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“Grace!” My voice echoed through the maze but was quickly swallowed by the twisting walls of branches and dense mist curling around my feet.

I couldn’t see her.

I couldn’t see anyone.

The thought gnawed at me as I stalked forward, intent on finding her, but every pathway I took and every section I turned looked identical to the last.

“Grace!” I shouted again, the word cracking in my throat.

Only silence answered.

I swore under my breath, and I forced myself to keep moving. Why didn’t I stop her before she touched the stone? My jaw clenched at the memory of it all despite my warning. She rarely listened, and why should she after I had angered her the night of the ball?

“Fuck,” I whispered, annoyed at myself, before a faint sound reached my ears—footsteps, hurried and uneven.

I stilled, my muscles bunching up as I gripped the edge of my spear tighter.

The steps grew louder and closer, accompanied by the sound of heavy breathing.

The footsteps were practically on top of me now as I rounded the next corner and collided with something solid, the force knocking me back a step.

The other figure hit the ground with a grunt, scrambling back as they looked up at me.

It wasn’t Grace.

It was just Matt from the Healers Sector. He was younger than me, with wiry limbs and wide, panicked eyes. His uniform was torn, and dirt was smeared across his face.

“I—I’m sorry!” His hands raised defensively. “I don’t want to fight, okay? I don’t even know where I am going—I just—” His gaze darted around like he was expecting something to leap out at him.

Poor guy must have encountered one too many of those shadow beasts.

I took a step closer, but he shook his head, whimpering. Before I could say anything, he staggered to his feet and bolted down another path.

I stood there for a moment, watching the empty space where he’d been, but he no longer mattered to me. What mattered was finding Grace.

Her name burned on my tongue as I shouted it again into the silence and was met with nothing.

I forced my legs to keep moving, even as my lungs burned, and my muscles ached. Somewhere out there was another sigil stone, the real one, and I desperately wanted to find it. That thought was the only thing keeping me moving, even as exhaustion started consuming me with every step.

“Grace.”

I came to an abrupt stop and turned in all directions to where the voice had come from.

“Hunter?” I whispered, but there was nothing.

I went to say his name again, but that was when I heard it.

My name once more, and the faintest whispers followed close behind.

I froze, my ears straining to hear more, but what they were saying wasn’t clear.

Whatever it was, my feet began moving without warning. I couldn’t help it as I followed the sound, anyway, weaving through the maze as the whispers grew louder and more insistent.

I sucked in a sharp breath as I rounded a corner, and there it was. Another sigil stone, this time embedded into the maze’s wall. Except this one didn’t look like the one I’d found before. It was pale, almost silver.

I hesitated.

It could be a cursed one.

Every instinct in me screamed for me to turn around, to leave it alone, but I couldn’t move. It was as though my feet were stuck in quicksand. I couldn’t escape it. There was something so magnetic about the stone. It was pulling me toward it, an invisible force that wrapped around my mind and body.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head, but my feet finally moved as if they were no longer my own. I reached out, my fingers trembling as they hovered over the stone. Don’t touch it. Don’t touch it.

I couldn’t stop myself.

The moment my fingers brushed the surface, shadows swarmed me, and I stumbled back, feeling the darkness wrap around me like a shroud. The maze disappeared before me, and I couldn’t see anything except figures.

I turned to see Hunter standing before me. His expression was twisted and cruel, resembling the hatred in his eyes whenever he used to look at me—before everything happened, before I... fell for him.

“Why are you here, Grace?” he asked, though his voice lacked any warmth.

I tried to speak, but my words were stuck somewhere between my mind and mouth.

He stepped closer, and something in him changed.

His eyes.

They weren’t grey anymore.

They were black, an endless void that seemed to pull the light from the air around them.

A chill swept through me as his darkened gaze penetrated my soul, slicing every single one of our memories.

“Did you really think I was the hero?” he whispered, smiling a slow, sinister smile. “You’re so naive, Grace. You always have been.”

“No,” I choked out, shaking my head. “You’re not real. This isn’t real.”

But that hatred never faded from his eyes as more versions of Hunter appeared around me, each one worse than the last—his hands covered in blood, his laughter sharp and cruel, his voice whispering things I couldn’t understand but knew were just harsh words, tormenting me.

It’s not real. It’s not real.

I clutched at the necklace around my neck. I focused on that instead and squeezed my eyes shut.

“Open your eyes, Grace.” Hunter’s voice sounded like it was coming from behind me.

I shook my head.

“Open your eyes!”

“This isn’t real!” I screamed, the sound tearing from my throat as I fell to my knees, and everything went silent.

My breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps, and I slowly opened my eyes to the maze, snapping back into focus around me. The cursed stone lay in front of me, its glow fading to nothing.

“Grace!”

I looked up, my vision blurry, but there he was.

Hunter.

Please be real, please be real.

As soon as he saw the state of me, he crouched in front of me and cupped my face. “Hey,” he said, looking around him as if cautious that the Council could be watching this moment. “You’re okay.”

I swallowed hard, nodding shakily.

He couldn’t stop himself as he pulled me into his embrace, and I held onto him, his chin resting atop my head.

“You’re okay,” he whispered again, but the image of his black eyes lingered in my mind, and I wasn’t sure if I would be.