Silence.
Oblivion stretched before me. I was floating in optimum darkness.
No pain. No father. No war.
Maybe this was peace.
Heaven for the pain I went through in earth.
I wish to stay here. For eternity. This silence was what I needed.
But that ended as soon as the thought came to mind.
Then a sudden harsh hand hit my back. Hard.
My body jerked violently, my lungs screaming for air.
The weight against me wasn't the water anymore. It was something solid. Someone.
A pair of strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me from the abyss.
Darkness clung to me like a second skin. It was thick, endless, suffocating. I drifted in nothingness, weightless, thoughtless. Dead.
But then, pain.
A sharp, piercing burn in my lungs. My body convulsed, and suddenly, the darkness wasn't so empty anymore.
There was sound, the crackling of fire, the distant howl of wind against wooden walls. Then came the worst of it, a flood of water rushing from my throat.
I gasped, choking, my body arching violently as I coughed, lungs desperate for air. Each breath was fire, raw and painful, as if I had swallowed the river itself. My fingers clawed at rough fabric beneath me, my body trembling from cold and exhaustion.
I was alive.
A firm hand pressed against my chest, pushing me down. "Stay still."
My eyes fluttered open. The ceiling above me was made of wood, old and uneven, with small cracks letting in slivers of dim light. This wasn't the castle.
Where…?
I turned my head, wincing at the sharp pain that radiated from every part of my body. A figure sat beside me, her hands moving quickly, dabbing something damp against my wounds. A woman.
She was young, but her face was hardened with experience. She wore a faded tunic, her sleeves rolled up, revealing arms that were too strong for a healer. Her dark eyes studied me with something unreadable, something far from kindness.
My throat burned, but I forced out a whisper. "Where am I?"
The woman didn't answer right away. Instead, she grabbed a clay cup from a wooden table and held it to my lips. "Drink."
I hesitated. I didn't trust her.
Her eyes narrowed. "Drink, or you'll wish you had drowned."
That made me drink. The liquid was bitter and thick, coating my throat like honey laced with fire. It sent warmth through my freezing limbs, but my body still shivered uncontrollably.
I glanced down. My clothes were gone, replaced with rough, oversized linen. My wounds the ones my father had given me were wrapped tightly in fresh bandages. My fingers twitched toward my stomach, to where the arrow had pierced me, but the woman caught my hand before I could touch it.
"Don't." Her voice was firm, final.
I swallowed. My head was spinning, trying to grasp reality, to piece together what had happened. Father. The arrows. The fall. The water.
And then… nothing.
I tried again. "Who are you?"
The woman's jaw tightened. She didn't answer.
A flicker of unease curled in my stomach. My father had enemies everywhere. If she knew who I was…
I forced myself to sit up, ignoring the pain that shot through my ribs. "I need to leave."
The woman didn't move. "You can barely breathe. You're not going anywhere."
"I don't have a choice." My voice was hoarse, but I willed strength into it. "I have to go back."
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Back to what? Your father? The man who shot you?"
My heart lurched. She knew.
I tensed, watching her carefully. "Who are you?"
Finally, the woman exhaled. "I pulled you from the river."
That wasn't an answer.
She set down the cloth she had been using to clean my wounds and met my gaze. "You should have stayed dead."
The words sent a chill through me.
She leaned in, her expression unreadable. "Now, they will come for you."
A sharp knock sounded against the wooden door.
My breath caught.
The woman's face hardened instantly. She grabbed a knife from the table, her movements quick, practiced.
She looked at me once more, voice low. "If you want to live, don't make a sound."
Then she stood, stepping toward the door.
I pressed a hand to my stomach, my breath shallow. Who was outside?
The knock came again, louder this time.
The woman hesitated, then slowly unlatched the door.
The moment she pulled it open, a man shoved inside, his boots muddy and heavy against the wooden floor. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a scar running down the length of his cheek. His clothes were worn, his belt lined with daggers. A warrior. A killer.
His gaze landed on me.
I tensed. He knew.
The woman blocked his path. "No."
He ignored her. "She's awake." His voice was deep, gravelly.
The woman's grip on her knife tightened. "She is under my protection."
He snorted. "Not for long."
Fear gripped my chest, but I forced myself to stay calm. I wasn't helpless. I was weak, but I was still Circe.
I pushed myself up further, wincing as I did. "Who sent you?"
The man's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Everyone."
My stomach twisted.
The woman shifted slightly, still blocking him, but there was something in her stance hesitation.
She wasn't sure she could fight him off.
The man took another step forward. "Get up."
I didn't move.
He reached for me.
The woman lunged.
Her blade flashed, aiming for his throat. He dodged at the last second, grabbing her wrist, twisting it until she gasped in pain. The knife clattered to the floor.
I acted without thinking.
I grabbed the cup from the table and hurled it at his head.
It shattered against his temple. He cursed, stumbling, loosening his grip just enough for the woman to slam her knee into his ribs.
He staggered back, but not before his hand shot out and gripped my ankle.
Pain flared as he yanked me off the bed, dragging me down to the wooden floor. My head slammed against the ground, the world spinning for a brief second.
The woman tried to grab him, but he was too fast. He climbed over me, pinning me down.I thrashed, but I was still weak. He pressed his forearm against my throat. "You're coming with me."
I gasped, struggling, the edges of my vision going dark. My fingers clawed at his arm, but he was too strong, his grip like iron. My lungs burned, my body still too weak from nearly drowning.
No. Not like this.
The wooden floor beneath me scraped against my skin as I kicked, trying to free myself. My vision blurred, my strength slipping away. His weight pressed down harder, the cruel smirk on his face the last thing I would see before—
A sharp crack split the air.
The pressure on my throat vanished as the man lurched sideways, his grip breaking. He staggered, a low groan escaping him. I coughed, sucking in ragged breaths, my hands flying to my bruised throat. Air. Finally, air.
Through blurry eyes, I saw her. The woman. She stood over him, breathing heavily, a thick wooden staff gripped tightly in both hands. She had struck him hard, right across the head.
The man growled, shaking off the blow. "You bitch." He reached for the dagger on his belt—
She didn't give him the chance.
She swung again, this time catching him in the ribs. He let out a strangled sound, his body folding as he crashed onto his side.
She grabbed my arm, pulling me up. "Move."
I barely had the strength to stand, but she didn't care. She dragged me toward the door, her grip firm and unrelenting. The man was already pushing himself up, reaching for another weapon.
"Run," she hissed, shoving me forward.
I didn't hesitate.
We burst into the cold night, the wind biting against my exposed skin. My legs were weak, my body aching, but I ran. Behind me, I could hear him roaring in anger, crashing through the door after us.
The woman pulled me along, her steps quick, sure, like she had done this before. The forest loomed ahead, dark and full of shadows. I didn't know where we were going. I didn't care.
We ran.
Branches lashed against my arms as we weaved through the dense trees. My lungs burned, my body protesting every step. I had barely survived drowning. Now, I was running for my life.
Behind us, the man was still following, his voice a distant snarl in the night.
"We won't outrun him," I gasped, my legs faltering.
The woman didn't stop. "We don't have to. Just a little further."
I didn't have a choice but to trust her.
We reached a narrow ravine, the river below raging. The woman let go of my wrist and spun around, gripping the staff tighter. She was going to fight.
"No," I rasped. "He'll kill you."
She smirked. "Let him try."
The man burst through the trees, eyes wild, clutching his chest, dagger raised. He didn't hesitate. He lunged—
The woman sidestepped at the last moment, using his momentum against him. She struck his side, sending him stumbling toward the ravine. He teetered on the edge, arms flailing before gravity did the rest.
His scream vanished as his body plummeted into the darkness below.
The woman exhaled, rolling her shoulders. "That takes care of him."
I stared at her, chest heaving. Who was she?
She turned to me, eyes scanning my face, then my wounds. Assessing. Calculating.
****
We returned back to the cabin where she sighed in relief.
"I saved your life," she finally said. "You owe me one."
I swallowed, still unsteady on my feet. "Who are you?"
She hesitated before answering. "Ade."
That name meant nothing to me. I should have felt relief, gratitude. Instead, I felt unease.
"I need to go back," I whispered. "My mate—"
Her expression hardened. "No."
I blinked. "What?"
"You must not go as Circe again."
A cold shiver ran through me. "Why?"
Her gaze bore into mine, serious, unyielding.
"Do you want to die?"