The weight of the situation presses down on me like a leaden blanket as I grip the steering wheel, each turn of the road a painful reminder of our predicament. Octavia lies beside me in the passenger seat, her usually vibrant presence reduced to a fragile figure, her breaths shallow and uneven. Every glance I steal at her sends a jolt of fear coursing through my veins, her stillness a haunting echo of the chaos that had engulfed us.
How could I have let this happen?
The urge to flee, to take her to the safety of our own territory, claws at the edges of my mind. She’d be safe there. Protected. Far away from these monsters. But reason is too hard for me to ignore; we are but mice in the claws of a lion. Our escape would be futile, our capture inevitable. Or rather, her parents would return
