Three
1032 Words
The forest felt different on the way back. Every shadow seemed deeper, every rustle in the undergrowth louder. The moon, pale and high above the canopy, spilled silver light over Nali’s back as he walked ahead of her. He didn’t speak. Didn’t even glance to see if she was keeping up.
And yet, somehow, she knew he was aware of her every step.
The air was cold enough to sting her lungs. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, trying to keep the chill from biting through her clothes. The path if it could be called that wound between towering trunks slick with rain, their bark gleaming faintly in the moonlight.
It was too quiet.
No insects, no owls. Just the whisper of wind and the distant rush of the waterfall. She realized with a start that she couldn’t even hear the sound of her own breathing over the thud of her pulse in her ears. Something’s wrong.
Her gaze darted to the trees, scanning the shifting shadows. And then she saw them.
Two points of glinting light in the darkness to her right, too high to be an animal’s, too still to be fireflies. They blinked once, then vanished. Her feet faltered.
“Nali…” Her voice was low, tight. “We’re not alone.”
He didn’t slow, but his head tilted slightly, the angle of his shoulders changing. She realized he’d noticed before she had.
The next moment, he stopped. “Stay behind me,” he said, voice calm but laced with something hard.
Before she could ask why, the forest erupted. A figure burst from the shadows, black cloak snapping in the wind. The glint of a blade caught the moonlight. A long, curved knife arcing toward Nali’s head.
It happened too fast for her to react.
Nali moved like water. One step to the side, the assassin’s blade missing his skull by an inch. His hand shot out, fingers closing around the attacker’s wrist with bone-crushing force. The assassin snarled, a sound more beast than man and tried to wrench free.
Nali didn’t give him the chance. He yanked the cloaked figure forward, slamming his other hand into their chest with a force that knocked the breath from them in a sharp, wet gasp. Before they could recover, his grip shifted to the hilt of their own knife, twisting it free.
And then the sound of steel sliding into flesh.
She gasped, stumbling back as the assassin’s knees buckled. Nali’s face was unreadable, his movements precise as he drove the blade up under the ribs, deep enough to draw a choked cry. The assassin clawed at his arm, but Nali’s strength didn’t waver.
In the pale moonlight, she saw the dark stain blooming across the assassin’s chest. Saw the way his body shuddered, weakening.
Nali leaned in close, his voice too low for her to catch. The assassin’s eyes widened in fear, rage, maybe both before the light drained from them. Nali wrenched the blade free, and the body crumpled to the forest floor.
The whole thing had taken less than ten seconds.
She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Her gaze flicked from the fallen man to Nali, who now stood over the corpse, the assassin’s blood glistening wet along the steel in his hand.
He didn’t look winded. Not even a bead of sweat marked his skin. Only his eyes sharper now, almost glowing, betrayed anything beneath that calm exterior.
He turned to her. “Are you hurt?” His tone was the same as when he’d asked her to drink tea in the cabin. Steady, even but the weight behind it was heavier. Darker.
She shook her head, though her knees felt weak. “You… you just—”
“Saved your life,” he said, matter-of-fact, cutting her off. “That was one of them.”
Her stomach twisted. The men in black. The ones who had slaughtered her family.
But this wasn’t one of the faceless shadows from her memory. This was a man, someone who’d had eyes and breath and maybe even a name until Nali had ended him like it was nothing.
She stepped back, the damp leaves cold beneath her bare feet. “You didn’t hesitate.”
His gaze held hers. “Hesitation gets you killed.”
“That doesn’t make it—” Her words broke off. Right. That’s what she’d wanted to say. It doesn’t make it right. But the truth lodged in her throat, because she knew deep down that if Nali hadn’t done it, she’d be lying in the dirt instead.
He closed the distance between them in two slow steps, the knife still hanging loosely in his hand. “You want to live, don’t you?”
She swallowed hard. “I… yes.”
“Then understand this—” His voice dropped lower, each word deliberate. “They will not stop. They will follow you until you are dead. Or until they are.”
Her heart hammered, but not entirely from fear. There was something else something in the way he stood, the quiet certainty in his voice, the way his eyes didn’t waver even when hers did.
“Come,” he said, turning away from the corpse. “The others will smell the blood.”
She hesitated, glancing down at the fallen assassin. The cloak had slipped back enough to reveal a mask covering the lower half of his face. It was slick with blood now, but the symbol stitched into the fabric, a coiled serpent stood out clearly.
Nali saw her looking. “Remember it,” he said. “It will not be the last time you see it.”
He led the way back through the trees, moving quickly but without panic. She followed, her mind reeling.
The image of him killing the assassin replayed over and over so swift, controlled, utterly final. There had been no hesitation. No fear. Only protection.
And that was what unsettled her most. Because even though she barely knew him, even though she feared him, a small, treacherous part of her felt… safer with him there. Safer with the monster than alone in the dark.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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