Sarah follows Lamia’s gaze.
Peter clutches his chest harder and winces. He can hardly move. He lets go of his tunic, falling to his knees, and grabs at the ground. His jaw-clenched grunts cry out over the woods. He rolls onto his back, grabbing at the snow around him. Steam rises. He rocks from side to side, pushing at the snow with his feet.
Sarah locks eyes with Lamia. “You want him – so, badly? Then, let’s see – who – dies first. You, or me.” She can barely make out her words, but the sight of Peter drives her to try harder.
Lamia smirks. She grabs Sarah’s mouth, squeezing it open, and forces a black, honey-thick liquid down her throat while whispering in that strange language. Sarah fights to breathe. She chokes and coughs on the liquid, making some of it spurt out onto her chin. It
