Page 17

17

LIORA

I wake to emptiness.

The heat that had wrapped around me through the night is gone, leaving only the cold stone beneath my body. A shiver rolls through me, sweat clinging to my skin despite the chill, the remnants of fever still weighing me down. My limbs ache, my throat dry, but it’s the absence beside me that tightens my chest with something far worse than discomfort.

Dain is not here.

For a moment, I lie still, hoping, listening. Maybe he’s just beyond my reach, watching from the shadows. Maybe he’s waiting for me to wake before he speaks.

But the silence is thick, untouched by the sound of his breathing, his presence, his unbearable weight pressing against the cave.

I push up onto unsteady elbows, the shift sending a wave of dizziness crashing over me. My body protests, muscles stiff, head pounding, but I force myself to sit, to breathe, to focus.

He wouldn’t have left.

Would he?

A bitter taste coats my tongue. Of course, he would.

I shove the thought down before it can dig too deep. He wouldn’t abandon me, not like this, not when I’m still weak. He’s stubborn, possessive in his own cold, ruthless way. He has no reason to keep me alive, no reason to fight for me like he has, but he does.

I don’t understand why.

Shaky hands push against the cavern floor, and I drag myself upright, swallowing against the nausea curling in my stomach. My fever must be breaking, but exhaustion clings to me, clawing at my limbs as I stagger toward the mouth of the cave.

The world beyond is vast, a jagged expanse of mountains and mist curling between the ridges. Wind cuts through the stone, sharp and restless, carrying the smell of damp earth and old storms. The sky is heavy, thick clouds stretched across the horizon, pressing down like a lid on a coffin.

Dain is nowhere in sight.

Something in me tightens, and I take another step forward, eyes sweeping the landscape, searching. I don’t call out for him. I don’t dare.

Something else is out here.

It has been watching.

The sensation creeps along my spine, slithering beneath my skin like an unseen hand. It’s not something I can hear or see, but I feel it.

It’s been there since the temple. Since the mines. Since the tunnels beneath the ruins.

It lingers now, close.

The air thickens, the pressure building in a way that makes my pulse race, my hands tremble. My body reacts before my mind can make sense of it, instincts screaming at me to run, hide, disappear.

Dain had said nothing about this thing, but I know he felt it too. He must have.

I strain to listen, heart hammering in my ears, waiting for something, a whisper, a shift in the shadows, a sign that I’m not imagining this.

Nothing moves.

But the fear coils tighter.

I am not alone.

I take another step.

The wind shifts, and a low growl rumbles through the valley.

The sound is deep, primal, vibrating through the ground beneath my feet. My breath locks in my throat as I turn, eyes locking onto the source.

The beast moves from the rocks, massive and hulking, its form shifting between shadow and flesh, muscles rippling beneath dark, matted fur. Its eyes gleam, black and bottomless, hunger carved into every sharp edge of its body.

It has been waiting.

Now, it moves.

The growl builds, a deep reverberation that shakes me from the inside out, rattling my ribs. My body locks up, its gaze pinning me in place.

It lunges.

I don’t think—I run.

The cliffs blur, the world narrowing into a desperate stretch of uneven ground, loose rock sliding beneath my feet. My breath comes too fast, every heartbeat a violent drumbeat in my ears. The beast follows, heavy and relentless, claws scraping against the stone as it closes in.

I push harder, the cold air burning my lungs, but it’s not enough. I can hear it gaining on me.

My body is still weak, still recovering, and my limbs scream in protest.

I am not fast enough.

I try to reach for my magic, anything, anything at all, but the presence around me presses down, suffocating.

It’s like something is pulling it away, feeding off my fear, stealing whatever strength I have left.

The realization hits me like a hammer.

It wants me to be afraid.

The beast doesn’t kill me immediately. It could have already.

It’s herding me.

Toying with me.

My foot catches on the edge of a hidden crevice, and the world spins.

Pain explodes through my body as I hit the ground, my shoulder slamming into the rock, the breath knocked from my lungs. A cry escapes my throat, raw and sharp, but there’s no one to hear it.

The beast slows.

It prowls closer, its black eyes gleaming in the dim light, the stench of blood thick in the air.

I can’t move.

Every limb is heavy, every inch of me screaming in pain.

I stare up at the sky, the looming clouds stretching endlessly above me.

This is it.

This is how I die.

Alone. Forgotten.

The shadows curl around me, stretching toward my skin like unseen hands, pulling, whispering, feeding off my despair.

The world cracks open.

A deafening rush of wind shatters the silence, a powerful force cutting through the valley.

The beast stiffens, growling low.

The presence that had been pressing down on me recoils.

The sound is unmistakable.

Wings.

Massive. Powerful.

A force that rips through the night, a shadow darker than any that came before.

My heart stutters, my breath frozen in my lungs.

It must be him.