Page 78

No. No, no,no, not silence. Not now.

“ELIAS!”

A shuffle in the bushes to my left.

I turned so sharply I almost tripped on a root. “Elias? Please! I'm here, sweetie. Just come to me, please!”

Nothing.

All that met me was the suffocating weight of stillness and the thrum of blood behind my ears. For a long second, I just stood there, my breath ragged, hands trembling at my sides, scanning the clearing like Elias might step out from behind a tree and laugh. Like he'd say, “Gotcha, Mama,” and this heart-in-my-throat terror would evaporate into thin air.

But no.

Instead, what broke the silence was a low laugh. A deep, cruel laugh.

And it wasn’t Elias’s.

Before I could even whirl to face the sound, before recognition could spark, something struck me hard from behind. Pain exploded at the base of my skull, sharp and blinding, and the world tilted on its axis. My vision blurred, dark spots blooming and spreading until the forest around me faded into nothingness.

I collapsed to the ground, the cold earth rushing up to meet me, but I barely felt it as everything went black.

Chapter 30

Pain shot through my skull as I woke, bound and aching. The rough stone beneath me was cold, and my head throbbed from the force of whatever had knocked me out. I blinked against the dim, flickering light—a fire crackled nearby, casting strange, jumping shadows on the crumbling walls surrounding me. I tried to move, but my wrists were tied behind my back, the rope biting into my skin. Panic threatened to flare, clawing at my throat.

Elias.

I twisted against the restraints, ignoring the pain in my arms, my breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps as the memory of his screams rang through my head. I’d heard him. I’d run to him. And now... nothing. My head spun, a sickening combination of fear and confusion clouding my thoughts.

And then, across the fire, I saw him.

An enormous figure loomed in the flickering light, broad-shouldered and hunched over, the orange glow casting jaggedshadows across his green skin. His muscles were taut beneath the rough, worn leathers he wore, and in his massive hands, he held a blade—dark, heavy, and wickedly sharp. The slow, methodical scrape of steel against stone filled the room, the sound grating in my ears, setting my nerves on edge. His tusks gleamed in the firelight as he ground the blade with deliberate, practiced strokes, like he was savoring the moment.

I knew exactly who he was.

Dregor Bloodclaw.

I swallowed, trying to steady my voice. “Where is Elias?”

The question came out as little more than a rasp, my throat dry and raw. Dregor didn’t flinch. He didn’t even acknowledge me. He just kept sharpening his blade, the scrape of stone against steel steady and unnerving.

“Dregor,” I tried again, louder this time, fighting the panic clawing at the back of my mind. “Where is my son?”

This time, his hand stilled on the blade. Slowly, he lifted his head, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement as he turned to face me. His lips curled into a twisted, mocking smile.

And with that smile, my blood turned to ice.

Before I could demand an answer, a voice, soft and trembling, echoed through the room.

“Mama... help me...”

I froze.

It was Elias’s voice. But something about it was wrong—distorted, like it was coming from the depths of a nightmare.

I strained against the ropes, my heart slamming against my ribs. “Elias?”

The voice came again, weaker this time, dripping with fear. “Mama, please...”