eye. Was it hope or more disaster? At this point, who cared? It wassomething, so she headed for it.

The closer she got, the more glittering green illuminated the forest from the very ground – like the earth itself was glowing. Even as she freely passed through a transparent green dome with some kind of nautical star pattern on it, she didn’t stop.

There was nothing in the world that would have stopped Emerie from running right then. Not her pain, not her panicked and huffing breaths, not the burning muscles in her legs, nor the stitch in her side that told her she couldn’t maintain her pace for much longer without collapsing.

She was in the middle of the Veil, surrounded by monsters, and her absolute favourite one was back on her trail. In a few seconds, she was about to be dead.

Ahead of her, the trees opened up. Ahousecame into view.

A lovely, freshly made log cabin home sat in the middle of a tiny clearing like a beacon of hope. Then again, she wondered how long it would take for Ingram to break down the very wall like a freaking boulder to smash his way through.

She wasn’t going to knock on the door, not when a monster could be inside it. What was the chance a human with the ability to stop a Duskwalker would be living there?

However, as she veered to the left to go around it, movement caught her eye, just as she caught theirs.

A woman, ahumanwoman, gasped and dropped a ceramic container. With a shatter, blue paint gushed against the steps she’d been walking down.

Oh dear lord, Emerie had just doomed this woman.

All she could think to scream was... “Run!”

Where? Who fucking knew. Better than dying like a sacrificial lamb.

A bursting snarl behind her was the only warning either of them got before Ingram sprinted into the clearing.

She hooked a sharp left, hoping to lead Ingram away from the woman so she couldn’t get caught up in his bloodlust. Her Ghost wouldn’t be able to handle the shame if she was the reason this woman died.

“Magnar!” the woman screamed. “Help!”

No! Don’t call for help!

A panicked laugh bubbled to her lips when she saw a second Duskwalker heading straight for her from the right just as she was passing the house. A fenced garden came into view. What were the odds she’d head straight towards another Duskwalker when she was trying to flee from one?

Then again... the whole point of coming to the Veil was to find his brothers. She just hadn’t thought she’d be a bleeding piece of bait.

Both Duskwalkers leapt for Emerie at the same time.

She closed her eyes, tripped the fuck over from doing so, and landed on her face. She waited for the inevitable. For claws, fangs, and a beak to start chomping and slashing as they fought over her.

When nothing happened, although she heard the evidence of a struggle and the sharp clipping of a beak, she rotated to her arse. Leaning back on her hands, her chest heaving in and out with rapid, sawing breaths, her stark gaze grew riveted to the scene just beyond her parted thighs.

She frantically kicked as she backed up.

Above Ingram, who was clawing at the ground to get to her, the new Duskwalker had him pinned down by laying on him. His fox skull reared back to avoid being bashed by short goat horns. Somehow, he’d managed to thread one of Ingram’s arms between them to keep him down, while his knees had found a way to pin his tail and legs.

All that was free was one arm and his head.