Lena exhaled shakily. “We need to get out of here. Now.”
I forced myself to move, pushing against the lingering pain. My limbs felt foreign, my body something half-forged, caught between what it had been and what it was becoming.
Dorian helped me to my feet, his grip firm. “Can you walk?”
I nodded, though the world still swayed. The mist curled behind us, receding but not retreating. The Hollow was letting us go—for now. But it had marked me.
It had always marked me.
Logan took point again, his sword still slick with my blood. He hadn’t spoken since we’d broken free. He didn’t need to. I could feel his unease like a second heartbeat.
We walked in silence, every step measured. The world outside the Hollow felt too sharp, too loud, like I’d been pulled from one nightmare into another.
