Elara paced around her small cottage, the visitor's words still echoing in her mind. She hadn't slept.
The fire in the hearth had long since burned out, leaving the room bathed in cold darkness, but her mind was far from idle. Her hands trembled as she packed the last of her supplies into her satchel.
She could feel the forest outside her window watching, the silence pressing against the walls of her home like an approaching storm.
The cursed prince's men are close. They will come for you soon.Her heart pounded in her chest as she tried to calm herself. She couldn't stay here—not when she knew what was coming. But where would she go? The forests beyond her village were vast and dangerous, home to wild creatures and dark magic.
And yet, she knew the woods better than anyone. Her connection to the earth and its rhythms had always guided her. If she had to run, she would use that knowledge to evade capture, to stay one step ahead.
A sudden noise outside made her freeze. The crack of a branch, the rustle of leaves. It could have been the wind, but her instincts told her otherwise. Someone was out there.
Elara pressed her back against the door, listening carefully, her breath shallow.
The quiet crept in again, unnerving in its stillness. She reached for the small dagger she kept on the table, its worn leather handle familiar in her hand, but inadequate against the force she felt coming.Slowly, she opened the door, just enough to peer outside.
The forest loomed dark and silent, but a flicker of movement caught her eye. Her pulse quickened.
There, standing among the trees, was a figure. Not the hunched form of the traveler from the night before, but something else. A man, tall and shrouded in a dark cloak, his face obscured by the shadows. His presence felt like a weight, pressing down on the very air around him.
But it wasn't just his appearance that unsettled her—it was the way he stood perfectly still, watching her. As if waiting.
Elara's heart pounded in her chest, and she gripped the dagger tighter. She couldn't confront him, not head-on. The visitor's warning had been clear: they were here for her, and they would not hesitate to take her by force.
Without making a sound, Elara slipped out the back door of her cottage, keeping low to the ground as she moved swiftly into the dense forest. The trees were her shield, their shadows long and protective. She could feel the earth beneath her feet, guiding her, whispering paths of safety.
She moved through the underbrush with practiced ease, each step careful, each breath steady.But the feeling of being watched never left her.
The figure was still out there, somewhere in the darkness, following her.
She could feel his presence as surely as she could feel the heartbeat of the forest around her. He was hunting her. And he was getting closer.
Elara didn't stop moving until the sun began to rise, its light barely touching the treetops.
She found herself deep in the forest now, far from the village, but still too close for comfort. The trees here were older, their roots twisted and thick, rising from the earth like the bones of some ancient creature. It was a place few dared to venture, but Elara knew it well.
Her grandmother had brought her here as a child, teaching her the ways of the forest, the secrets it held.She crouched beside a large tree, its bark rough against her back as she tried to catch her breath.
She listened intently, but the forest had returned to its eerie silence. Had she lost him? Or was he still out there, waiting for her to let her guard down?A soft breeze rustled the leaves, and for the briefest moment, Elara allowed herself to relax. But that moment was short-lived.
From the corner of her eye, she saw it—a flash of silver in the distance, like moonlight on water. It was him. The hunter. The cursed prince's man.
Elara's grip tightened on her dagger. She couldn't run forever. She had to face him.Slowly, she rose to her feet, her eyes scanning the trees for any sign of movement. The forest was still, almost unnaturally so.
And then, out of the shadows, he emerged.The man stepped forward, his cloak brushing the forest floor as he moved with a quiet grace that belied the danger he carried.
His silver hair gleamed in the early morning light, catching her off guard. It was rare, almost unnatural, and she knew then who he was.A prince's man.
He stopped a few paces from her, his cold gray eyes locking onto hers. There was something unsettling in his gaze, something that sent a chill down her spine. But Elara didn't back down. She stood her ground, her heart racing but her resolve firm.
"What do you want?" she demanded, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her insides.The man didn't speak at first, only watched her with those cold, calculating eyes.
Then, slowly, he reached into his cloak and pulled out a small scroll, holding it out to her.
Elara eyed it warily, but didn't move to take it.
"The prince," the man said, his voice as cold as his eyes, "wishes to make you an offer."