Sweet Innocence and Gentle Sin || 𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑

Chapter 28: A Promise

An awful noise filled the air. I heard a scream in the woods somewhere.

~)(~

The chill of winter rose into the warmth of spring. New buds covered the once-barren trees, bringing subtle green to the still-pale landscape. The air carried a hint of freshness as the scent of dew-washed grass mingled with wet soil. Birds chirped melodic songs that echoed around me. A gentle breeze whispered promises of warmer days, carrying away the remnants of winter. The endless headache of spring attempted to hide the snapping twigs and crunch of leaves.

The camp was a few miles west, warded into silence to keep us hidden. But I wasn't there. I was sitting between the bushes, trying to ignore the stabbing pain of the brambles and the growing ache of my muscles as I crouched. Every breath had to be slow and silent. I stalked my prey with the patience earned from years of experience.

At the distinctly heavy crunch of forest ground, I finally drew back the arrow. The tip of the sharp, faebane coated metal brushed against the leaves. I drew back a breath and held it a second before letting it out.

The rhythmic thumping of a heartbeat filled the air, pounding in my ears like a war drum. As the sound grew louder, I could hear the slow and steady breaths of my prey drawing ever closer to my position.

With bated breath, I waited for the perfect moment, knowing that any second now they would step into my line of sight.

From the moment we entered this forest, I knew we were being watched—hunted. I wasn't about to let this enemy sneak up on us.

The rustle of leaves straight ahead gave way to a dark silhouette. I drew in another breath, slow and calculated. With the exhale, I released, and the blue-feathered arrow slipped between the branches, straight for the target.

There was a commotion, and I stood up from the bushes. Had I missed my target? I drew back another arrow as the figure rose from the foliage to look at me.

Our eyes met, and my breath caught painfully in the back of my throat. For a moment, I faltered, letting the bowstring relax in my grasp as my arms lowered. The eyes I stared into, I forgot what they looked like—forgot who they belonged to.

But then he took a step, and the spell broke.

Without a second thought, I drew the bowstring back again and released the arrow. It whistled through the air and came to a halt just inches before hitting its target.

He caught the arrow and held it still, dangerously close to his cheek. Blood trickled down his palm, staining the wood of the arrow and dripping onto the ground.

I forgot what surprise looked like on his face. The way his brows rose, his eyes widened and let in more light to reveal the flash of emerald green. His lips parted, exhaling and almost begging to speak. But I didn't want to hear it. It took the longest to forget his voice, and I wasn't about to remember it again.

So I turned and ran. My bow swung over my shoulder to give me both hands. With my heart racing and my breath ragged, I sprinted through the forest. The overhanging branches threatened to slap me, but I ducked beneath them just in time, hoping they would slow him down.

I couldn't afford to stop or slow down, not until I was safe. He couldn't catch me—wouldn't catch me. I wouldn't let him.

The trees cleared as the sound of running water hit my ears. It was a steep valley, so I skidded forward and slid down, splashing water against the leather boots. Without looking back, I started running along the water, following its path downstream. Thankfully, I made a mental note of the site we camped at, and the stream that ran past it.