Page 2 of The Girl Who Fell Through Time (To Fall Through Time #1)

A shadow flashes to her left, and she freezes, pressing herself against the trunk of a tree.

Her pulse thunders in her ears, drowning out the distant din of battle.

For one wild moment, she thinks it might be him, come to find her—to finish what his betrayal has started.

But it’s only a fox, its golden eyes wide with fear as it skitters into the underbrush.

She staggers on, each breath burning like acid in her chest. The forest thins as she nears the base of the mountain, the jagged silhouette of stone rising like a titan before her. The terrain grows steeper, and the underbrush clutches at her slippers like hands determined to drag her back.

Her vision swims, the blood loss pulling her toward unconsciousness.

Voices carry through the darkness—gruff, clipped, far too close.

Soldiers.

Panic seizes her. She scans the rocky face of the mountain for cover. The voices grow louder, the crunch of boots on leaves unmistakable. She forces herself toward a shallow recess in the stone, half hidden by ivy. It offers barely more than a shadow of protection.

She presses herself into it, one hand over her mouth to muffle her ragged breathing, the other clutching her side. The voices draw nearer, and she closes her eyes, willing herself to disappear.

“She couldn’t have gotten far,” one of them says.

“She’s bleeding out. The forest will finish her if we don’t,” another replies.

Her nails bite into the jagged rock behind her, every nerve screaming in protest as she shrinks further into the alcove. Her lungs beg for air, but she doesn’t dare breathe too loudly.

The soldiers pass, their voices fading into the distance, leaving only the eerie quiet of the forest. She waits, counting her breaths until she’s sure they are gone. Only then does she collapse against the stone, letting out a shaky exhale.

That’s when she feels it—cool air brushing her skin. Not from the forest, but from the alcove itself.

She turns her head, squinting into the shadows, and realises the hollow isn’t an end.

It’s an opening.

A faint glimmer catches her eye, soft and pale, like moonlight trapped in crystal.

The walls of the tunnel shimmer with veins of quartz, casting a faint glow into the gloom.

Her legs tremble as she pushes forward, her bloodied hand smearing the glowing stone as she steadies herself.

The air smells cleaner here, untouched by smoke and blood.

She knows she should turn back. If the tunnel leads anywhere, it might very well be into the heart of Ashvold’s scheme. But the soldiers are behind her, and Drakefell… Drakefell’s betrayal has made retreat impossible.

She steps into the tunnel, and the forest fades behind her.

The tunnel stretches on, each step echoing softly in the crystalline veins. Her breath comes in short, shallow gasps. She barely feels the wound anymore. That’s a good thing, isn’t it? Maybe it isn’t as severe as she first thought…

The light from the crystals grows stronger, illuminating the path ahead with an otherworldly glow. Dust and time cling to every inch of the ancient stone, making it feel like stepping into a forgotten dream.

Just as she begins to fear the tunnel has no end, it opens up, the walls widening into a cavernous chamber. She stops short.

Surely she must be dreaming, or perhaps she has lost too much blood.

It looks like an underground temple.

Its grandeur is undeniable, even beneath the layers of dust and decay.

Tall, stone pillars rise from the ground, their surfaces covered in carvings—symbols that seem half-familiar, stories of old gods and ancient rites etched into eternity.

A shattered mosaic of coloured tiles stretches across the floor, depicting a great battle long forgotten.

Pieces of it are missing, the image fragmented.

Stairs lead up to a partially-collapsed altar that dominates the far end of the chamber. At its base lie statues, weathered by time into barely recognisable forms.

Selene falters. Those aren’t statues.

Those are bodies.

She looks away, up into the eyes of the statue that towers above them—only the statue doesn’t have eyes, only a face worn smooth by time. There’s enough of the form left for Selene to know that this is a goddess, but nothing else separates her from the stone.

A whisper of wind moves through the chamber, though it has no business being here, deep beneath the mountain. It feels like a breath, a sigh of the earth itself. Goosebumps rise along her skin, a warning or a promise—she isn’t sure which.

This temple is a relic of another age, a place meant to be forgotten. Yet here she is, bleeding into its ancient stones. For a moment, her own betrayal feels insignificant compared to the vastness of the forgotten faiths around her .

She takes one faltering step, then another, the altar growing closer, yet impossibly distant.

Each breath rattles in her chest, and her vision blurs.

The carvings on the walls, the faint light of the crystals, even the grand mosaic beneath her feet, all smear together into indistinct shapes and colours.

The pain in her side gnaws at her, but it is a strange, muted pain, almost as though it belongs to someone else.

No, no. This isn’t her. This isn’t her body. She isn’t dying.

She isn’t, she isn’t, she isn’t.

Her knees buckle. She pitches forward, collapsing onto the cold, ancient tiles, her cheek pressing against the stone. Warmth spreads beneath her—her blood, pooling in dark, accusing rivulets.

That’s a lot of blood, comes a weary thought. At least it’s not mine.

The thoughts in her mind scatter like leaves in the wind, disconnected and muddled. Sentences fragment. Memories disperse.

I don’t want to die.

She wants to live. She wants to make her husband pay. She wants to see her friends again. She wants to see the sun. She wants to finish the next chapter of her book. She wants to dance.

She wants to know what real love is like.

She wants, wants, wants.

A thousand impossible things, all lost to her now.

It doesn’t matter now. Nothing and everything matter.

I don’t want to die, comes a whispered, desperate thought.

No one hears it, of course.

She closes her eyes. All goes black and silent.