Darian’s POV
I wake to the smell of earth and blood.
For a moment, I don’t know which one is mine.
My cheek is pressed into damp soil, the forest floor cold against my skin. Leaves cling to my hair. My body feels wrong—heavy, unresponsive, like it belongs to someone else. When I try to breathe deeply, pain answers immediately, sharp enough to drag a sound from my throat.
I groan and roll onto my back.
The sky above me is pale, washed thin with early light. Dawn. That alone tells me how long I’ve been out.
Memory crashes back without mercy.
The chase.
The clearing.
Her.
Serenity.
The fight was real. Every strike, every impact, every moment she stopped running and turned on me—it all floods in with brutal clarity. My muscles tense as if bracing for another blow that doesn’t come.
