𝙐𝙉𝘽𝙀𝘼𝙍𝘼𝘽𝙇𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙍𝙎𝙏. 𝙒. 𝘼𝘿𝘿𝘼𝙈𝙎 𝙓 𝙈!

𝙇𝙞𝙛𝙚

Her fingertips leisurely glided from the tip of her blade to the collar of it. Her red-colored eyes were addicted to the elegance of the pure, unsullied, and sharpened blade. For all of Amber's combat life, her hands had been wielding dual sickles that were deemed liability weapons in combat.

But sickles can be a threatening weapon if they're controlled by the right set of hands. Amber, with her impeccable speed on foot and salient puissant swings, causes streaming panic in her opponents' internal systems.

They don't have any chance to retaliate due to Amber's overwhelming strength. All of her past victims stood no chance—not even the slimmest chance of reaching the faint light at the end of the dim tunnel.

Amber was strong throughout her path until that unseeable night. The moment in the woods Y/n ceased her pride and assurance. He cut her whole right arm off, which rendered her useless for two weeks.

She will have her retribution.

Nothing would be more satisfying than positioning the tip of her blade against his neck. She'd feel so powerful, she would laugh at his miserable and defeated face. She'd taunt him about how they were never in the same league and that she was always superior to him.

Yet, Amber cannot do so until she takes the action to hammer the nail into the coffin.

The finale was soon to come. Although innocent blood will be spilled along the walls of Nevermore, results are absolutely necessary. Amber, who was leaning against the wall, pushed herself off and worked her legs toward the wooden door.

Her left hand still gripping the handle of her blade. Tonight was a quiet night to play a simple game of hide and seek with pure souls.

The corner of her lips curled.

His thumb delicately caressed the nostalgic photo of Martha posing in front of a garden of flowers. She stood tall with her arms behind her back and a radiant smile that added beauty to her comely facial features.

To think he, the man who swore to live a solitude-content life, would surrender to love. Martha was not meant to be in his seclusion life; she wasn't supposed to be a huge piece of his life, and she shouldn't have been taken away from him.

Ciaran lifted his chin, eyes closed, as his mind pictured his faithful reunion with Martha. That imagination would soon become real.

Just wait a little bit longer.

"I didn't think you'd be here." A feminine voice interrupted his time of silence. He looked to see Laurel stepping inside the living room area. "I thought Amber would be around here."

He slightly tilted his head. "Why? Do you need a favor from her?"

"Sort of," Laurel answered half-truthfully. "It's complicated to explain, but I want her to undergo some process I strongly believe would benefit Amber." She added on.