The clatter of iron wheels on dirt grated against my ears, but it was nothing compared to the crushing weight that pressed down on my chest, suffocating me. Every jolt of the cart sent a fresh wave of pain through my body, but I welcomed it—embraced it even. Physical pain was easy, simple. It paled against the torment that gnawed at my soul. Sophia’s face swam before my eyes, always there, always just out of reach. That moment—her last moment—played on a cruel loop in my mind. The way she fell, her golden hair catching the sunlight one final time, and the way her eyes had widened in shock, just before the light went out. Gone.

I had done that. I had killed her. Maybe not with my hands, but it was still me. The burden of that truth was heavier than any chain binding my wrists. I couldn’t escape it. Couldn’t run from the truth that it was my choices, my failures, that led her to die in the dirt, with her blood staining the ground.

I could still hear her voice, light and full of life—so full of life. She’d been more than a friend; she was my anchor. The one person who never looked at me like an outsider. But I had torn that away from her, ripped her from this world because of my cowardice, my stupidity. I couldn’t save her. I had all the power in the world, and yet, when it mattered, I had failed.

Ged’s face flashed next. Ros, too. Their deaths were on my hands as well. Every heartbeat throbbed with guilt, pounding in my ears, as though trying to crush me from within. But it was Sophia’s death that haunted me most. The weight of losing a child—of losing her—was unbearable. She was a light, a pure light, and I had let it be snuffed out.

And now there was Reece. Sitting there, staring off into the distance, the space between us filled with everything unspoken. His hatred was justified, his pain deserved. What could I say to him? What could I do? I had taken everything from him, left him broken in ways no amount of time would heal. I had failed him, too.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to claw at my own skin, to tear open the grief that was choking me, to feel something other than the endless void swallowing me whole. But there was nothing. No absolution. No forgiveness. Only this hollow ache, this endless sea of guilt that I would never escape.

The cart jolted to a halt, the sudden stop jerking me forward, rattling the chains that bound me. Rain had started to fall, a light drizzle at first, but now it came down harder, soaking the earth beneath us and turning the path into thick mud. The smell of wet soil mixed with the pungent stench of horse sweat and unwashed bodies—an acrid, sour odor that clung to everything. The air felt thick, oppressive, as if the storm clouds above weren’t just holding back a thunderstrom, but something darker.

The horses snorted, shaking their heads and stamping their hooves into the muck, their breaths visible in the cool, damp air. The enforcers, Greydan, our captors, dismounted with heavy thuds, their boots squelching in the mud. Laughter echoed behind the cart—coarse, vulgar laughter that sent a shiver down my spine. It was the kind of laughter that stripped away any humanity they might’ve had left. The kind of laughter that promised cruelty.

“Did ya see the look on the old bastard’s face when we took him down?” one of them crowed, voice thick with drink. “Like he couldn’t believe it. All that talk of loyalty, and for what? A farm? A handful of worthless crops?”

Another chimed in, slurring his words as the flask made its rounds. “Should’ve burned the lot of ‘em sooner. Farm went up like dry kindling. Saw it in the rearview the whole way back—flames licking at the sky.” He let out a bark of a laugh, the sound thick and rough. “Bet even the livestock’s ash by now.”

The rain hissed as it hit the fire they spoke of, leaving only the smoldering remnants of my life. I could almost smell the charred wood, the smoke mixing with the fresh rain and the damp earth, the bitter taste of loss coating my throat. They were laughing at the destruction of everything I had tried to protect. Of everything Sophia, Ged, and Ros had died for.

Their revelry faded as one of them, a smaller man, with rotting teeth, tilted his head toward the cage, eyes gleaming with malice. “Think they’ve got any fight left in ‘em?” His words slurred with drunken confidence. “C’mon, let’s have some fun.”

“Fun, eh?” another one, the youngest of the group, smirked, licking the rain from his lips. “A little exercise before bed, then. Let’s see who’s still breathing.”

They stumbled over, their boots slipping slightly in the mud. The cart door screeched open, its rusted hinges protesting with a long, grating wail. Rough hands yanked me out by the chains, dragging me to my feet. My limbs felt heavy, every joint aching with the cold that had seeped deep into my bones. Reece followed, though not without a swift kick to his ribs from one of the enforcers. He grunted but didn’t cry out, his face set in a stony glare.

The rain poured harder now, turning the ground into sludge beneath my feet. It soaked through my torn clothes, plastering them to my skin, the cold biting into every inch of me. Around us, the forest loomed dark and foreboding, the trees swaying ominously in the wind as if they too were witnesses to what was about to unfold. There was no moon, just the faint glow of the fire they had set up, casting flickering shadows that danced around like specters waiting to claim us.

Stolen novel; please report.

Greydan stood in front of me, close enough that I could smell the stale beer on his breath. He grinned, the firelight catching the sharp edge of his teeth. “Here’s the deal,” he said, voice low and dripping with cruelty. “One of you fights, the other walks free. Simple as that. You want your freedom, all you gotta do is kill each other.”

I glanced at Reece. He was standing a few paces away, rain dripping from his brow, his face shadowed but his eyes burning with rage. He looked at me, and for a moment, something flickered in his expression—something raw and unfiltered. But then it was gone, replaced by a steely resolve.

“Go on,” the man taunted, stepping back. “Make it quick, or we’ll do it for you.”

Reece’s fists clenched, his jaw tightening. The tension between us raw and untamed in the rain-soaked air, thick and suffocating. We stood there, facing each other, neither of us moving, neither of us speaking. The world around us seemed to still, the rain the only sound in the silence between us.

“Reece, I’m sorry, Soph…” I began, but the moment I opened my mouth,to say his sister's name he was on me.

“How dare you!” he roared, his fist slamming into my face before I had time to react. The impact sent me staggering back, the taste of blood filling my mouth.

“Don’t say her name,” Reece growled, his voice trembling with fury as he struck me again, his knuckles raw and sharp against my skin. “You don’t deserve to say her name!”

Each blow landed with more force, more anger, his fists raining down like the storm around us. I didn’t fight back. I couldn’t. This was my fault. Sophia’s death, Ged and Ros… it all traced back to me. So I took the beating, feeling every hit like the punishment I deserved. Each strike was a reminder of my failure, of the lives lost because of me.

But Reece didn’t stop. His rage was unrelenting, a wildfire consuming everything in its path. My vision blurred, darkness creeping in from the edges as the world spun. The taste of iron filled my mouth, mingling with the rain, but still, I didn’t raise a hand. Reece’s grief was driving him, fueling his hatred, and in some twisted way, I understood it.

"How could you let her die?" Reece’s voice broke, his fists slowing as tears welled up in his eyes. "How could you just stand there? You—" His voice choked off, and he shoved me back, his hands trembling. "She trusted you. We all did."

I collapsed to my knees, the weight of his words pressing down on me harder than any blow. I looked up at him, but there was nothing I could say to make it right. Sophia’s death hung between us like a shadow, and nothing would change that.

The enforcers, growing tired of the tension that refused to break, muttered amongst themselves, their disappointment evident. One of the men, a cruel grin twisting his lips, pushed through the group and pulled out a small, jagged knife from his belt. He flipped it in his hand before offering it to Reece, the metal catching the faint glow of the fire.

“Here,” he said, voice dripping with malice. “End it. You want freedom, don’t you? This is how you get it. Prove you’ve got some guts.”

Reece hesitated, his fingers hovering above the handle. I saw the tremble in his hands, the uncertainty in his eyes. He didn’t look at me—couldn’t look at me. His breath came out in shallow, ragged bursts, mixing with the rain that still fell in sheets around us.

"Do it!" Greydan barked, his voice cutting through the downpour. The others joined in, shouting and cheering, their voices full of bloodlust. "Finish him!"

Reece’s face hardened. He grabbed the knife.

Slowly, with an almost mechanical motion, he walked toward me, the knife trembling in his grip. His boots squelched in the mud with each step, the earth seeming to cling to him as though even the ground knew the weight of what he was about to do.

When he reached me, Reece didn’t raise the blade right away. He dropped to his knees, his breath unsteady as the rain poured down his face. His eyes finally met mine—dark, hollow, and filled with something I hadn’t seen before.

Regret? Fear? Anger? Or all of it at once?

I couldn’t tell. My vision was blurred by the rain and blood trickling down my face, but in that moment, I saw the boy he used to be. The boy who had once been family. The boy who had once had a sister we both loved. The loss of those shared memories sat between us, as heavy as the storm.

For a heartbeat, I thought maybe he wouldn’t do it. Maybe there was still a part of him that remembered what we had—what we lost. But that moment passed like the fleeting echo of a dream.

Without a word, Reece plunged the knife into my stomach.

I gasped, the pain searing through me, hotter than any fire I had ever known. My muscles tensed, my body arching in agony as the blade tore into flesh. I could feel the warmth of my blood spilling into the cold mud beneath me, mixing with the rain, staining the earth.

The men cheered, their voices barely audible over the storm, but I heard them. Their revelry was the soundtrack to my dying. They didn’t care about the life draining from me—didn’t care about the history between us. To them, this was just sport. A game played out in blood and rain.

Reece stood up, his expression unreadable. He stared down at me for what felt like an eternity, his fist now clenched tightly, spattered with my blood. He turned, mounting the horse offered to him by one of the collectors. He didn’t look back as they rode away, their figures disappearing into the sheets of rain and the darkness beyond.

.Alone now, with the knife still buried in my belly, I lay down in the mud. The rain pelted my face, cold and relentless, as if the heavens themselves were trying to wash me away.

The pain was unbearable, but even that began to fade, replaced by a deep, numbing cold. I closed my eyes, letting the darkness take me. There was no more fight left in me. No more struggle.