Closer Than You Think
1212 Words
Eva's POV
The rogue’s last words echoed in my head long after his body went limp.
“He’s been watching you… since the moment you crossed the border.”
I stood there, frozen, fists clenched. My stomach twisted. I looked around the chamber, searching the walls, the ceiling, every shadow. No movement. No sound. But I could feel it. That cold weight pressing down on me. Like someone’s eyes were still here. Still watching.
Athena, I whispered inwardly. Is he here?
My wolf snarled. Not anymore. But he was.
Trent stepped closer to me, blood on his hands and sweat dripping from his brow. “We’re not alone in this territory. He’s got eyes everywhere.”
Isak wiped his blade clean, lips pressed in a tight line. “He let us walk into this trap. That means he knows we’re not leaving until we find him.”
I looked down at the dead rogue, his lifeless eyes wide open. “He wanted us to hear it.”
Trent’s gaze moved to me. “He wants you rattled.”
“Well, it’s working,” I muttered.
We pressed deeper into the tunnel system.
It forked twice. We took the left path, then curved through a narrow hall half-covered in roots and moss. It reeked of damp fur and old magic.
Henry brushed his fingers along the stone wall. “These tunnels aren’t natural.”
“They were built during the wars,” Trent said. “Used for moving prisoners or hiding the wounded.”
“Used by cowards,” Isak muttered.
I ignored their bickering and paused. Something prickled at the base of my skull.
A pull.
A cold one.
He was here.
I turned left, deeper into the shadows.
“Eva,” Trent said sharply. “Don’t run off—”
“I know this path,” I replied. “Trust me.”
To my surprise, they did.
The tunnel narrowed until we emerged into a small circular chamber lit by a single glowing stone embedded in the ceiling. In the center was a low stone altar. On the walls—drawings. Hundreds of them. All hand-drawn. Charcoal and ink. Some barely finished.
“What the hell…” Henry whispered.
I stepped forward, hands trembling.
They were drawings… of me.
Me as a child.
Me as a teenager.
Me holding Nathan.
“What is this?” I choked out.
Isak stepped beside me. “They’re surveillance sketches. Recent, too.”
“Some of these are from Falcon Hall,” I whispered. “That’s our cabin. That one… that was Nathan’s fifth birthday.”
Trent's voice was ice. “He’s been tracking you for years.”
I staggered back, gripping the wall. “Why? Why watch us and not reach out?”
Isak crouched near the altar. “Because he didn’t want reconciliation. He wanted control.”
He pulled open a drawer beneath the altar.
Inside were several folded parchments and a cracked photograph—me and Nathan at a market. I remember that day. It was the only time I let us out in public without cloaks.
“Eva,” Isak said carefully. “This wasn’t about watching. This was about studying. He’s been waiting for something.”
Trent clenched his fists. “What kind of man stalks his own daughter and grandson like this?”
“My father,” I whispered, staring blankly at the wall.
The drawings began to blur.
My knees buckled, and I slumped to the ground, arms wrapped around my body. My thoughts splintered into memories I tried to keep buried.
Flashback
“Stand straighter, Eva. You’re slouching.”
I was six, trying to hold a training sword twice my size.
“If you can’t hold it now, how will you lead later?”
“But I’m not going to be a leader,” I said. “I’m just—”
His hand slapped the table. “You are my daughter. You will not be a disappointment.”
He never stopped planning, I thought. Even after he left me. Even after he rejected me. He was still writing my story in his head.
Athena howled inside me, a long, mournful sound.
Isak knelt beside me. “He’s sick, Eva. This isn’t normal behavior. This is obsession.”
Trent looked down at the altar, expression unreadable. “If he wanted to kill her, he could’ve done it already.”
“He doesn’t want her dead,” Isak muttered. “He wants her broken.”
“No,” I said quietly. “He wants Nathan.”
Trent’s eyes snapped to mine. “What?”
“I don’t know why. I don’t know what prophecy he thinks he’s chasing. But all of this leads back to my son.”
Isak stood. “Then we need to destroy this place. Burn it. Leave nothing behind.”
“Wait,” Henry called from the far side of the room.
We turned.
He held something in his hands—a small, blood-stained piece of fabric.
Trent moved first, grabbing it, examining it. His eyes widened. He looked at me slowly.
I stepped forward.
“No…” I whispered.
I grabbed it from his hands.
I knew that cloth.
It was Nathan’s.
His little red cloak. The one he wore two days ago. The one I packed. The one I haven’t seen since we left the cabin.
My blood ran cold.
“This wasn’t drawn,” I whispered. “This was taken.”
Isak stepped beside me, his voice tight. “He’s been close enough… to touch him.”
Trent’s entire body began to shake. “He breached our security.”
I turned on him. “You said the borders were sealed!”
“They were!”
I stepped back, panic rising like bile. “Then how did he get this? How close was he? How long has he been watching my son?”
Trent growled low in his throat.
Henry stepped between us. “We need to move. Now. Get back to the packhouse.”
“No,” I said. “We keep going.”
Trent turned to me. “Eva—”
“I am not leaving until I find the bastard who stalked my son.”
“Eva,” Isak said calmly. “We’ll lose the light soon. The scouts can continue—”
“I’m not going back!” I shouted. “He knows where Nathan is. If I leave now, he’ll strike. He’ll know I’m not there.”
Trent looked torn. “Then we split up.”
“Absolutely not,” Isak snapped.
“It’s the only way,” Trent said. “She and I keep pressing forward. You go back. Guard the boy. We’ll signal if we find anything.”
I looked at both of them.
Then nodded.
“Fine,” I said. “But if anything happens to my son—anything—this alliance ends.”
Isak’s eyes burned. “Nothing will happen to him.”
He turned and disappeared into the tunnel with half the guards.
Trent stayed beside me, breathing hard.
I didn’t look at him. I stared down at the blood stained cloak.
And I swore to myself…
The next time I see my father, it won’t be a reunion.
It’ll be justice.
- Writer
