Kora’s POV
The meadow stank of blood and smoke. The cries of the wounded bled into the silence left behind, a silence heavier than the mist itself.
Edward didn’t move from in front of me. His blade hung at his side, dripping red into the grass, but his eyes stayed fixed on me, unblinking. It was like he was waiting for me to confess something I didn’t even understand.
“I…” My voice cracked. I swallowed, trying again. “I don’t know what happened. I just threw the herbs into the water, and they—”
“Collapsed.” Edward’s tone was flat, unreadable. His gaze flicked to the river, then back to me. “Hunters don’t collapse from herbs, Kora. Not unless the herbs were meant for them.”
I shivered, the memory rushing back — their bodies jerking, their eyes rolling back white, the word *witch* echoi
