Sweat beaded along the back of my neck, thick and cold, sliding slowly down my spine until it soaked into the thin fabric of my nightshirt. My stomach gave a loud, hollow growl, breaking the heavy silence of the room like a crack in glass.
My eyes drifted to the clock on the wall.
2:00 a.m.
Of course. This had become my new normal — waking in the dead of night, my body restless, hunger gnawing so deep it felt like it was eating me from the inside out.
I tossed and turned, pulling the sheets up to my chin, squeezing my eyes shut tight. But sleep hovered just out of reach, a shadow I couldn't quite catch.
My stomach growled again, sharper this time. I pressed a hand over it, whispering silently: Not now. Any time but now. There was no way I was going to wander this unfamiliar house in the dark, fumbling for a kitchen I didn't even know where to find.
I turned onto my side, facing the window. The night air seeped through the cracks, biting at my arms and legs — my own fault, I'd been too tired to close it properly before collapsing into bed.
Dragging myself up, I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders like armor, letting it trail behind me as I padded barefoot across the cold wooden floor. My fingers reached for the latch — and froze.
It didn't sit right.
The metal was bent, twisted out of shape, as if someone had pried at it from the outside with force.
My breath caught. I stumbled back, heart hammering so hard I could hear it in my ears. Someone tried to break in? But I didn't even lock it…
The realization barely landed before the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. A prickle of ice crawled up my spine — the primal, undeniable feeling of being watched. Not outside. Inside.
Before I could even turn, a hand slammed over my mouth, rough and hard, pressing so tight my teeth bit into my own lip. The taste of copper flooded my tongue. An iron-hard arm locked around my waist and lifted me clean off my feet, slamming my back against a chest as solid as stone. The blanket slipped away, leaving me exposed and shaking.
Panic exploded in my chest. My mind went white, stripped of every thought except one: Survive.
I didn't think — I reacted. I sank my teeth into the flesh covering my mouth with every ounce of strength I had. The man hissed in pain, and his grip loosened just enough for me to twist and drive my elbow backward, hard into what I hoped was his ribs.
I spun around, gasping for air, my vision adjusting to the pitch black. I couldn't see his face — only his eyes, glinting like shards of flint in the darkness. But what made my blood turn to ice was the thing he held in his gloved hand: the heavy, silver head of a hammer, catching the faint moonlight from the window.
He's going to crush me. Crush the baby.
I scrambled backward toward the door, fumbling for the handle. It wouldn't move. Locked.
A scream tore out of me, muffled and broken, as his hand shot forward and tangled in my hair. Pain erupted across my scalp, blinding and hot, and he yanked me sideways. My knees buckled; I stumbled, hitting the edge of the bed, and black spots swam across my sight.
Get up. Get up. Don't let him touch the baby.
I forced myself upright, throwing my body around the bed to put something between us. My chest heaved, every breath coming in ragged, burning gasps. He was already inside. Before I woke up. How long has he been waiting?
The question turned my bones to water.
"Who sent you?" My voice shook, thin and reedy, barely louder than a whisper. Silvermoon can't have found me already… can they?
His laugh was low, guttural, and cold as the grave. "They never said bring you back alive. But I'm sure they'll pay just as well if you're dead."
My knees almost gave way. One hand flew to my stomach, curling protectively over the life growing inside me.
He started walking around the bed, slow and deliberate, like a predator toying with its prey. I grabbed the heavy lamp from the nightstand, ripped its cord free, and swung it with all my might. It crashed against his forearm, but he didn't even flinch. The glass shattered, leaving me clutching only a jagged, useless piece of plastic.
I hurled it anyway.
He swatted it aside like it was nothing, closing the distance between us in two long strides.
I backed up until my shoulders hit the wall. There was nowhere left to go. No door, no window, no escape. My heart hammered against my ribs so hard I thought it would burst. My legs trembled so badly I could barely stand. Every nerve in my body screamed — fear, raw and overwhelming, flooding my veins until I could barely breathe.
He raised the hammer high above his head, the metal glinting in the dim light.
Time seemed to slow. I stared up at that weapon, my eyes wide, my breath trapped in my throat. I thought of the baby, of all the things I'd never get to do, of the life I'd barely begun to build. Terror wrapped around me like a fist, squeezing tight, leaving me helpless, waiting for the blow that would end everything.