HAZEL BROWN
Hazel couldn't defend herself.
She couldn't run away.
The man standing before her—his skin darkened by the sun, his frame lean but deadly—was as strong, if not stronger, than Aldric.
She knew it before he moved.
The way his muscles coiled, the deliberate, measured control in every breath.
Then—
The bowstring drew back.
Hazel's body moved before her mind even registered it.
Her instincts screamed.
And still, the man's eyes flickered—hesitated, just for a fraction of a second—before he released the arrow.
It missed.
Barely.
And yet—
A roar erupted behind her.
Hazel glanced back mid-sprint, her breath catching at the sight.
A chunk of the forest—gone.
Not damaged. Not burned.
Erased.
The man's arrow had obliterated it entirely, leaving only the raw scar of destruction behind.
But—
Why?
Why had it missed?
Why did it feel like he was avoiding her?
