Dancing with Shadows ✔

Flight from Pain

Dancing with Shadows

Chapter 12

Emma had been running for hours, her lungs burning with exertion and her legs threatening to give out. The sounds of pursuit were still behind her, growing closer with each passing minute. She couldn't understand how she had managed to evade them for so long, but it didn't matter—she just wanted to go home, back to her boring life. She even missed school.

Tears streamed silently down her face as she continued her desperate escape. She wasn't sobbing, but the silent cries wracked her body with each step. Finally, she stopped to catch her breath, pressing her back against a tree. A sudden wave of nausea overtook her, and she doubled over dry heaving. Her vision swam with black dots, and pain shot through her stomach, making her wonder if she had been shot. But there was no wound, no blood.

The urge to vomit hit again, and this time she couldn't hold it back. The acidic taste burned her throat, and she sobbed in agony, the sound echoing in the quiet forest. Her head pounded fiercely.

"I have to keep moving," she whispered to herself, pushing off the tree with her left hand while her right hand clutched her throbbing head. She stumbled forward, not caring where she was going as long as it was far from the castle. She had barely walked five minutes when a loud howl startled her. It was close—too close.

Fear gave her an adrenaline surge, and she broke into a sprint. Branches clawed at her clothes, ripping them as she forced her way through the underbrush. Her torn clothes hung from her body, and she tripped over a log, falling face-first into the mud. She tried to scramble to her feet, but a sharp pain shot through her leg. Looking down, she saw a wolf's claws clamped around her ankle—no, not a wolf. A werewolf.

She tugged her foot, but the wolf's claw dug in deeper, jerking its hand and tearing at her flesh. She screamed in pain. Desperately, her hands searched for a weapon, and she found a rock, slamming it into the wolf's face. The creature yelped and released its grip, giving Emma a momentary reprieve. She limped away as fast as she could, but the growling was getting closer.

She glanced back and saw the pack only fifteen feet away. Ahead, she saw nothing but open air. She skidded to a halt at the edge of a cliff, windmilling her arms to keep her balance.

"Emma!" a voice called. She spun around to see a naked Declan, his expression a mix of anger and desperation.

"Stop this, Emma, and come back. My parents decided they weren't going to execute you," he said, stepping closer. Emma tried to back away but forgot about the cliff edge. Her heart raced as she glanced down at the raging waters below.

"So I can be locked up in a cell?" she spat, glaring at him. She hated him for believing Jessica's lies.

"Don't talk to him that way, you witch!" Jessica's voice cut through the air. She stood next to Declan, also naked, clinging to his arm. Jealousy surged through Emma.

"Who are you calling a witch? You're nothing but a liar, and I hope you get what's coming to people like you," Emma retorted. Something in Jessica snapped.

"Jessica, no, stop!" Declan yelled, but it was too late. Jessica shifted into her wolf form and lunged at Emma, biting the arm she raised in defence. The pain was excruciating, and Emma heard a sickening snap. A high-pitched scream filled the air—her own.

Jessica released her arm and stepped back. Emma looked at her mangled limb, sobbing uncontrollably. Her vision blurred with tears, and she saw someone approaching. Panic surged, and she took a step back, the ground crumbling beneath her feet. She slipped, clawing at the edge with her broken hand, but it was no use.

She fell with a splash into the icy water. Rocks scraped her as she hit the bottom. She struggled to the surface, but the current was too strong, and her broken arm made swimming impossible. A wave dragged her under, flipping her over. She hit her head on the rocks, and everything went black.

Her life flashed before her eyes. Meeting Richard and Kate, falling in love with Declan, making enemies and friends—it all played out in her mind. She would have cried if she weren't underwater. Her eyes fluttered closed, the last thing she saw was Declan's face. His eyes showed love, concern, guilt, and hurt.

Guess what, Declan? I didn't mean it when I said I hated you. I love you. Emma thought as everything faded to black.