Unsteady

Chapter Sixty Three

When Nathan finally spotted a pond glinting faintly in the distance, nestled between the trees just off the roadside, he eased the car to a stop beside the gravel shoulder. The hum of the engine faded into the chirping of crickets and the distant rustle of leaves stirred by the wind.

He unbuckled quickly, stepping out into the cool night air. The moon hung low, casting a pale silver sheen over the landscape. Without waiting for her to move, Nathan circled to the passenger side and gently tapped on Valeriya's window.

"Come on," he said softly, opening the door for her.

Valeriya grimaced as she shifted in her seat and slid her legs out of the car. The moment her weight settled on her feet, she winced. "Ow, ow—ow," she hissed, stumbling slightly as she clutched at the edge of the door for balance.

Nathan immediately caught her, strong arms steadying her before she could fall. "What's wrong?" he asked, concern tightening his voice as he looked her over.

"I think..." Valeriya let out a slow breath, her hand instinctively hovering over her abdomen. "I might've sprained a muscle in my stomach. When I kicked him—it was just adrenaline in the moment—but now it's like..." she winced again, "tight, sharp. Hurts when I move."

Nathan didn't hesitate. He crouched low without a word, then rose with her effortlessly in his arms.

"Great," he muttered under his breath, but it wasn't irritation—it was worry laced with protectiveness.

Valeriya blinked in surprise. "Nathan, seriously—you don't have to carry me. I can walk just fine."

"You're limping, Val," he replied, glancing down at her blood-smeared ankle and then back up at her pale face. "You're not walking anywhere. Just let me do this."

She fell quiet, arms looping loosely around his shoulders as he carried her down the gentle slope toward the pond. The night was still. The surface of the water mirrored the moonlight in gentle ripples as if welcoming them into its quiet embrace.

Behind them, Henry remained seated in the back of the car, watching from the shadows. He didn't move. He didn't speak. He simply sat, his eyes tracking every step they took—still processing what had been done, what had been said... and what could never be undone.

Nathan's arms tightened around Valeriya as he carried her into the shallow waters of the pond. The moonlight shimmered on the surface, casting a silvery glow that danced around them. Valeriya's voice broke the tension, a teasing lilt in her words:

"Your hands are a bit too low there, bud," she joked, her eyes glinting mischievously.

Nathan, still reeling from the night's events, managed a faint smirk. "I've touched more of you than this," he retorted, gently setting her down. "Now hurry up and clean that blood off your ankle."

Valeriya nodded, wading slightly deeper into the pond. She knelt, the cool water lapping at her skin as she began to wash away the remnants of the earlier confrontation. The silence between them was heavy, filled with unspoken thoughts and lingering adrenaline.

Suddenly, a voice pierced the stillness, ethereal and cold:

"When I ripped you away from your mother at birth and brought you to your grandfather, I never expected for her to find you again."

Nathan's head snapped up, eyes scanning the treeline. From the shadows emerged a woman, her presence both regal and menacing. Her gaze was fixed on Valeriya, a twisted smile playing on her lips.

"And if I'm being honest," she continued, "I didn't expect you to live past infancy. Your heart was too weak... I made it so."

From the car, Henry recognized the figure instantly. His blood ran cold. He threw open the door and sprinted towards them, shouting: