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Felicia jolted awake, her breath coming in shallow, rapid gasps. Her eyes darted around, wild and unfocused, as her body jerked upright. Her hands were trembling, and her heart pounded so loudly in her chest it felt like it might burst.
For a moment, she didn't know where she was. The smell of blood, the sound of dark whispers, the feeling of that terrifying figure in the shadows… It all clung to her like a fog.
But then, a strong hand gripped her shoulder.
"Felicia." Nelson's voice, rough yet familiar, grounded her.
She blinked, forcing herself to focus. The darkness receded, and the real world came into view. They were in the carriage, the heavy wheels rattling beneath them as they made their way back to the estate.
Nelson sat beside her, his body battered from the battle but very much alive, his sharp, piercing eyes fixed on her with concern.
It had been a dream.
Felicia's chest heaved as the nightmare's grip loosened, the memory of that terrible figure fading. But the fear still lingered, so real, so raw that she almost reached out to touch Nelson's arm just to confirm he was actually there.
"You were dreaming," Nelson said quietly, his voice a low rumble. Despite his exhaustion, he hadn't missed her panic, and his gaze softened in a way only she had ever seen. "A bad one, from the looks of it."
Felicia's hand went to her chest, trying to steady her breathing. The vividness of the dream still weighed heavily on her, as if it had been more than just her mind playing tricks.
She could still feel the cold of the dark figure's presence, hear its voice rasping through her skull, and could still see the moment when Nelson had been swallowed by darkness. The thought of losing him had torn through her like a blade, and the feeling hadn't quite left.
She forced herself to nod. "Yes… just a dream," she murmured, her voice trembling slightly. Her eyes scanned him, searching for signs of injury, but beyond the bruises and cuts from the battle with Ryker's men, Nelson was whole. He was alive. *Not taken by any darkness.*
Nelson watched her carefully. "You were restless the whole ride. Kept mumbling something about shadows… and someone taking me."
Felicia shivered, glancing out the carriage window to the moonlit path beyond, the dark forest surrounding them on either side. The night was calm, but her mind was still playing tricks on her, making her see flickers of movement in the shadows between the trees.
"It felt so real," she admitted, her voice quieter now. She finally looked back at him, meeting his intense gaze. "You… you were taken by something. Something ancient. I tried to stop it, but I couldn't. You were gone, Nelson."
Nelson's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face. But then his hand, rough and warm, reached for hers, his fingers wrapping firmly around hers. "I'm still here," he said firmly. "You haven't lost me."
Felicia held onto his hand tightly, as if to convince herself of that fact. The battle had been brutal, pushing them all to their limits. Ryker's forces had been ruthless, but they had won—barely.
And now, despite the victory, Felicia couldn't shake the feeling that they were still teetering on the edge of something far darker. Maybe it was just the aftermath of the fight, the adrenaline still fading from her veins, but the dream… it felt like a warning.
"I just can't stop thinking about how close we came," she whispered, lowering her gaze. "If things had gone differently…"
Nelson shifted beside her, wincing slightly as he moved his injured leg. "They didn't," he said, his tone sharp, though not directed at her.
He was still in his battle-hardened mode, where any sign of weakness felt like a threat. "Ryker's men are scattered, and Ryker himself is licking his wounds somewhere in the woods. We won. That's all that matters."
Felicia nodded, but she couldn't let go of the dream. "I don't think it's just Ryker," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "What if there's something else coming? Something worse?"
Nelson's eyes narrowed slightly. "You mean what you saw in your dream?"
Felicia hesitated, feeling a bit foolish now that she was saying it aloud. But the fear gnawing at her hadn't faded. "I don't know. It just… it felt different. Like it wasn't just a dream."
Nelson studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, surprisingly, he nodded, as if considering her words carefully. "Dreams are tricky things," he said quietly. "They can show us what we fear most, or what we hope for. Sometimes, they're nothing. Sometimes, they're a warning."
His grip tightened on her hand. "But no matter what that dream was, I'm not going anywhere, Felicia. Not without a fight."
His words brought some comfort, though the uneasy feeling in her gut remained. Felicia leaned back against the cushioned seat, her hand still wrapped in Nelson's, drawing strength from his presence.
He was right—they had survived the battle, they had won. But something deep inside her whispered that the real war was far from over.
The carriage rolled on through the darkened woods, the rhythmic sound of the wheels and the creaking of the wooden frame filling the quiet.
Nelson closed his eyes, clearly exhausted, but Felicia remained awake, her mind racing. She kept her gaze on the shadows outside the window, searching for any sign of movement.
Suddenly, the carriage lurched, jostling them both. Nelson's eyes snapped open, instantly alert. Felicia's heart skipped a beat as she peered out the window, her grip tightening on Nelson's arm.
"What was that?" she asked, her voice tense.
Before Nelson could answer, the carriage came to a complete stop, the horses whinnying nervously. Outside, the air seemed to shift, a sudden chill seeping through the wooden frame.
Nelson's hand went instinctively to the gun holstered at his side. He glanced at Felicia, his expression grim. "Stay here," he ordered quietly, though they both knew she wouldn't listen.
The door to the carriage creaked open, and Nelson stepped out into the night. Felicia followed, despite the tension crackling in the air. Her heart raced as they scanned the dark forest, their breath visible in the sudden, unnatural cold.
There was nothing at first—just the rustling of the wind through the trees. But then, a sound. Faint at first, then growing louder. A low, echoing whisper carried through the night, sending a chill down Felicia's spine.
And from the shadows between the trees, something moved.
A tall, cloaked figure stepped into view, its face obscured by a dark hood. The same figure from Felicia's dream. It stood at the edge of the moonlight, silent and menacing.
Felicia's blood ran cold.
Nelson stepped forward, his jaw clenched, his gun raised. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice steady, but Felicia could hear the tension beneath it.
The figure didn't respond. It simply raised its hand, and the whispering grew louder, swirling around them like a storm.
Felicia's heart pounded in her chest, the nightmare crashing back into her mind. This time, she wasn't dreaming.
The figure took another step forward, and in a voice that was both familiar and terrifying, it spoke:
"Your dream wasn't just a dream, Felicia. I'm here for him."
And then, with a flick of its hand, the shadows surged forward, and just when everything was about to go dark….