Despite the warmth of his touch and the reassuring weight of his arms, Salviana's fear lingered like a persistent ghost. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the mindless royalties reaching to slay them.
As they stepped out of their chambers, the hallway felt narrower than usual, the shadows longer. She clutched Alaric's arm, her fingers digging into the leather of his sleeve.
She was the Fire, and he was the Darkness, but as the horns sounded from the courtyard, signaling the start of the hunt, Salviana couldn't help but feel that they were walking directly into the belly of the horror she had spent all night trying to escape.
The nightmare wasn't over. It was just beginning.
Alaric walked with a terrifyingly calm confidence, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade, his senses already fanned out to catch the slightest ripple in the air.
