He brushes past me on his way to clean up before supper, pausing just long enough to kiss me deeply. The kids erupt with a chorus of disgust that fills the room, pulling a laugh from me I can’t hold back. Smiling, I shake my head and corral everyone toward the table, the familial warmth lingering as we settle in for dinner.
We sit together as the sun sinks low, painting the sky with hues of gold and crimson, casting long shadows across the farm. The fire crackles beside us, emitting a soft glow. The children curl up in front of it, their faces lit with the warmth of the flames and the safety of this place. The evening air is cool, but the peace inside me is warmer than anything the fire could offer. I glance at Callum, his smile radiant as he watches the children, his joy shining through in a way that makes my heart swell. I never imagined this kind of life, this kind of family, could be mine. No more hiding. No more running. Just us—just this.
I lean back, resting my head against Casper’s chest, his arm around me, pulling me close. The warmth soothes me, reminding me that no matter what comes, we’ve found something real here. Something worth holding onto. We sit together, as the sun dips below thehorizon. It’s perfect. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted. A family. A future.
But then, the ground beneath me begins to tremble, just slightly at first, like the echo of something terrible creeping in. The wind picks up, turning cold. The once-soft sky darkens, the stars vanishing, swallowed by an overwhelming blackness. The joy in the air shifts, and I hear it—the faint sound of hooves.
I try to turn, but my body refuses to move.
Just moments ago, Casper was behind me, close enough to touch. Now, in an instant, he’s near the children. Panic grips me as I realize I can’t reach him, can’t even call out to him. He stands frozen, his figure unnervingly still. The children’s laughter has vanished, replaced by an eerie, suffocating silence that wraps around us. The fire dies, and in the shadows beyond the barn, figures begin to appear. Their eyes glow faintly, hungry, like wolves on the hunt.
It happens in an instant.
Callum’s laughter falters, morphing into a shout—but it’s already too late. I see a dark figure emerging from the shadows. The arrow flies through the air in slow motion, and I watch, helpless, as it pierces his chest. The impact is brutal, the sound of it a sickening thud, and he stumbles back, blood splattering against the darkened earth.
"Callum!"I scream, but my voice is swallowed by the rising wind, by the terrifying howl of something far worse than death.
He falls to his knees, his hand clutching at the arrow, his breath coming in short, jagged gasps. His face contorts in pain, but he never looks away from me. His eyes are filled with agony, with a silent plea for help that I can’t answer. And then, he crumples to the ground, his body still, lifeless in the fading light. I turn, searching for Casper and the children, but they’re gone—swallowed by the shadows as if they were never there. The silence around me stretches, broken only by Gwyn’s distant screams echoing from the depths of the darkness.
I rush toward Callum, but the world seems to close in around me. The barn is gone, the farm disappearing like smoke. The shadows grow longer, stretching into every corner, and the air is thick withfear. There’s no escaping this nightmare. No escape from the terror of seeing him gone, of losing everything in an instant. The darkness presses in, and my heart is beating out of control, my breath ragged, as the nightmare drags me deeper into the void.
"Callum!" I cry out, my voice laden with panic.
I wake with a sharp gasp, lungs straining, heart racing as if trying to escape whatever evil still haunts the edges of my sleep. My skin is cold with sweat, and the room around me feels suddenly unfamiliar, the walls closing in like the darkness in my dream. But then, from the shadows, I hear a familiar laugh—sly and smooth.
“Well, well, do tell me how I am in your dreams, Your Grace.”
I blink, disoriented, and turn to see Callum standing there, his eyes glinting with that mischievous spark, his smile crooked and teasing. My heart races again, but this time with relief.
He’s here. He’s safe.
The nightmare fades like mist under the light of reality, and I find myself reaching for him, my hands trembling. He sits beside me, brow knitted in concern, as he watches me catch my breath. Then, without a word, he lifts my scarred hand, pressing it gently to his chest. I feel the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm, grounding me, reminding me that it was just a dream. But the fear lingers.
"Feel, Lailah," he says, his voice low and intimate as he says my name for the first time.
His heartbeat steadies beneath my hand. I meet his gaze as his thumb brushes my scarred hand.
“It appears you missed me,” he says, his lips curling into a smirk as he pulls me forward.
Callum kisses the back of my scarred hand, the gesture so gentle, so filled with understanding, that I feel a crack form in the walls I’ve built around myself. I’ve only let him and Casper touch me so freely like this. But with both of them, it’s different. For the first time, I wonder if this—this shared moment of tenderness—could be something more than the fear that binds us.
Footsteps begin to echo through the cave’s mouth, and my hand falls from Callum’s chest. Together, we turn, and our eyes meetCasper’s. Without a word, he gestures toward the entrance, silently beckoning us into the cool embrace of the night. As we step outside the cave's mouth, a familiar figure greets me—Zander, his sleek coat dappled with moonlight, his head bent as he savors the crisp bite of an apple. A rush of warmth floods through me, a rare and fleeting happiness breaking through.
I step toward him, my hand outstretched, drawn to the comforting presence of him. Memories I cannot fully piece together stir in my mind, fragments of a forgotten past. But before my fingers can brush his mane, Casper’s touch halts me—a soft hand at my elbow, firm yet careful.
He shakes his head and his hand curls around mine as he leads me away. I glance back once, offering Zander a silent promise, before following Casper. Callum trails behind, the rocky path crunching beneath our feet as we climb toward a hidden trail winding through the darkened edges of the stone fortress.
Down below, I see Gwyn, Alias, and Malachi gathered in a small circle, their voices hushed. Alias carries a flickering torch, its golden light a beacon of warmth in the cool air. As we step down onto the solid ground below, Gwyn’s face lights up the moment she sees me, her dark eyes shimmering with relief and joy. Her expression softens in a way I haven’t seen before, as if the agony of waiting has finally eased. Without hesitation, she crosses the short distance between us, her arms opening wide as she pulls me into a gentle embrace.
Her touch is warm and steady, the kind of embrace that feels like the sun breaking through storm clouds. She holds me as if she’s afraid to let go, her breath steadying as she rests her chin briefly on my shoulder. It’s not the tentative, unsure touch I’ve known most of my life—this is open, heartfelt, and completely unguarded. For a moment, I’m caught off guard by her vulnerability.
I hesitate before wrapping my arms around her in return, unsure of what to make of this strange, comforting moment. Gwyn pulls me closer, her grip firm, as if to say,You’re here. You’re safe.It’s an odd sensation—this sense of being welcomed, of belonging. Her happinessfeels genuine, and it warms something deep within me that I didn’t realize had gone cold.
When she finally pulls back, Gwyn keeps hold of my hands, her fingers curling around mine with a careful tenderness. She looks down at them, at the scars I can’t hide, but there’s no flinch, no hesitation. Her thumb brushes across the jagged lines as if she’s telling me there’s nothing here to be ashamed of.
“I was so worried,” she says softly, her voice trembling just enough to betray how much she’d been holding in. “You’re... okay.”
Her relief stirs something deep in me, something close to gratitude, though the words fail to come. Instead, I glance down at our joined hands, marveling at how easily she holds me, scars and all, as if they don’t matter in the slightest. Malachi’s gaze lingers, studying me as if measuring the distance between who I was and who I’ve become. His eyes are calculating, making sure I am whole enough for whatever comes next.
