42. GRAYSON
42
GRAYSON
The shot pierced the thick fog, narrowly missing us as it whizzed past our heads—the echo of the gunshot reverberating through the dense forest. The only way to ensure Ivy’s safety was to take out the threat, but I couldn’t risk bringing her closer to danger. My adrenaline surged as I made the split-second decision, praying that my instincts were correct and that this wasn’t a trap, leading Ivy into the enemy’s arms.
“Ivy, run!” I demanded, my voice raw with urgency.
She hesitated.
“Run!” I barked over my left shoulder.
Ivy’s expression shifted to shock, her gaze darting between me and the looming threat, while her fingers twitched at her side, as if itching to reach for a weapon and stand her ground.
“Get your mom out of here.” I placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze—a silent plea for her to prioritize her mother’s safety over her instinct to fight alongside me.
Her lips thinned, and it looked like she wanted to argue, but finally, Ivy spun around, her dark hair flowing through the air like ribbons as she charged through the forest. Away from me.
With my heart in my throat, I watched until the mist swallowed her whole. Then, with a clenched jaw and a white-knuckled grip on my weapon, I turned to face our hunter.
Each step I took was deliberate and measured, but anyone acutely listening could hear the leaves rustling beneath my feet. My heartbeat thundered through my body, each pulsation a stark warning—if he took me down, he could get to Ivy.
The woods remained a silent fortress, hiding our assailant, and the gun was an anchor in my hands, my finger poised on the trigger, ready to pull back at any?—
Bam.
The second shot tore through the air, my body jerking as I caught sight of the arm holding the gun less than twenty feet ahead. While burning exploded through my body.