The sun hung low in the sky, its light casting long shadows over the path ahead. Verina walked in silence, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if warding off the chill of the afternoon. Sam followed a step behind, his presence quiet but inescapable, like a shadow that refused to let her go.
Her thoughts churned restlessly. Aleris's words echoed in her mind, sharp and accusatory. You and I, we are bound by blood. What did that mean? Why was she so tied to these people, tied to this cursed destiny she didn't even understand?
She tried to focus on the rhythm of her footsteps, the crunch of gravel beneath her boots, but it didn't help. The silence between them felt suffocating. Sam's quiet presence weighed on her, though he never pushed.
"You're quiet," he said, his voice breaking the silence like a distant ripple in an otherwise still lake.
"I have nothing to say to you," Verina replied without looking back. Her voice was colder than she intended, but she didn't care.
Sam didn't respond immediately. His gaze lingered on her tense shoulders, the way her fists clenched at her sides. "You're angry."
She stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him. "Angry?" Her laugh was hollow, bitter. "I've just had my entire life turned upside down. I've been lied to, manipulated, and dragged into something I don't understand. And now, I have you—following me, showing up out of nowhere. So yes, Sam, I am angry."
His expression didn't change, but there was something in his eyes—an almost imperceptible flicker of regret. "I understand."
"You don't," she shot back. "You can't. Because you always know everything, don't you? Always one step ahead, ever so mysterious. But when I need answers, you have nothing."
The words hung in the air like a challenge, but Sam didn't rise to it. Instead, he took a step closer, his movements deliberate and measured. "If you want me to leave, say the word, and I will. But I'm not your enemy, Verina."
Her jaw tightened. "Then stop acting like one."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them was heavy with unspoken words, the distance more than just physical.
They resumed walking, the tension simmering but unspoken. The path grew narrower, the forest on either side pressing in with an oppressive stillness. Verina's unease grew with each step, a gnawing feeling in her gut she couldn't shake.
"You feel it too," Sam said, his voice low. It wasn't a question.
Verina glanced at him, her breath catching. His posture had changed, his body taut like a predator sensing danger. His hand hovered near the hilt of a blade she hadn't noticed before, hidden beneath his cloak.
"What's going on?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Stay close to me," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Before she could respond, the attack came.
A blur of motion erupted from the trees, and a figure cloaked in black lunged at her with a blade. Verina stumbled back, a cry escaping her lips, but Sam was faster. He intercepted the strike with his own weapon, the clash of steel ringing out in the still night.
"Run!" He ordered, his voice sharp with command.
But Verina couldn't move. She stood frozen, her eyes wide as Sam engaged the assassin with a speed and precision that defied belief. His movements were fluid, almost inhuman, as if he were dancing rather than fighting.
The assassin was relentless, their strikes fast and calculated, but Sam countered each one with ease. His blade moved like an extension of himself, each swing purposeful and deadly.
Verina's heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to scream, to do something, but her body refused to obey.
A sudden misstep from the assassin gave Sam the opening he needed. He disarmed them with a swift strike, sending their blade clattering to the ground. But instead of delivering the killing blow, he hesitated.
The assassin took advantage of the pause, retreating into the shadows with a low growl. The silence that followed was deafening.
Sam turned to Verina, his chest heaving with exertion. "Are you hurt?"
She shook her head, her voice lost. Her eyes darted to the discarded blade, then back to him. "You knew," she whispered.
"What?"
"You knew this was going to happen," she accused, her voice rising. "You knew someone was coming for me, and you didn't say anything."
Sam didn't deny it. He sheathed his blade, his expression unreadable. "I suspected."
"Suspected?" Her voice cracked with anger. "You let me walk into a trap!"
"I didn't want to alarm you," he said, his tone calm but firm. "If I'd been wrong—"
"But you weren't wrong!" she interrupted, her frustration boiling over. "And now I'm supposed to what? Thank you for saving me? Trust you after this?"
His gaze softened, but there was a flicker of something darker beneath. "I didn't want to involve you in this. But Aleris won't stop. You need to understand that."
"No," she said, shaking her head. "What I need is for you to stop lying to me."
Sam stepped closer, but she backed away, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Verina—"
Her heart beat heavy in her chest. She stepped back, holding her ground. "Don't," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Just... don't say anything else. Stay away from me."
He hesitated, the words on his lips unspoken. For the first time, he looked uncertain, as if he didn't know how to bridge the growing chasm between them.
"Fine," he said finally, his voice quiet. "I'll go. But this isn't over, Verina. Not by a long shot."
She didn't reply. She couldn't. The anger and confusion swirling inside her left no room for anything else. Her chest ached with the weight of everything unsaid, the confusion threatening to drown her. Sam's figure disappeared into the night, and she sank to her knees, trembling, pressing her hands to her face. The tears she'd fought to hold back finally spilled over.
Alone again.
The weight of her own solitude pressed against her, and she wasn't sure which felt worse—the emptiness or the fear of what was coming next.