Chapter4
1038 Words
Rhea ran.
The cold air burned in her lungs, her bare feet sinking into the damp earth as she pushed forward. The trees blurred past her, darkened shapes in the endless night.
Her body ached. Her limbs felt too heavy, too strange—like she wasn’t fully in control of them. Her breath came in sharp gasps, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t.
The bodies.
The blood.
She didn’t remember doing it.
One moment, she had been standing there, staring into Lucien’s cold, detached eyes, bracing herself for the killing blow—and then everything had gone black.
And when she woke up, they were dead.
Their bodies were ruined. Torn apart like prey.
She had stared at her hands—or what should have been her hands—only to find claws.
Fur.
Fangs.
She had shifted, but it hadn’t been normal.
It had been something else.
Something monstrous.
A shudder tore through her, but she didn’t slow down.
She needed to get as far away as possible.
The scent of blood was still thick in the air. If any other warriors were nearby, they would come looking. And when they found what was left of Lucien and the others, they would hunt her down like an animal.
Her father had already sentenced her to death.
Now, she had given him a reason to enjoy it.
Branches tore at her arms, scratching deep, but she barely felt them. Her body was still too raw. Too strange.
She needed time to think, time to breathe.
But time wasn’t a luxury she had.
Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
No.
Not yet.
She forced herself forward, faster now, ignoring the way her legs burned. She could barely see through the thick mist weaving between the trees, but she didn’t care where she ended up—as long as it wasn’t here.
The world around her pulsed. Her senses were sharper now. She could hear the smallest rustle of leaves, smell the dampness of the moss-covered ground, feel the shift in the wind.
Everything was too much.
Too loud. Too bright. Too alive.
It made her head spin.
Then—
A scent.
Familiar. Wrong.
Her body reacted before her mind caught up.
She dropped low, skidding behind a fallen log just as movement stirred behind the trees ahead.
Her stomach twisted.
No. No. No.
She peeked out from behind the log, barely daring to breathe.
Five of them.
Her father’s warriors.
They moved silently, their weapons drawn. Their eyes cold. Focused.
Hunters.
They were tracking her.
Her throat tightened.
Of course they were.
She had left too much blood behind. Too much c*****e.
She was a mistake that needed to be erased.
She pressed her palm against the damp ground, willing herself to stay calm. She could barely think past the way her pulse thundered in her ears.
Her father hadn’t even waited to confirm she was dead. He had sent them after her immediately.
As if he had known all along.
As if he had been waiting for her to become something… else.
A bitter taste filled her mouth.
One of the warriors stepped closer, his boots crushing the dead leaves beneath him.
Too close.
Rhea’s hands curled into fists.
She had no strength left to fight. She had barely survived the first attack.
And now, they had come to finish it.
She clenched her teeth, pressing herself lower against the ground. Stay still. Don’t breathe. Don’t move.
But then—
Something shifted.
She felt it before she heard it.
A presence. Far away, yet close.
Like a shadow brushing against her skin.
A cold whisper at the edge of her mind.
Something else had noticed her.
And it was watching.
The air turned sharp. Charged.
She didn’t understand what was happening—until it happened.
A sudden, violent pulse tore through the air.
The ground trembled beneath her fingers. The air itself shook.
And then—
Screaming.
Rhea’s breath caught.
She peeked over the log just in time to see the first warrior collapse.
His body convulsed, his eyes rolling back, his skin turning gray.
His comrades barely had time to react before the next one dropped, choking on his own breath.
One by one, they fell.
Not cut down. Not torn apart.
They just… died.
As if something had stolen the life from them.
A cold, terrible silence followed.
Rhea’s body was frozen in place, her heart slamming against her ribs.
What just happened?
She pushed herself up slightly, staring at the lifeless bodies.
Her hands shook.
She had done this.
Hadn’t she?
But—she hadn’t moved. She hadn’t attacked. She hadn’t done anything.
Something else had.
Something she couldn’t see.
A chill crawled up her spine.
She needed to get out of here. Now.
She scrambled to her feet, ignoring the way her body still felt off—wrong, like it didn’t belong to her anymore.
And then, for the first time since waking up in that forest, she felt it again.
That presence.
Watching. Waiting.
It sent another shiver through her.
And far, far to the north—
Kieran felt her.
He sat up with a sharp breath, his grip tightening around the edge of the stone table.
Rowan’s head snapped toward him. “What is it?”
Kieran’s jaw was clenched. He felt her.
Distant. Yet unbearably close.
Like a wildfire just waiting to spread.
His chest ached with the weight of it.
“She doesn’t know,” he murmured, more to himself than to Rowan.
Rowan’s brows furrowed. “Know what?”
Kieran exhaled sharply.
“She doesn’t know what she is.”
And that made her even more dangerous.
Rowan was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “Is she alone?”
Kieran closed his eyes, focusing—stretching his senses farther.
He felt the lingering touch of death.
Felt the way it had taken them.
And she had been at the center of it.
He opened his eyes.
“She won’t be for long,” he said.
Rowan understood immediately.
They had to move.
Because if they had felt her—
Others would, too.
And they would not be as merciful.
- Writer
