Ellie’s pulse quickened, each beat echoing in her ears as she slipped through the narrow, twisting streets of Greymire. The cool night air, heavy with the dampness of coming rain, clung to her skin, but it did little to soothe the heat of her nerves. She pulled her hood lower, obscuring her face, and adjusted the pack on her shoulder. Every step she took felt heavier, the weight of her decision more burdensome now than it had been at the start. Leaving was the only option—but leaving alive had suddenly become more complicated.

“Focus, breathe.”

Her whisper fell flat in the oppressive silence. The city seemed to hold its breath, shadows thickening in every corner, waiting. Watching. Her gaze flicked over her shoulder. Was that a figure she’d seen slipping between the shadows earlier, or just a trick of her frayed nerves? She couldn’t be sure. Didn’t want to be sure. The only certainty was that she couldn't afford a mistake.

Ellie quickened her pace as she turned down a quieter alley, the sound of her footsteps muffled against the damp cobblestones. But then, a low murmur reached her ears—voices. She froze. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she pressed herself against the rough stone of a nearby building, her breath caught in her throat.

The flickering light of a nearby lantern danced across the alley, throwing long, jagged shadows over the three figures huddled around a broken wagon. Mercenaries, no doubt. Hardened faces. Battle-worn attire. Everything about them screamed danger.

“—easy bounty, I’m telling you,” one of the men growled, his voice carrying a thick layer of arrogance. “Catch her, and we’ll be set. They’re offering more than just gold for this one.”

Ellie felt a knot of cold dread tighten in her chest. They’re talking about me.

Another man, shorter and stockier, grunted in response. “If we can catch her,” he muttered, his tone low and practical. “Guild’s tight around her. We’ll need to make it clean, quiet.”

The guild? Her mind raced, piecing together the implications. These weren’t just random bounty hunters—they knew about the guild. Her guild. The group she thought could keep her safe. But if they were bold enough to cross those lines, the situation was far worse than she imagined.

“We’re not worried about the guild,” a third voice, a woman’s, chimed in. Sharp, cold, and filled with a dangerous amusement. “The Shadowmire Circle gave the order themselves. They don’t care about her connections.”

Ellie’s blood ran cold. The Shadowmire Circle. The name alone was enough to chill the air. A cabal of mages whose cruelty and power were the stuff of whispered legends. If they were involved, her options had just narrowed to none.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“They think she’s got something they want. Something the mages at Greystone have been itching to get their hands on. Alive, preferably,” the woman continued, the corner of her mouth pulling into a sly smile as if savoring the hunt.

Ellie pressed harder into the shadows, her heart thudding in her chest. Magic? What could they possibly want from me? She wasn’t a mage. She had no relics, no secrets. Just... herself. Ordinary Ellie. But whatever they thought she had, the truth wouldn’t matter once they caught her. All they needed was to believe she was worth the chase.

The taller man, his eyes gleaming with anticipation, gave a short laugh. “We hand her over, and we’re set for life. Gold. Power. Enough to make the guild turn a blind eye.”

The woman chuckled softly, the sound almost intimate, as though she enjoyed the idea of their prey squirming in fear. “Let’s hope she’s as gullible as they say. Heard she’s not the sharpest blade.”

Ellie’s face flushed with anger. She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to remain silent. Let them think she was weak. Let them believe she was the easy mark they were expecting. She’d use their assumptions to her advantage. If they found her, they wouldn’t be facing some helpless girl—they’d be facing someone who had no intention of being caught.

Her mind raced, working through possible escape routes. Every logical plan seemed to unravel before she could form it. The main roads would be watched. The guild couldn’t help me now. Going to them would just bring war to their doorstep. No... I have to do this alone.

“We strike before dawn,” the woman’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Quick. Clean. No mistakes.”

The cold weight of those words settled over Ellie, sinking into her bones. If they struck before dawn, she had hours at best. Think, Ellie. Think. Her instinct was to run—to disappear into the night, as she’d always done before. But these hunters were too smart for that. They expected her to flee. That was what she would have done.

But what if she didn’t?

The reckless idea flared in her mind, dangerous and half-formed. What if I stay?

The mercenaries shifted, preparing to move on. The taller one’s voice echoed faintly as they retreated further down the alley. “Girl better not be stupid enough to take the backroads. If we catch her there, it won’t be pretty.”

But Ellie was barely listening. Her muscles tensed as she slipped deeper into the shadows, moving with deliberate care. Every step calculated, measured. Stay hidden. Make them think I’m already gone. Throw them off, outmaneuver them.

Her hand brushed the hilt of the dagger strapped to her belt, a familiar comfort against the growing fear. She wasn’t powerless. Not anymore. If they cornered her, she wouldn’t hesitate to fight.

But fighting is the last resort. Escape first.

The mercenaries’ voices grew distant, swallowed by the thick blanket of night. Ellie allowed herself to exhale, but her relief was fleeting. She had to move—now.

Glancing around, she slipped further into the narrow, winding alleyways, every shadow a potential enemy. The backroads. They thought she’d be too stupid to take them. They weren’t expecting her to slip past in plain sight.

Her lips pressed into a tight line, determination hardening in her chest. She would outsmart them. She had to.

The game was far from over.