The dim illumination of the moon shone on the successor's smirk, his dark eyes glimmering with contentment. His footsteps crunched over the dry leaves of the woodland floor, causing every muscle in my body to tense and my breath to catch in my throat.
With a tone that was almost conversational, he remarked, "You've put up quite a fight." "But, Olivia, this is the end of it."
Beside me, Ethan moaned softly as he gripped my arm feebly. I held on to him tighter, my heart thumping so loudly that it overpowered the surrounding trees' rustle. Marcus, his knife shining dimly in the moonlight, stood between us and the successor.
Marcus remarked, "You're outnumbered," in a calm, low voice, but his tense posture betrayed what he was saying.
The successor's grin widened as he tilted his head. "Am I?"
