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 likeArche.
Was I ever going to be free of him? Because I still saw him. Still felt him. He was alwaysthere, 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 ofthem 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, hiseyes. 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 werewaitingfor 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.
