Page 65 of Cursed Shadows 4

“Is that her? a female calls out. “Over there, in the water, look!”

I stiffen on the rocks.

I stare at the clear water, and there’s only one thought in my mind as the echo is followed by the thunder of pounding bootsteps—

You have got to be fucking kidding.

“That’s her! Go, go—get her!”

I shove up onto my hands and knees. The tears blur my sight as I scan the rockpool. But I see no signs of other fae, not around me.

Then I hear it, the familiar bass of his voice, the call of my name that’s wracked with worry…

“Nari!”

My gaze snaps up to the edge of the forest.

There, I see the female litalf who spotted me, her brown leathers melting into the shade of the tree trunks, a camouflage for nature. Another is hot on her heels, a light male I have seen around the High Court over the years.

It’s the third male who holds my gaze for a beat.

Ronan.

He casts a worried look my way before he turns and chases after his comrades. They run the curve of the forest edge to the slope. It’s a straight drop down to the rockpool—one that the female litalf takes no pause in jumping.

She lands on the other side of the shallow water.

A groan rumbles me, and I stagger to my feet.

I give no moment of hesitation before I’ve pushed into a sprint, and I’m barrelling for the trees closest to me.

Behind me, the splash of the rockpool is too close, too loud. I can hear their boots kicking up water as they trudge after me.

But I am faster, not just because I am not running through water, but because I have to be. Because, if I slow down or trip over or pause to look back, it will cost me my life.

Even with Ronan among them, I am not safe. He will only kill with regret and a whispered apology, but he will kill me all the same.

Just the thought of it snatches me back to lilac eyes, a knife in my shoulder, a wound that bleeds freely down my side, that screams with every jerk of my arm to keep pace with my run.

I trusted Ridge.

And look where that got me.

Chased into the forest by three more of my kind, one a brother of sorts, and all three out to kill me. Because they must. For Licht. For the light.

I am not willing to die for a cause.

I will not give my life for the greater purpose of it all.

I am no one’s sacrifice.

So, I run.

I race into the treeline and barrel through the forest, not pausing for the branches that whip me, scratch my cheeks, tug at my braids.

The bounce of my backpack smacks against the small of my spine, over and over and over, and with the bruises already blossomed there, each smack chokes me with a deep ache.

I keep running.

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