Aila Coraline
The skulls hanging from the front gate of these hunters made my stomach churn. They were arranged in grotesque patterns, a grim display that spoke of danger—real danger. I’d encountered plenty of threats in my life, but nothing quite like this. The hunters were different. More ruthless.
"Don’t be scared. I’m here," Zayn whispered.
Ahead of us, an old woman stood facing the hunters, negotiating—pleading, perhaps—but the hunters remained resolute. Their stances were unwavering, their eyes cold, like they had already decided our fate.
But as I took a step forward, a sharp pain suddenly lanced through my stomach. I froze, my breath catching in my throat. The wound—my stomach wound—suddenly flared up with searing intensity. It hadn’t hurt this badly before, but now it felt
