His hands around my throat. The way the world narrowed. The way my breath had failed.
And the Hollow knows it.
It knows everything inside me—the flaws, the fears, the fractures.
It wants to use them all.
“Is there… another option?” I ask the creature, my voice dangerously thin, low enough that Ryder won’t hear.
I know the answer before the question leaves my mouth. As if the Hollow would ever be merciful. As if something wrapped so completely in malice could offer forgiveness.
I wonder, in this moment, if the creature was once human—if it ever knew love. If it began its journey the same way I did, chasing the gem, believing survival meant victory… only for the Hollow to reach it first.
Maybe this is what happens when you fail a trial. Maybe it’s worse than death.
Maybe you become the Hollow’s whore, condemned to inflict pain on others, knighting them with the very blade that damned you.
Its grin stretches horribly and brings me back to the present.
“Death amongst friends.”
Its laugh is dry and scraped bare—a sound that doesn’t need lungs.
“You choose who to end.”
My blood turns to ice.
“That won’t be necessary,” I snap, desperately, and Ryder steps toward me instinctively—expecting, assuming,hopingthe answer is him.
But the Hollow isn’t testing courage. Or love.
It’s testing the fault lines.
If I kiss River… I risk everything with Ryder. I’d confirm his worst fear: that I don’t trust him anymore. That maybe I never will.
If I kiss Ryder… I crush River. I give him something bright for one breath—only to snuff it out the next.
My chest tightens like I’ve swallowed barbed wire.
“Make your choice,”the creature hisses.
And then Ziek screams.
His body collapses, knees slamming into the forest floor, hands clawing at his skull as if invisible fingers are digging inside.
“Or he dies.”
My mind fractures between the two possibilities, unable to choose. My feet move anyway, driven by Ziek’s frantic cries and the thunder of my own heartbeat.
…Toward River.
It’s instinct. No—strategy. No—Desperation. Sacrifice or survival—I can’t tell. It’s all twisted together so tightly I can’t separate them.
You can’t outrun the Hollow. You can’t hide from it. It has eyes everywhere—in every crevice, every ridge, every vine, every gap in the awning above.
I turn, tears already burning behind my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Ryder.”
