POV: Silver Colt
The forest was eerily silent after the chaos of the ambush, the mist curling around tree trunks like smoke from a dying fire. My side still throbbed, every step a painful reminder of the rogue attack, but the adrenaline pushed me forward. Somewhere deep in my chest, a stubborn spark refused to die. I had survived. I would survive.
A rustle from the trees made me pause.
“Silver…” Amelia’s voice, soft and melodic, drifted through the morning fog. “Over here. You need rest. You shouldn’t be out here alone in your condition.”
I hesitated, gripping my sword like a lifeline. My instincts screamed at me to run, to avoid her at all costs—but her tone, her voice, carried that same false warmth I had once trusted. She sounded… concerned. Vulnerable, even.
“Why should I trust yo
