3. Laia

3

LAIA

T wigs snap beneath my bare feet, each step a knife slicing through my soles. My lungs burn, every breath a ragged plea for mercy. I’ve been running for hours, maybe days—time blurs into one endless nightmare. The forest swallows me whole, its dense foliage a maze of shadows and whispers.

I don’t feel hungry nor thirsty as I focus on survival. The only thought in my mind is to run further to keep more distance between Eryndor’s estate and me.

I stumble on a slope, the ground vanishing beneath me. I tumble, my body rolling down like a broken doll, limbs flailing helplessly. Pain explodes in my knee as I hit a rock, but I can’t even muster a scream. Finally, I crash to the forest floor, my body giving in.

The cold ground presses into my cheek. Dirt and blood fill my mouth, gritty and metallic. I spit weakly, but the taste lingers. Darkness edges my vision, the world spinning in a cruel dance of exhaustion and despair.

This must be the end. Maybe it’s better this way—to die here, alone in the wilderness, free from Eryndor’s grasp. No more chains, no more beatings. Just peace.

But then I hear it—movement. Heavy, deliberate footfalls echo through the forest like the steps of giants. My heart lurches with a mix of hope and dread. Is it Eryndor? Has he found me?

No, these footsteps are different—slower, more measured. I try to lift my head but fail; my body shudders in exhaustion.

The sounds grow closer, each step sending vibrations through the earth beneath me. My breath comes in shallow bursts as I lie there, helpless and broken.

Through the haze of pain and fatigue, one thought pierces through: I’m not alone.

A shadow looms over me, blocking out the moonlight. I blink, trying to focus, my heart hammering in my chest. A massive figure stands above me—horned, hulking, and terrifying. The moonlight casts eerie shadows across his face, highlighting sharp, predatory eyes and a snarl that sends chills throughoust my body. His muscles ripple under coarse fur; each breath he takes is like the growl of a beast.

“What have we here? ”A deep, gravelly voice murmurs, almost to himself.

Another figure approaches, equally fearsome. Blood splatters across his chest, his savage grin splitting his face. Their presence fills the air with raw, primal energy. Monsters.

They’re monsters.

“Looks like a stray,” the second one says, his voice rough and filled with dark amusement.

My throat with fear as I try to push myself, but my body refuses to obey. My limbs are leaden, my strength gone. I’m too weak to fight, too weak to run. How can I survive?

“What should we do with her?" The first one asks, eyes gleaming with curiosity and something darker but also pity.

The second one chuckles, a sound that sends my heart somersaulting in fear. “Depends on how much fun you want to have.”

Panic claws at my chest. What can I do? My mind races for an escape, but my body betrays me—every muscle screams in protest.

The first monster crouches down, bringing his face closer to mine. “Can you speak?" His breath is hot and smells of iron and earth.

I manage a weak nod, though my voice fails me.

“Well?” He presses on, impatience edging his tone.

“P-please,” I whisper over the pounding of my heart.

The second one laughs again, but it’s not a kind sound. “She begs already? Pathetic.”

Tears sting my eyes as I lie there helplessly. Desperation churns in my gut. What should I do? What will these monsters do to me?

The first monster reaches out, his massive hand closing around my arm. His touch is rough, almost clinical, as if he’s inspecting livestock. The sensation sends a fresh wave of fear through me. I try to jerk away, but his grip tightens, holding me in place.

He chuckles, low and dark, but there’s no warmth in the sound. “What do you think, Thalos? A gift from the gods?”

Another figure steps forward, even larger than the first. His dark eyes scan me with an expression colder and more calculating than the others. “She’s no gift. She’s trouble, Kael.”

“Trouble?” The second one scoffs, his hand squeezing my arm tighter. “She looks half-dead to me.”

“Looks can be deceiving, Irix,” Thalos says, his gaze never leaving mine. “We’ve been fooled before.”

Irix’s savage grin widens. “Should we test her then? See if she has any fight left?”

My heart pounds so hard it feels like it might burst from my chest. They talk about me like I’m an object—a curiosity to be poked and prodded. Fury mingles with my terror, sparking a fire inside me.

“Or maybe we should just put her out of her misery,” Kael, the one with a softer gaze, suggests, his voice calm. Our eyes meet, and there’s something in there aside from savageness. It’s like… he’s looking at me with pity.

My lips curl in disdain. Why would a monster feel pity for me?

The idea of them ending me here and now should fill me with relief. But all I feel is rage. If they’re going to eat me, I’ll make sure they remember me. The anger gives me strength to defy them.

I glare at them, my eyes burning with defiance. “Do it then,” I rasp out. “But I won’t make it easy for you.”

Thalos tilts his head, curiosity flickering in his dark eyes. “She has spirit,” he muses.

The one called Irix me effortlessly, slinging me over his shoulder like a sack of grain. Pain flares in my body again, but I grind my teeth and refuse to cry out.

I struggle hard against him, kicking and screaming as much as my strength can muster. My fists pound uselessly against his back as he carries me deeper into the forest.

“Feisty little thing,” he remarks with amusement.

“She’ll tire soon enough,” Thalos says coolly.

“I wouldn’t mind breaking her in myself,” Irix adds with a dark chuckle.

Their banter fuels my anger further. I twist and thrash with every ounce of strength left in me, but their grip remains unyielding.

If this is how it ends, at least I’ll go down fighting.

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