I collapsed against the rough stone of a narrow alley wall, gasping for air like I’d been drowning.
I looked down—my hands were shaking, but there they were. Whole. My clothes had made it through, as had my necklace. So had the medicine. The bag was still slung over my shoulder, heavy and real.
Somehow, it had all come with me.
I didn’t have time to understand it. I just knew two things.
The Shades knew what I was.
And I still had to save Finn.
Time wasn’t on my side. Every second counted. The pain screamed through my limbs, but I forced it down and ran—hard and fast. I couldn’t afford to slow, couldn’t afford to feel.
The chaos became my cloak.
No one spared a glance at the mud-soaked, blood-smeared girl weaving through the carnage. There were too many like me today. The wounded. The frantic. The dying.
Crowds flooded the streets like a tide, clogging roads and alleyways, wailing and shoving and screaming. When the Shades finally broke through the castle gates, black-cloaked and hunting, they were forced to halt—snarling in frustration as the flood of bodies slowed their pursuit.
For now, I was a ghost in the storm. Hidden in plain sight.
I watched Thorne emerge from the gates on a beautiful black steed, looking purposeful. I ducked deeper into my hiding place as he searched the crowd for where I went. There was a frustration in his face that surprised me. I had expected rage, but there was none. Just irritation, like I was an inconvenience that had infiltrated his day. Behind him I saw the other three ride on giant stallions like the four horsemen of the Apocalypse.
Thorne yelled a command and the path cleared as people scurried to escape the Shades wrath. I waited, back tracking enough so he headed off the wrong direction.
He would hunt me now, like all the others.
I have to get to Finn.
Before the Shades got to me. I knew it wouldn’t take long.
I ducked and weaved through passageways until I was sure no one was following me. When I finally got to the ruins, I heard a loud moaning sound that sent horror to my very soul.
Finn was in agony.
I burst into the room and found him writhing on the floor, his body seizing violently. Vomit spilled from the corners of his mouth. His skin, when I touched it, was scorching—drenched in sweat, his muscles twitching with every pulse of pain.
“No, no, no. Stay with me, Finn. Please stay with me,” I begged, dropping to my knees. I cradled his head in my lap, trying to still the tremors racking his body.
“Elle… Elle…” he gasped, barely conscious, his eyes glassy and unfocused.
“I’m here,” I whispered fiercely. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
My hands flew to the bag. I rummaged through the stolen supplies, breath hitching, until I found a bottle of antibiotics. My eyes skimmed the label, the instructions. I poured a measured dose into his mouth, helping him swallow even as he choked, his body resisting everything.
“Easy. Please… just hold on.”
I soaked a cloth at the tap and gently pressed it to his forehead, wiping away the fevered sweat. His body finally stilled in my arms, but his breaths came in shallow, raspy gasps. Too fast. Too thin. He was still fading.
I don’t know how long I sat there, rocking him gently, whispering nonsense against his temple. My tears slid freely down my face, dripping into the hollow of his throat, sliding across his burning skin like rain. I couldn’t lose him. Not him. Not now.
I stared at the door that led to the woods.
Out back, I had a wheelbarrow with a flat tyre—I knew that much. I could carry him. Maybe. But then what? Where could I go?
The woods loomed beyond, dark and dangerous. No shelter, no paths. Food would have to be hunted or scavenged—but I could manage that. I had before.
I ran, grabbed the wheelbarrow, and wheeled it back, thumping it down beside him.
