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My thoughts turn dark, questions swirling in my mind. I can barely make it through the woods with my wounds growing worse by the minute. If I stop, if I give in, I will die. The memory of the hell I escaped drives every step I take: the beatings, the isolation, the never-ending hunger.

I need to leave behind the broken halls and the stench of fear that cling to the prison walls. I must run, even as my legs beg me to stop.

The forest continues to grow denser the further I venture, the trees pressing in closer, their dark branches reach out. The air feels heavier here. The smells of decay cling stubbornly to the earth beneath my feet. In the distance, I hear the howls of wolves. Their eerie cries pierce the stillness of the night. They feel far from here, but the sound still pulls at the edge of my sanity.

I can’t let myself be distracted. The fear of being hunted, the knowledge that they might be close, sends a fresh wave of panic surging through me.

My magic, my only weapon, is a whisper in the back of my mind, a distant memory. I have spent so long hiding it, suppressing it, that it now lies dormant. It is there, I know it’s there, but it is buried too deep to summon. And without it, I am nothing.

I stumble again, my body growing weaker with each passing moment.

My heart races, my senses on high alert. Every snap of a twig underfoot, every rustle of leaves in the distance, has my body straining, my mind racing. I am being watched. I don’t know by whom or by what, but the feeling is unmistakable, creeping under my skin, a slow, insidious pressure building.

I push myself harder, trying to ignore the fire burning in my chest, but the pain is becoming unbearable. My vision starts to blur, a darkness slowly creeping at the edges of my consciousness.

Suddenly, the air around me changes, a subtle shift, a prickling sensation crawling over my skin. My body tenses instinctively. It isn’t just the wind anymore. It’s something else. My heart skips a beat, and the darkness seems to pulse around me, thickening with each passing step.

I freeze.

No, I can’t be caught now. Not when I am so close to the edge of freedom.

I twist around, my breath quickening. My magic stirs weakly, but alive. It is a desperate spark, a flicker of what it was once, but I can’t summon it fully.

There’s another movement, a shadow, barely visible in the dense darkness.

My pulse thunders in my ears as I fight the panic that threatens to consume me. My body trembles, my legs barely holding me up, and yet I can’t stop myself from stepping back, trying to distance myself from the figure moving through the trees.

I swallow hard, my throat tightening as though I am trying to breathe through water. A shadow moves in the distance, silent and graceful. I can’t see it clearly, but I can feel it, feel the presence watching me from the dark.

My legs refuse to move. The stench of magic overwhelms my senses.

I strain to hear where the movement is coming from, but the wind carries away every sound. Still, the awareness of being hunted doesn’t waver. My breath catches in my lungs as I reach within, calling for my magic, the one thing that can protect me. I grasp for it, but it eludes me.

His voice shatters the stillness, smooth and laced with deadly amusement. “And where exactly do you think you’re going?” The words are tainted with mockery. “Or are you running from something . . . someone, perhaps? Surely not me.”

My heart thuds painfully in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears. That voice . . . sounds familiar.

From the shadows, his figure emerges, stepping forward with a fluid grace that makes the air itself bend around him. My pulse quickens, a sharp ache in my throat as the realization claws at me. His silhouette is tall and commanding, but his features remain obscured by the darkness.

I try again to summon my magic, my last line of defense, but it is useless.

He steps closer, the faint glow of his eyes cutting through the night, an unnatural light reflecting off them, as though the very shadows obey his will. His form moves with an eerie fluidity, powerful and lithe, his features sharp and striking even in the dim light. Everything about him screams danger.

He isn’t one of the guards I have come to know.

He is something darker, something far worse.

The one who once stood beside his father, watching as the Dark Realm devoured my kingdom of light whole. The one who orchestrated the horrors that tore my realm apart. The sight of him twists something low in my stomach.

My heart stills, the world narrowing to a single, horrifying point. His eyes gleam in the darkness like a merciless predator. I feel a coldness seep through me, so deeply it brushes my bones.

I clench my teeth, forcing the words past the tightness in my chest. “I’m not running from anything.”

He chuckles darkly, the sound low. “No? In a hurry, are we?” His voice drips with satisfaction, each word more venomous than the last. “This doesn't strike me as the ideal spot for a leisurely midnight stroll.” He takes another careful step closer.

I try to step back, to flee, but my legs won’t obey me. My body is paralyzed with fear. I can feel the shadows thickening, wrapping around me, closing me in like a trap. His power is palpably dark and oppressive, pressing against my skin like a tangible weight. My heart races, my breath coming in shallow gasps as I struggle to force my magic out.

I can feel my body trembling, the darkness around me swirling at my feet. Move! You have to move.