Everything had gone according to plan.
Not a single hitch.
They had moved flawlessly. Every calculated step, every signal, every piece of the escape had fallen into place with unnerving perfection.
Were they really that good?
Or… was something else at play?
Melodie clenched her jaw as she threw more dirt onto the fire pit, the damp earth hissing against the faint embers.
It didn't make sense.
That madman had found her in the middle of a dense forest, in the dead of night, IN THE RAIN. He had smelled her.
Hunted her.
Tracked her like prey.
And yet, now?
Nothing. No resistance. No chase.
Just an easy escape into the convoy of circus performers heading to their next destination.
And at dawn, they had separated, breaking off the main road, vanishing into the wilderness near a shallow stream.
A perfect ghosting.
Too perfect.
Surin and Surian led the group, calmly. They had horses. The rest were on foot. They made no haste, no sign of urgency. The sun was rising, casting a golden glow over the frost-dusted trees.
Winter was coming. Days away now.
Small fires crackled around their camp, people warming their hands, cooking whatever food they had scavenged. The scent of roasted roots and salted meat filled the air, blending with the crisp morning cold.
It should've felt safe.
It should've felt like victory.
Then why the hell did Melodie feel like she was about to jump out of her own damn skin?
She dug into the earth, clearing a space for another fire pit, forcing her thoughts away.
And then—
A voice.
Inside her head.
'Why don't you feel relieved?'
Melodie's body stiffened.
Damn it.
Surin.
Of course, it was Surin.
Her eye twitched.
"Get out of my head," she thought back, trying to shove him out mentally.
'I would, but you're practically screaming. It's distracting.'
Melodie cursed out loud.
"Language, young lady. I didn't raise you that way." her father muttered nearby.
She snapped her head toward him as he sat by another fire, inspecting a blade.
"I got a splinter," she lied effortlessly.
Sgt. Jaxxon didn't even look up. "Then stop being sloppy and pay attention."
Melodie snorted, shaking her head. Classic Dad.
She almost laughed.
But Surin wasn't done.
'You know something.'
'I don't know shit,' she bit back.
'Oh? Then why are you so uneasy?'
'Maybe I just don't like your annoying ass voice in my brain.'
'No, I think you're worried. Frightened.'
Her hands tightened around the firewood she was stacking.
Damn him.
'Oh, maybe you just miss my son?'
Something in her snapped.
Without thinking, she grabbed the nearest heavy-ass chunk of firewood and hurled it straight at his smug face.
It hit the tree inches from his head with a sickening crack.
Surin yelped and toppled off the stump he had been lounging on, falling backward into the dirt.
Silence.
Wide eyes turned toward them.
Even Sgt. Jaxxon blinked.
Oliver, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow. "Uh. What the hell was that?"
Melodie smirked.
"I saw a bug," she said smoothly, dusting off her hands. "Right on his shoulder."
Surin, still sitting in the dirt, stared at her.
Not in anger.
Not in offense.
But in pure, dumbstruck awe.
He had not expected that.
Melodie rolled her shoulders, pleased with herself.
'How rude.'
Surin's haughty voice slithered through Melodie's mind like a smug, icy wind.
She choked on a laugh, still watching him from the corner of her eye as he dusted himself off. That arrogant, pompous snow demon.
'I'll try to remember to keep the 'M-word' out of the conversation,' he added dryly, brushing imaginary dirt off his tunic.
Melodie rolled her eyes but said nothing. Good. She didn't want to hear that name ever again.
But then, Surin's tone shifted.
'Tell me… describe your last moments with him.'
Her body tensed.
'How did he act? Did anything seem... off? Did he give you anything unusual?'
Melodie stilled.
Her heart began pounding.
Footsteps crunched on the frost-covered leaves as Surin walked toward her now, serious. His playful mask was gone.
Out loud this time, he murmured, "I feel uneasy."
Her chest tightened. "You too?"
"I'm missing something. Leaving the capital… it was too easy."
Melodie exhaled sharply. Finally, someone else felt it too.
She lowered her voice.
"He was always watching me. Always. Never more than two feet away."
Surin's jaw clenched.
"And yet the last thing he did," she whispered, "was let me dance with a stranger."
Something lit in Surin's sharp blue eyes. A realization forming.
But not fully convinced, he pressed her for more details.
"Your outfit," he said suddenly. "Where did you get it? Were you wearing that at the festival?"
Melodie nodded. "Yeah, why?"
Surin's stare darkened. "What about him? What was Malec wearing?"
She hesitated.
Why does that matter?
But as soon as she recalled the image, she felt a cold pit form in her stomach.
"The long coat," she muttered, "his heavy one. It was too warm for the weather, but he said I'd need mine because it would get colder later…"
Surin's fingers twitched.
Then—
She remembered.
Her hands flew to her pocket.
"The last thing he did," she whispered, "he gave me something."
Surin stiffened.
Melodie yanked out the item.
It was a fairly large cloth bundle, neatly tied.
The moment it was in her hands, she felt Surin's aura shift violently. His eyes widened in terror.
"Open it," he commanded.
Her fingers fumbled at the knot, shaking. She barely registered his movements as he suddenly grabbed her collar, flipping it over.
The green jewel.
His face drained of color.
"Melodie," his voice dropped to a whisper. "This isn't an ornament. It's a tracking stone."
Melodie froze.
Surin's breath was quick, sharp. "It emits a chemical trail. Invisible to the naked eye, but when viewed through special lenses…"
Melodie's hands trembled as she finally untied the cloth and peeled it open.
Inside was dried meat. Dried fruit. Bread. Cheese.
Surin stared.
Melodie stared.
The realization hit like a death knell.
He knows.
He fucking knows.
Every breath felt heavier.
Every second felt like borrowed time.
Malec had known.
The whole time.
Melodie's breath hitched.
She slowly lifted her gaze to Surin, her thoughts spiraling into terrifying clarity.
She held up the bundle of food in her trembling hands.
The warm clothes on her back.
The tracking stone around her throat.
Almost rhetorically, she asked, "Was Malec… preparing me for my journey?"
The words felt heavy in her mouth.
"Is that why I have warm clothes and food?"
Surin's blue eyes darkened as he gave a small, almost sympathetic nod.
A chill ran down her spine.
Melodie felt numb.
Her fingertips dug into the cloth bundle as if trying to convince herself this was just a mistake.
"He let me go."
"He let me go, right?"
Surin sighed, whispering under his breath—
"A mad dog always chases his bone."
Melodie's stomach dropped.
Her breathing became uneven.
No.
No, no, no.
This wasn't right. This wasn't supposed to happen.
The escape was flawless. It went perfectly.
Didn't it?
She swallowed hard.
A new, horrifying thought clawed at her mind.
If Malec had prepared her for the journey…
If he had dressed her in warm clothes…
If he had let her slip away so easily…
Then—
Her eyes widened in horror.
Out loud, shaking, she whispered—
"Why was Malec wearing his warm fur coat and fur boots?"
Surin's gaze sharpened.
A long, tense silence stretched between them.
Then, in a low, serious tone, he answered—
"Because those are hunting clothes."
The blood drained from Melodie's face.
She felt sick.
Every muscle in her body locked up.
A cold, brutal realization settled in her chest.
She wasn't running away.
She was being hunted.
____________________________________________________________________________
The crackling of campfires filled the air, mingling with the crisp scent of pine and damp earth. The moon shone brightly, casting silver light over the small, hidden encampment deep in the woods.
Melodie crouched near a pit she was digging for a cooking fire, brushing dirt from her hands. Around her, people moved quietly, gathering supplies, tending to tired children, and speaking in hushed tones.
It should have been a moment of relief.
But something was wrong.
A sharp, icy feeling crawled up her spine.
She had been too tense, ever since they fled the city.
Like something wasn't adding up.
Then, from behind her—
"Surian, get the horses. We're leaving. Now."
Melodie's breath caught.
The easygoing, smug voice of Surin had lost all of its usual amusement.
She turned.
Surin was standing rigidly near the fire, his blue eyes darkened with something dangerous. His normally relaxed posture had stiffened, his hands clenched at his sides.
Surian, who had been sharpening a dagger near her horse, immediately stilled before rising without hesitation.
She didn't question him.
She didn't ask why.
She just turned, whistled sharply for the horses, and disappeared into the darkness beyond the trees.
The entire camp fell silent.
Only the crackling fire remained, throwing eerie shadows across the tension in the air.
Then—
"What the hell is going on?" Sergeant Jaxxon's deep, commanding voice cut through the quiet like a blade.
The older man moved toward Surin, placing himself between the Awyan and the now anxious group of refugees.
Melodie's heartbeat pounded in her ears.
She could see it now.
For the first time since meeting him, Surin looked afraid.
Real, genuine fear.
And if a high-ranking Awyan noble was afraid—
That meant they were already in deep shit.
Surin gritted his teeth. His normally smooth, unbothered voice was tight with urgency.
"My psychopath of a son has set a trap."
The words hit like a hammer.
The campfire popped loudly, but no one moved.
No one breathed.
Melodie felt her stomach drop.
Surin's gaze snapped to her.
"He's using her" Surin jabbed a finger in Melodie's direction "—as bait."
Melodie's chest tightened.
She couldn't breathe.
No.
No, that wasn't possible.
She had won.
She had escaped.
Surin's next words chilled her to her core.
"He's not only chasing her to bring her back."
"He's also following her to the portal—SO HE CAN DESTROY IT."
Melodie translated for the humans to understand.
The camp erupted into chaos.
Shouts. Panic. The children whimpered, confused. Someone knocked over a pile of supplies in their scramble.
The reality of the situation crashed down like a landslide.
If Malec reached the portal first—
If he destroyed it—
They would never get home.
Never.
Melodie's heart slammed against her ribs.
Her mind raced, trying to piece together how.
How did Malec know? How did he plan this?
Then she remembered.
The food.
The warm clothes.
The tracking stone.
The kiss on her forehead before he let her go.
"He knew."
"He fucking knew."
"He let me run—because he knew I'd lead him straight to the portal."
"You can't leave!" Sergeant Jaxxon's voice snapped her back.
His voice was low, firm, commanding.
He stepped in front of Surin, towering over him, his broad stance making it clear:
"You're not running until I get some goddamn answers."
"You don't even know where the portal is!"
Surin's eyes flickered with something close to guilt.
"I know enough," he said.
Jaxxon bristled.
"You got us into this, you don't get to run now," he growled. "You stay, and you help us get to that cave before Malec does."
Melodie translated.
Surin's lips pressed into a thin line.
He hesitated—just for a breath.
Then his face hardened.
"I'm sorry," Surin said, his voice low.
"But if Malec ever catches me harboring slaves—especially his slave—he won't let that slide."
Something about the way he said his slave made Melodie flinch.
Malec didn't just own her.
Malec had claimed her.
And he was waiting.
Tracking.
Calculating.
A sudden gust of cold wind rushed through the trees as the sound of hooves approached.
Surian emerged from the shadows, leading two white warhorses.
Her golden eyes flashed.
"Father," she called out.
Surin turned back to Jaxxon.
"Head south," he said to Melodie,"Stay off the main roads. Malec will be tracking her, not your group—use that to your advantage."
Then, for the first time, Surin looked straight into Melodie's eyes.
His voice was grim.
"Run fast, little dove."
"Because the Silver Fox is just behind you."
With that, he mounted his horse.
Surian did the same.
And without another word—
They rode off into the night.
The crackling fire sent flickering shadows across the camp as Sgt. Jaxxon stood tall, arms crossed, surveying his unit. Around him, a mixture of Canariae refugees and soldiers sat in tense anticipation, waiting for him to speak.
Melodie stood beside him, her mind racing, heart pounding, knowing time was running out.
Malec was waiting.
But she wasn't some helpless runaway.
She had memorized every landmark, every possible route.
She knew the way.
And she was getting them all out of here.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward.
"I know the way," she announced, her voice strong, unwavering. "I kept track of every landmark. I can lead us to the cave."
The camp fell silent.
Then, slowly, Sgt. Jaxxon nodded.
"We move together," he said, laying out the plan. "We travel in one unit until we're within a few miles of the portal."
A few of the refugees shifted nervously.
"Once we reach that point," he continued, his voice firm, unwavering, "we're splitting up. The first group will push ahead and go in first."
Melodie listened, gritting her teeth.
This was dangerous.
If Malec really was tracking them, he wouldn't just let them go.
"We go in after them," Jaxxon went on, his sharp eyes scanning his soldiers. "If we have to, we'll fight our way through. We've got guns. We have the advantage."
Melodie folded her arms, considering the terrain, the strategy.
He was right.
The Awyan relied too much on their physical strength.
But bullets didn't care about strength.
They'd cut down anyone who stood in their way.
"We all get into the portal," Jaxxon concluded, "and it collapses behind us."
A heavy silence settled over the group.
Then—
"Uh, yeah, I got a question, Sarge," one of the soldiers drawled, lifting a hand. "Why does this plan suck so much?"
A few others snorted, barely holding back their laughter.
Someone muttered, "Yeah, sounds like a real shitshow."
Jaxxon rolled his eyes, ignoring the heckling.
"Get some sleep," he barked. "We move at nightfall."
As the soldiers groaned and settled in, Melodie turned her gaze toward the darkened tree line.
The firelight didn't reach that far.
But she could feel it.
A presence, just beyond the light.
Watching. Waiting.