I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to just push past her and tear this village apart until I find Senna myself. "Because she's my soulmate and I can feel her hurting and it's driving me out of my godsdamn mind."
Something shifts in the woman's expression—not quite softening, but close. "You really care about her."
It's not a question, but I answer anyway. "Yes."
"She can't be hurt by someone else," the woman says quietly. "She's been through enough. If you're going to walk into her life and make promises you can't keep?—"
"I'm not going to hurt her." The words come out fierce, absolute. "I swear on my life, on anything, I'm not going to hurt her."
The woman holds my gaze for another beat, then sighs. "The blacksmith shop. Edge of the village, south side. You'll know it by the smoke."
I'm already moving before she finishes speaking.
"Lorenth."
I glance back.
Her face is serious, almost grave. "Get her out of there. Please."
I don't answer. Just turn and head south, my stride eating up the distance.
The blacksmith shop is easy to find—exactly where she said it would be, with smoke rising from the forge chimney. It's a squat stone building with a faded sign hanging above the door, the paint so chipped I can barely make out the words.
I push the door open, stepping into the dim interior.
The front room is cluttered with tools and half-finished projects, metal glinting in the low light from the forge visible through a doorway at the back. But there's no one here. No sound except the faint crackle of embers.
I'm about to call out when I hear it.
A cry. Sharp and pained and unmistakably Senna.
Every rational thought evaporates.
I move on pure instinct, crossing the shop in three strides and shoving through the back doorway into what looks like a small workspace.
And there she is.
On her knees on the stone floor, one hand pressed to her face, her black curls falling forward to hide her expression.
And standing over her, arm raised like he's about to strike again, is the same bastard who dragged her away yesterday.
Rage detonates in my chest.
I don't think. Don't plan. Just surge forward and grab him by the back of his tunic, yanking him away from her with enough force to send him stumbling backward.
"What the fuck—" he starts, spinning toward me.
I don't let him finish.
My fist connects with his jaw with a satisfying crack, and he goes down hard, his head hitting the edge of the workbench on the way. He crumples to the floor and doesn't move.
Good. Saves me the trouble of hitting him again.
I turn to Senna, dropping to my knees beside her.
She's trembling, her whole body shaking like she's been caught in a winter storm. Her hand is still pressed to her cheek, and when I gently pull it away, I see fresh blood welling from a split in her lip. The bruise from yesterday has darkened to an ugly purple-black, and there's a new one forming along her jaw.
Fury roars through me again, so sharp I can taste it.
