My heart slams against my ribs as my lungs struggle for air, his weight crushing me until the darkness bleeds into my vision.
“This is all your fault… It’s like you want to die.” The gnarled smile returns, stretching further, appearing to reach his earlobes. My hands scramble at the dirt, then at his hands around my neck. I scratch his skin until it is raw and try to remove them, but they are fixed like glue, only bearing more weight with every struggle. “You’re so weak,” he speaks through gritted teeth. “You should have killed me when you had the chance.”
I am weak, my arms have no strength left in them, and all my legs can do is tremble. They sink like lead into the dirt, unable to support me. The embers in his eyes flicker like all they know is rage.
And I sink.
deeper and deeper into his grip.
My breaths wheezing—failing.
Until I lay limp in his arms.
Chapter Seventeen
“Asha, wake up!”
“Asha, you’re okay, wake up!”
My eyes jerk open and jolt awake, the panic still clinging to my lungs with every staggered breath.
“It’s okay.” Nala’s hands are gently rubbing the small of my back whilst Ryder and River’s eyes loom over me, concerned. “You’re okay.”
My mind slowly unfolds the depths of my imagination. It was a dream. A realistic and traumatic one at that, but it was a dream, and Ryder’s okay.
“Thank you,” I say softly, my brow thick with sweat. She flashes me a small smile, one that calms my nerves.
“Did you have a nightmare again?” She questions, and though I don’t respond, my eyes say enough.
“You’ve been having nightmares?” Ryder interrupts, crouching down to my level, and Nala backs a way a little. “When were you going to tell me about this?”
“It’s nothing really, I didn’t want you to worry.”
“It didn’t seem like nothing.” He assesses, his dark eyes tracing mine. I didn’t realise before, but it’s daylight now, and the sun makes a better attempt at piercing through the forest than the moon did. “Are they always the same?”
“Most of the time,” I answer, averting my eyes from his.
“What are they about?” He asks, the tone of his voice much gentler than the one he used in my dreams, though it still sends a cold shiver down my spine. I can’t tell him that it’s he who plagues my sleep, his eyes, his hands, always the same. Alright, the locations may change, but he is always there, draining the life from me as he did that day.
“The mountain,” I mutter the words, the ground looking overly interesting in this moment. I feel it. The silence that follows after those two words, as if they hold as much weight as an avalanche—thick and unnerving.
A flicker of recognition ignites in his eyes, a twist of guilt and pain pulsing like the ink through his veins. A muscle in his jaw jumps, and he looks away for a brief moment as if he knows he haunts my dreams.
“You should have told me.” He stretches his arm out and pulls me to my feet when I take it. Though I know, he knows why I didn’t.
***
The forest is a warning around us. Even when it isn’t plunged in darkness. Every subtle noise is large enough to manipulate my heartbeat, upping its tempo. Moss clings to everything—roots, stones, even the air feels heavy with it—its damp scent filling my lungs with every breath. The trees stand impossibly tall, their trunks swollen with age, their bark carved by time into deep grooves that look almost like teeth marks.
The ground softens underfoot, each step sinking slightly into layers of rotting leaves. Strange fungi glow faintly along fallen logs, pulsing like dying embers. The low mist is still thick and curling at our ankles, shifting with every blow of the wind, as if the forest itself is watching us breathe.
Birdsong is nonexistent. Even insects have gone silent.
Only the creak of branches follows us.
As the path widens, the trees pull back in uneven intervals, leaving pockets of open space scattered amongst the dense undergrowth. It feels less like natural clearings and more like the forest is stepping aside… revealing things.
That’s when I see it.
