CHAPTER 57: BLOOD

Branches and twigs snapped beneath Lilith’s feet as she tore through the forest, her breath ragged, the pain in her head now a dull, constant throb. It was a miracle she hadn’t fallen—this part of the forest was thick and overgrown, the trees so densely packed they swallowed the moonlight whole, plunging her path into near-complete darkness.

Her lungs burned. Her heart pounded so violently she could hear it in her ears, thudding like a drum. She had no idea how long she’d been running, only that her legs were failing her and her vision had begun to blur at the edges.

She couldn’t go any farther. If she did, she would collapse.

Desperately scanning her surroundings, she spotted a thick tree with a hollow at its base, camouflaged by a heap of dried leaves. Without hesitation, she sprinted to it, dropped to her knees, and forced herself into the narrow space. Curling her body tightly, she held her breath and stilled her limbs.

Every nerve in her body screamed for silence.

The seconds dragged like hours as she tried to calm her frantic breathing. Then she heard it—footsteps. Slow, deliberate, drawing closer with every passing second. She slapped a trembling hand over her mouth, willing herself to disappear.

Voices followed. Andus’s voice was unmistakable, furious, venomous, spilling curses through clenched teeth.

Lilith squeezed her eyes shut, praying to gods she had never believed in.

Then one of them stepped closer. She could hear the crunch of leaves, feel the earth shift beneath his weight. And when she dared a glance from the corner of her eye, she saw it—the front of his boot, mere inches from her hiding spot.

"Fucking bitch! I can’t feel my shoulder—I’m bleeding so fucking much," Andus growled, clutching his wound as blood seeped through the makeshift bandage he’d torn from his cloak. Even with the pressure, it wasn’t enough to stop the bleeding.

"Maybe we’d find her faster if you stopped whining like a fucking cunt and shut the fuck up," Bole hissed in a low voice, clearly annoyed.

"I... I’m definitely going to kill her this time," Andus muttered, eyes darting around the dark forest. He squinted, struggling to see even with the dim glow of the lantern in his hand. "I don’t think she’s here."

"Let’s check the other side—she might’ve hidden somewhere over there," Bole replied.

The two men began to move away, their footsteps fading along with their angry bickering.

Lilith didn’t move. She held her breath until the sound of their voices and footsteps had fully disappeared into the distance. Only then, when silence returned, did she cautiously crawl out from the hollow. Her limbs ached from being twisted in the cramped space, her back stiff, her legs screaming from lack of circulation.

Staying there all night would be impossible.

She scanned her surroundings, heart still thudding in her chest. There was no way she’d be able to find her way out of the forest in the dark. The trees were too dense, and with the moonlight blocked, every shadow looked like a threat.

She’d have to find another place to hide somewhere she could stay safe until dawn. Once it was morning, she’d try to make her way out of the woods. And if she could escape the forest, the path back to the palace would be easier to find.

The palace.

She paused, eyes searching the darkness.

Was anyone even looking for her?

Was the prince aware that she’d been taken?

With a quiet sigh, Lilith turned and began to wander in the opposite direction of where she’d last heard the men. It was a gamble—but anything was better than being found.

She took slow, careful steps, trying not to make a sound that could alert the men. The cold had worsened, her breath now visible as it escaped her lips in pale clouds. Lilith wrapped her arms tightly around herself, burying her fingers between her elbows in a desperate attempt to hold onto what little warmth she could find.

A branch snapped.

Lilith froze.

Her head slowly turned, eyes scanning the dark trees behind her—but she saw nothing. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to keep moving, her pulse quickening with each step.

"You really are a pain in the arse, do you know that?" a voice drawled behind her.

She froze again.

Her body turned slowly, dread pooling in her stomach. Bole stood a few feet away, the lantern in his hand casting an eerie glow across his face.

Lilith didn’t wait—she turned and ran, sprinting as fast as her legs could carry her through the forest. Her heart pounded wildly, her breath coming out in ragged bursts.

But she didn’t get far.

Something heavy slammed into her back with brutal force, knocking her to the ground. Pain exploded in her chest and limbs. She tried to scramble away, but she was instantly pinned down.

Her eyes widened in horror as she looked up and saw Andus straddling her, holding her firmly in place. Blood was smeared across his face, and his eyes burned with fury.

"You’re in so much trouble, girl," he whispered between labored breaths.

"Let go of me!" Lilith screamed, panic lacing her voice as she fought against him, her body thrashing under his weight. But Andus didn’t move.

Bole finally caught up, kneeling beside them. Without a word, he began tying her wrists again—tighter than before.

Once the ropes were secure, Andus yanked her to her feet. He held the rope firmly, dragging her along like a captured animal as they made their way back through the woods to the spot they’d been before.

Without warning, Andus turned on her and slapped her across the face—hard.

Lilith cried out as she hit the ground, her cheek stinging violently.

"That was for running," he spat, his voice low and venomous.

Andus yanked the bloodied blade from his side—the very one Lilith had used to stab him. With a savage grip, he buried his fingers into her hair and yanked her head back. Kneeling beside her, he pressed the blade to her cheek and dragged it across her skin in a slow, cruel slice.

"That’s for making us chase you," he sneered.

Lilith winced, a sharp cry escaping her lips as blood trickled from the fresh wound. But within moments, the gash began to close. The skin stitched itself back together, smooth and unblemished as though it had never been touched.

The men froze, eyes widening with disbelief as they exchanged stunned looks.

"What the fuck? Where did the cut go?" Bole muttered, his voice low and filled with dread.

"She’s a fucking witch," Andus said with a manic laugh, the madness in his eyes igniting. "How interesting."

He dragged the blade across her neck, a deeper cut this time. Blood poured freely down her skin, but again, the wound began to mend, the flow of blood stopping, the skin sealing itself seamlessly.

"Oh fuck," Bole whispered, staring wide-eyed. "I... I’ve never seen anything like this in my life."

"Me neither," Andus grinned darkly, the corners of his mouth stretching. "This just got a whole lot more interesting. Let’s see how much you can heal."

With those words, he lifted the blade and drove it into her shoulder. Lilith screamed in agony, her body writhing in pain. Bole quickly pressed his hand over her mouth, muffling her cries as she trembled beneath their grip.

Andus yanked down the neckline of her dress, exposing her shoulder. The wound was already closing, the torn flesh knitting itself back together until it looked untouched.

"Give me the knife. I want to try," Bole said, yanking the blade from Andus’s hand without so much as lifting his other from Lilith’s mouth.

Without hesitation, he drove the blade into the side of her stomach.

Lilith let out a muffled groan, her body arching in pain as tears streamed down her face. Her limbs trembled, and she felt herself grow limp, strength draining from her body.

"Let’s see if she’s healing," Andus muttered, tearing the side of her dress open with a brutal rip. Blood soaked the fabric, but beneath it, the wound slowly closed before their eyes.

"You should cut the dress off her, Bole," he added, eyes gleaming with something sick and twisted.

Lilith’s panic surged.

She thrashed violently in their grip, desperate to escape, every fiber of her being screaming for survival. Her heart pounded like thunder, a wild, erratic rhythm that echoed in her ears. Suddenly, heat bloomed beneath her skin—burning and pulsing. Her body began to shake uncontrollably, consumed by the intensity building within her.

The men faltered, pausing mid-movement.

"What the hell is wrong with her?" Andus asked, his voice uncertain.

"S...She’s glowing," Bole whispered, backing away a step.

The heat inside her surged, impossible to hold back.

Then it happened.

A scream—raw, blood curdling—tore from Lilith’s throat, echoing through the forest. And just like that, the world went still.