Her fingers dug into the damp soil, nails packing with earth as though she could anchor herself to the ground and stop the terror from swallowing her whole. Her lips trembled uncontrollably, breath coming in shallow bursts that burned her throat. Every instinct screamed at her to run, to beg, to survive.
But another voice rose from somewhere deeper.
Older. Colder. Sharper.
Kill him before he can kill you.
The words did not sound like a thought. They felt like a command carved into her bones.
And she listened.
Her eyes parted open slowly, lashes lifting with unnatural heaviness. The world seemed to pause in that moment — the rustling leaves, the distant trickle of the stream, even the knight's advancing movement — everything suspended in a fragile silence.
Then her irises ignited.
