Mia finally reached the glade, her white hair catching the dusky light like spun moonlight, her pale eyes wide with a desperate, gnawing urgency.
She'd shed Prince Ben's form miles back.
Ben's skin was too dangerous to wear for long with his siblings' spies scouring the Kingdom in search to hunt him down.
Mia's breath rasped in her throat, each inhale laced with the scent of the vibrant trees and fresh oxygen being pumped.
She crouched among the bushes, her shapeshifter senses razor-sharp, her scales flickering faintly under her worn shirt as she scanned the glade.
Dusk cast long shadows, the artificial sun dipping low, and the cameras—previously offline—now hummed softly, their lenses glinting like the eyes of silent predators.
She'd pushed her stolen shuttle to its limits, racing here as fast as humanly possible, only to find… nothing.
Or so it seemed.
