CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT † FIGHTI’M RUNNING IN the woods at a brutal and punishing pace. Pines blur around me. Prickly bushes cut into the soft skin of my calves and arms.
Low-hanging branches smack my face, shredding my cheeks. The sun has set and the gloom grows. Soon I won’t have much light to help me navigate. My insides twist, begging me to stop and puke
out my guts. But I can’t. If I do, the man running after me will catch up and the dagger in his hand will sink into my flesh. The cycle will keep repeating itself if that happens before I can
find a way to break Moira’s spell.
Damn her.
She put me in a Groundhog Day loop of nightmarish proportions. I should have countered the spell before she had a chance to complete it. My reflexes are s**t. Years ago I would have beat her
ass, han
