The forest was cold and eerily quiet, every snapping twig beneath elizabeth’s feet making her flinch. She had no idea how she ended up here—wherever here was—but she did know someone was following her. A voice cut through the stillness, sharp and demanding.

“I know you’re there. Come out before I find you.”

Peeking around the tree she hid behind, elizabeth caught sight of a boy, maybe her age, standing just a few feet away. He had dark hair that hung messily over his furrowed brow and piercing eyes that seemed to see everything. A sword was gripped tightly in his hand, his knuckles pale around the hilt.

Nope.

Without waiting for him to spot her, elizabeth turned and bolted. Branches scraped her arms as she sprinted through the trees, but the sound of quick footsteps behind her told her she wasn’t losing him.

“Stop running!” Edmund barked, his voice sharp with authority.

elizabeth ignored him, her breath coming in sharp gasps. But then her foot caught on a root, and she stumbled forward, hitting the ground hard. Before she could push herself up, a boot planted itself firmly in front of her, and she froze.

“Got you,” Edmund said, his voice low and edged with something dangerous.

He stared down at her, his eyes narrowed and jaw clenched tight. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Finally, he pointed his sword toward her—not close enough to touch her, but enough to remind her who had the upper hand.