Unanswered Questions
883 Words
The trees parted, revealing a small, weather-beaten cabin tucked into the forest’s depths. It didn’t look like much—just four walls, a roof barely holding together, and a few scattered remnants of past inhabitants. But right now, it was the only shelter they had.
Damian led Amara through the door, his movements deliberate as he scanned the area. Amara hesitated on the threshold, her legs weak and her mind swirling with everything that had just happened.
“We’ll be safe here,” Damian said, his voice low and gruff. He shut the door firmly behind them, then crossed the room to check the windows. Amara remained standing in the center of the small space, unsure of what to do.
Safe? How could anywhere be safe now? The growls, the snarls, the feel of those creatures chasing them—it was all still too fresh, too close. Her heart thudded in her chest, the adrenaline refusing to fade.
She ran a hand through her hair, her fingers shaking. "What...what just happened back there? Who was that man? Why were they after me?"
Damian paused, glancing over his shoulder at her. "I told you, you're marked. It makes you a target."
Amara's breath caught in her throat. "But what does that even mean? Marked by who? For what?"
Damian exhaled, rubbing a hand across his face. He looked as exhausted as she felt. "There are things about your bloodline you don’t know. Things that others want—power, connections. Being marked means they’ll come after you until they get it."
"My bloodline?" Amara blinked, trying to make sense of his words. "But I don’t have any power! I don’t even know what I am. Why are they after me now?"
"You’ve always had it," Damian said, his voice softening slightly. "It was dormant, hidden. Until now."
Amara's mind spun. Dormant power? A hidden bloodline? It sounded like something from a story, not her life. She sank onto the edge of a creaky wooden chair, her hands gripping the seat for stability. "And you knew all along?"
Damian shook his head. "Not all along. But I’ve known enough to understand why they want you."
"Who’s ‘they’? The wolves? That man?" Amara's frustration broke through her fear. "Why can’t you just tell me everything?"
"I will," Damian said, his gaze locking with hers. "But not now. We don’t have time."
His words only made her anger rise. "You keep saying that. You keep telling me to wait, but every time I do, things just get worse. I deserve to know what’s happening to me!"
Damian’s expression hardened. "I know you're scared. But the more you know, the bigger the target on your back. I’m trying to protect you."
Amara stood, her fists clenched. "Protect me? I don't even know who I'm supposed to be running from! You think I feel safe? You think I feel protected?"
Damian stared at her for a long moment, his jaw tight. "I know you don't. But you will be. I'll make sure of it."
His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken promises. Amara swallowed, her throat dry. There was something in his voice, in his eyes, that made her want to believe him. But trust didn’t come easily. Not now. Not after everything that had happened.
She turned away from him, her mind still racing. "So what now? We just sit here and wait for them to find us again?"
"We wait for a moment," Damian said, moving toward the window again. "I need to make sure no one followed us."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Amara’s thoughts tangled, each question pulling her deeper into confusion. She was marked? For what? And why did Damian know more about her life than she did?
A creak from the floorboards snapped her attention back. Damian had settled by the door, his back straight, every muscle tense. He looked like a man constantly on guard, never fully relaxed.
"You're scared of them too, aren’t you?" Amara said quietly.
Damian didn’t answer at first, his gaze focused somewhere beyond the cabin walls. "There are worse things in this world than fear, Amara."
She frowned. "Like what?"
"Like power you can’t control," he muttered, almost to himself.
Before she could ask him what he meant, there was a sound outside. A knock—soft, barely audible, but enough to make her blood run cold.
Damian’s entire body stiffened. He rose to his feet in a single, fluid motion, signaling for her to stay quiet. Amara's heart raced as she took a step back, pressing herself against the far wall.
"Who is it?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
Damian held a finger to his lips, his eyes narrowing as he moved closer to the door. The knock came again, more insistent this time. Whoever it was, they weren’t going away.
"Stay behind me," Damian whispered, his voice sharp.
Amara nodded, her legs weak as she edged toward the corner of the room. She barely dared to breathe.
The door creaked as Damian slowly reached for the handle. His grip tightened around the hilt of his dagger, ready for whatever—or whoever—stood on the other side.
The knock came one more time, louder now, sending a chill down Amara's spine.
- Writer
