The cuffs bit into her wrists as the soldiers dragged her down the crumbling path. Rain fell in steady sheets, soaking through her cloak and into her skin. Her dark hair clung to her face, tangled and soaked, framing high cheekbones and sharp grey eyes.
Even now, broken and bound, she carried herself with a quiet strength that made it hard to look away. It wasn't just her looks. There was something in the way she held herself, in the fire still burning behind her gaze.
The soldier at her side gave her a shove. "Keep moving."
Zora stumbled over a stone and didn't fall. She straightened, her chin lifting defiantly. Her cloak hung heavy with mud, but the rain couldn't wash away the memories clinging to her mind.
"You don't have to run."
"They'll come for me" she'd whispered.
"Not if you stay with me."
She'd believed him. That was her first mistake.
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They passed the last checkpoint, the towering gates of the Core looming behind her. The soldiers wouldn't go any farther. Beyond this point was exile. Death.
One of them sneered. "Enjoy your new home freak."
Zora didn't flinch, but her fingers curled into fists. The rain traced the line of her jaw, her full lips pressed into a tight line. The gates slammed behind her. The sound echoed in her chest. She stood in the rain, staring at them. Her heart felt like it had been ripped from her chest.
But the shadows inside her stirred, restless.
They always came alive when she felt too much - anger, grief, fear. She pressed her hands to her chest, forcing the sensation down. It wasn't a gift. It was a curse.
The Core had tested her, just like everyone else. But when they saw what she was capable of - when they saw the way the shadows twisted and bent to her will - they hadn't called her special.
They'd called her dangerous.
"You're dangerous, Zora. You have no idea what you're capable of."
"But you said you'd protect me."
"I am."
Her jaw clenched, the memory biting deeper than the cold rain. She'd trusted him with everything.
And he'd turned her in. That was her second mistake.