CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I was caught somewhere between dreaming and waking, stirring in the thick fog of sleep, when I heard a noise.
My first thought was that it was just another nightmare.
The world around me was dark, and shapes blurred and swam as my mind scrambled to catch up, to make sense of what I was seeing.
Shadows stretched where they shouldn’t, and a figure loomed over me, black against soft orange flicker.
My pulse stuttered.
Had the shadow from the cottage followed me? Had it tracked me down in my sleep, waited until I was defenseless? Maybe it had come to take me. To drag me beneath the roots of the world and feast on my soul.
Or maybe it didn’t want to kill me. It wanted to use me.
To speak through me, burn through me, kill through me. Use me like it had used the seer.
My chest seized, and I tried to move, to scream, to do anything, when fingers clamped over my mouth. Cold, calloused skin crushed against my lips, stealing the scream straight from my throat. And just like that, the terror shifted.
It wasn’t a shadow. It wasn’t a cursed spirit or an ancient god come to possess me.
It was worse.
It was human.
The weight of a man pressed down on me, his breath reeked of rotting meat, and when he held me down, the feel of his skin was too familiar.
It felt like Arche.
Was I ever going to be free of him? Because I still saw him. Still felt him. He was always there, crawling up from the darkest corners of my mind, reminding me that I would never forget. That I’d never feel safe again.
It’s not him. It’s not him. It’s not him.
I couldn’t breathe.
“Be a good girl and tell me where the gold is?” the man hissed into my ear.
He even sounded like Arche.
Used the same words Arche had.
It’s not him.
Arche would never wear a filthy hood like that. He didn’t cower in the dark. He didn’t have to.
It’s not him.
Somewhere past the haze of my mind, I heard shouting, and I turned my head just enough to see them—Will and Aran—fighting. Three men were trying to drag them out of the hut.
They weren’t making it easy.
Will kicked out hard, his foot slamming into someone’s gut. Aran threw his head back and cracked it straight into a man’s nose. One of them cursed, grabbed Aran’s arms, and wrenched them behind his back so hard I thought they might snap.
A fist hit his face, and he staggered, but didn’t fall. Will tackled a man to the ground, fists flying. He took a hit to the jaw, but kept swinging..
They put up a good fight.
“Burn them, Kera!” Aran shouted, voice hoarse. “Burn them!”
I reached for the part of me I still called the curse. Maybe it could’ve saved for once. Earned itself a better name.
But I didn’t find it. It felt like someone had poured water straight into my lungs and kept going, flooding me from the inside out. Every vein. Every nerve. Drenched. And the fire smothered. Maybe it was the tea. Or the moon drops. Whatever it was, it had left me soft. Weak.
I thrashed beneath the man holding me, kicked out hard, felt something connect.
He grunted, his weight shifting just enough for me to twist. That’s when I saw his wild eyes.
That was all I could see, his eyes. The rest of his face was hidden behind fabric, a hood pulled low and a cloth wrap tied across his nose and mouth.
I knew him.
He was one of the men from the market. One of the four hooded men who stood by the stall, watching us like they weren’t just passing by. Like they were waiting for something.
I’d forgotten about them, but they hadn’t forgotten about us. And we’d made it so easy for them, sleeping in the woods, in a windshelter like idiots. Making ourselves the easiest target in the world.
Steel kissed my neck and I stilled.
“That’s better,” the man rasped, pushing the blade a little deeper. “Now, let’s not do anything stupid.” He leaned closer, his breath seeping into my skin. “Tell me where the gold is, and this doesn’t have to get ugly.”
I couldn’t speak. How do you say anything with a blade against your throat? He probably didn’t expect an answer anyway. Just wanted to give me the illusion of a choice. So I’d blame myself later.
“Well then, come with me,” he snarled.
Pain exploded through my scalp as he grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me upright. I stumbled, my knees scraping against packed earth beneath me, arms flailing uselessly.
Then a fist.
Straight into my stomach.
The breath punched out of me all at once. White-hot pain bloomed behind my ribs as I folded forward, choking, gasping.
The ground tilted and my vision spun as hands closed around me again, rough and fast, dragging me through the dirt.
Smoke wrapped around me, thick and choking, curling into my mouth every time I tried to breathe. The fire crackled just a few steps away, and one of the men was feeding it. He poured alcohol onto the embers, stirred them with a stick, a flames roared back to life.
I clawed at the ground, my fingers digging deep, searching for anything solid.
I didn’t stop.
I fought. Gods, I fought. I kicked, twisted, threw my whole weight back, but it wasn’t enough. The man kept dragging me closer. The fire was right there, and I could feel it tingling under my skin like something waiting to wake.
I should’ve been able to burn him.
I was a monster. I had fire in my veins. I should’ve been able to turn him to ash.
But I wasn’t burning.
I was drowning.
“Tell us where the gold is, sweetheart,” another man mocked.
Across the fire, I saw Will. He was trying to lift his head. Blood streaked his hair and is face was pale, smeared with red.
Then his eyes found mine.
“Kera!” he cried, voice raw. “Please—don’t hurt her! We’ll give you the gold!”
The man dragging me laughed.
Shoved me closer to the flames.
Heat licked my skin.
“Where is it?” he growled, squeezing my wrist so tight I swore something popped. I bit down the scream. Swallowed it. Choked on it.
I wouldn’t cry.
Not in front of him.
But my body shook, my lungs wouldn’t work and my thoughts spun and slipped and shattered. It was all fire and hands and smoke and pain. And somewhere behind it, I felt myself slipping. Slipping pack into the place I swore I’d never go again.
I saw Will digging through his pack, then Aran’s. His fingers trembling so badly he couldn’t untie the straps. He was going to give it to them. Every coin we had. Every chance we had to eat, to hide, to survive.
Gone.
A crack split the air and Aran cried out. A sharp, broken sound, as a boot slammed into his ribs. He folded over, wheezing. Another kick. Harder. I watched his body lift from the blow and collapse.
“Hurry up,” my captor muttered, voice flat with boredom. He grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. I couldn’t fight it. Couldn’t brace. The knife touched my cheek, light and slow, like he was savoring it.
“Or I’ll start skinning her,” he bellowed. “Maybe I’ll start with her face.”
I heard him. Somewhere inside, I understood every word.
But I couldn’t react. I was stuck in that place where nothing felt real, and my body wasn’t mine.
My thoughts came soft and far away, like they had to swim through a coursing river to reach me.
Everything was flickering. Bending. Too bright and too dark all at once.
The blade pressed again. Cold. Sharp. Real.
Then warmth.
A single drop of blood, sliding down my cheek like a tear.
The man watched it fall. Watched me.
And then he smiled.
As if was a victory to him. He was proud of himself. Probably felt so powerful. A knife, a little blood, a bag of gold, and he thought he’d won. Maybe he’d buy a horse. A warm meal.
I would’ve loved a warm meal too.
But I wouldn’t have hurt someone for it.
“Here,” Will called, his voice shaking. “Take it. It’s yours.”
The sound of coin hitting dirt followed.
Everything we had—gone.
One of the men crouched to gather the coins, stuffing them into his pockets. The one holding me loosened his grip. Just barely. A breath of space.
Then he dragged me back in. Pulled me flush against his side, pressing every inch of sweat and filth into me, and he lowered the knife.
But no part of me felt relief.
“See?” he murmured. “Was that so hard?”
Will was watching me. His eyes wide, burning. Desperate. And when I turned back to the man holding me, I saw it.
I saw it in his eyes.
He’d already won.
But he wasn’t finished.
“Hold them,” he ordered the others, then looked down at me with a smile.
I’ve never seen a smile like that. Not before, not since.
Will barely had time to move before they grabbed him. Hands locked around his arms, yanking him down into the dirt. Aran thrashed like an animal, snarling, kicking, desperate to break free.
Then a fist connected with his jaw.
Hard.
His head whipped sideways. He dropped. Blood smeared his chin and his body sagged in their grip. Will kept fighting. Twisting. Kicking. Trying to throw them off, but he wasn’t strong enough. And they outnumbered him.
My captor tilted his head, watching. Admiring it.
Like it was some kind of sick entertainment.
“Let’s make them watch,” he said.
Then the ground shifted beneath me.
Heat kissed my skin. Just a flicker. Not violent. Not yet.
It was the kind of warmth that fools you. Like sitting too close to the hearth in winter. Like sunlight after days of rain.
It felt soft. Familiar. Safe. But it lied.
Beneath that comfort was something hungry. It watched from the dark. Waiting. Patient. Ready to devour.
The air thickened. Smoke slipped into my lungs, sour and bitter, curling inside my throat like it belonged there.
I knew I should’ve been fighting. Screaming. Thrashing. Doing anything.
But I was so tired.
The flames blurred in and out of focus. I didn’t know if I was standing or falling. I couldn’t tell where my body ended and the heat began. Everything felt far away.
Screams ripped out of Will, raw and earth-shaking. He sobbed. Pleaded. Begged them to be merciful. But I knew it didn’t matter.
They enjoyed it.
Every second of it.