At first, I stopped thinking it was mine. After a few seconds, I heard nothing and continued running when suddenly the footsteps resud behind again.
The steps were moving fast, keeping pace with even as I pushed myself harder.
I glanced back over my shoulder but couldn’t see anyone through the trees. I saw only shadows and morning mist rising from the forest floor.
Maybe I was imagining it, or perhaps it was just an animal or my own paranoia playing tricks on .
But the footsteps kept coming. And now there were more of them. In multiple sets, moving through the forest in a coordinated pattern.
They were herding .
The realisation hit , sending fearful tremors through . Whoever was following wasn’t just chasing; they were guiding in a specific direction away from any possible help.
I changed direction sharply, cutting to the left toward what looked like a slightly thinner forest path. Maybe I could—
A man stepped out from behind a tree directly in my path.
I skidded to a stop, nearly falling as my wet shoes slipped on the leaf litter. The man was tall and lean, dressed in dark tactical gear that looked military. His face was covered with a black mask, and only his eyes were visible.
And he was holding a gun.
I spun around to run the other way and found two more n blocking that path wearing the sa gear, the sa masks and holding the sa guns.
"Naya Rivers," the first man said. His voice was flat and emotionless. "You’ve been quite difficult to track down."
"Who are you?" My voice ca out as a whisper. "What do you want? Please, I don’t want any trouble."
"You know what you did," another man said, moving closer. "You indicated interest in a job, and out of the gracefulness of our hearts, we hired you. But you failed, and now you’re a loose end."
Was this about that link and the mysterious text that had sent to Club 69 to drug Hansel? Were these the people behind it?
"I didn’t tell anyone!" I said quickly, backing up even though I knew there was nowhere to go. "I swear, I didn’t say anything about the link or who hired or—"
"You didn’t say anything?" the man laughed. "But Hansel Ward has his minions digging around trying to find who wanted to drug him with Lycantril. You were sent for one job, and you’ve been frolicking on his arms as his lover."
"That’s not true!" I cried out. "There was so mix-up. I ended up drinking the spiked drink, and he was going to have arrested. I passed out, I lost my mom..." I drew in a shaky breath, trying to control my voice. "I swear, I’m not with Hansel because I want to."
"But he brought you to their pack house, and you’re human," another man said from behind. "Are you sleeping with him already?"
"It’s not that, you see, Hansel was sick and..."
"It doesn’t matter now," the first man cut off. "You’re still a liability, and you know too much."
"I don’t know anything! I don’t even know who you are!"
"Exactly." He raised the gun, pointing it directly at my chest. "And it’s going to stay that way."
For so stupid reason, instinct took over, and I bolted to the side, trying to use the trees for cover. Behind , I heard cursing and the sound of multiple people giving chase.
A gunshot cracked through the forest, disturbing its serenity. I felt the bullet whiz past my head close enough to feel the air displacent.
That was all the wakeup call I needed because these people were actively trying to kill .
My foot caught on a root, and I went down hard, my hands scraping against rocks as I tried to break my fall. Pain shot through my palms and knees, but I scrambled back to my feet and kept running.
Another shot was fired, but this ti around, it hit a tree right next to , causing the bark to explode—so of it splattering on my face.
"Stop running! You fucking bitch," one of them shouted.
I ran faster, ignoring my burning lungs and my increasingly tired legs. I might even be bleeding, but I couldn’t die like this, not after surviving the Ward family.
I burst through so thick underbrush and found myself at the edge of a steep drop-off.
It was a ravine cut through the forest, maybe twenty feet deep, with a stream running at the bottom.
The footsteps were getting closer, and I could hear them crashing through the bush behind .
I had two choices: let them catch and shoot , or jump and hope I survived the fall.
One of them burst through the clearing, panting as he pointed his gun at .
"For a human, you’re fucking fast," he said, breathing hard. "Now, be a good girl and hand your phone before anything."
"I do not deserve to die like this," I cried, with tears running down my face. "I know I am not the best of persons in the world, but I am not bad either. I am the one who was offended. The one whose fiancé left for another woman, who lost her mother without ever getting a chance to say goodbye. I do not deserve to die like this."
"We’re not going to change our mind, Naya Rivers," one of the n said with a shrug. "Your sob story doesn’t have any effect here."
"You don’t have to do this," I choked out. "I’ll disappear and never show myself to anyone. I’ll change my identity, move away from Luxford, and I promise I’ll be as good as dead."
The man laughed. "That’s what they all say. Right before the cleanup."
"Do it," one of them said, the quietest one among them. "We don’t have all day."
The first man lifted his gun, pointing it directly at my chest.
"Any last words, Rivers?" he asked.
No, I will not die this way.
A shot rang out, and I jumped.
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