The night smelled of damp earth and dying leaves.


    Raine gripped his dagger tighter, keeping his breathing steady as he stepped onto the narrow path. The trees pressed in from all sides, shadows swallowing the moonlight in uneven patches.


    He wasn’t alone.


    The weight of unseen eyes crawled along his spine.


    They were waiting.


    Kael had disappeared into the forest, leaving him alone. A test. One Raine hadn’t asked for.


    He took another step forward.


    Then they moved.


    A rustle. A shift in the underbrush.


    Raine spun, ducking just in time to avoid the heavy swing of a rusted hatchet. He felt the wind of the blade passing inches from his skull.


    No hesitation. He drove his dagger into the attacker’s ribs.


    The man gasped—shocked, stumbling back.


    Raine twisted the blade before yanking it free.


    The bandit collapsed, clutching at the gaping wound, his breath ragged and wet.


    Raine barely had time to process it before two more lunged from the darkness.


    He turned just in time to block the first strike—his dagger met the dull edge of a chipped sword. The force rattled his bones.


    The second bandit aimed lower.


    Raine barely managed to twist his body, the knife slicing his cloak instead of his flesh. He retaliated instantly—elbowing the man’s face. A crunch. A muffled scream.


    Blood spattered against the ground as the bandit staggered back.


    The first attacker recovered fast. Too fast.


    A flash of steel. A blade driving toward his throat.


    Raine acted on instinct.


    He ducked low, sidestepped, then—drove his dagger straight into the man’s thigh.


    A howl of pain. The man collapsed.


    Not dead. Not yet.


    The other bandit was already coming again, shaking off the blow to the face.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Raine turned, faster than he thought possible, and threw his dagger.


    It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t clean.


    But it buried itself deep in the bandit’s shoulder, knocking him back against a tree.


    Raine sprinted forward, pulling a second knife from his belt.


    The bandit gasped, pinned in place. His hand reached for his own blade—too slow.


    Raine slammed the hilt of his dagger into the man’s temple.


    The bandit slumped.


    Dead or unconscious—Raine didn’t care.


    He turned, chest heaving. Three down.


    Then—a flicker of movement.


    The last two bandits stood at the edge of the trees.


    Unlike the others, they weren’t charging.


    They were watching.


    Raine took a step forward, gripping his bloodied dagger.


    They didn’t move.


    Something was wrong.


    A heavy, unnatural stillness settled over the forest. The air itself seemed to thicken, pressing down on Raine’s lungs.


    His heart pounded. He took another step.


    The two bandits shuddered.


    Not out of fear. Not out of pain.


    Something beneath their skin twitched.


    Their breathing grew shallow, their limbs locking in place.


    Their eyes widened—not with recognition, not with terror, but with something deeper. Something primal.


    Raine felt it.


    Something inside him reached out.


    Not on purpose. Not even with intent.


    The world around them bent.


    The bandits gasped. Their bodies trembled—like something inside them was pulling away.


    Raine couldn’t move.


    He felt it—a thread unraveling, being ripped away from them.


    The men staggered, clutching their chests like they couldn’t breathe. Their veins bulged, darkening—as if something inside them was being pulled from beneath their skin.


    Then—they collapsed.


    But they didn’t disappear.


    Their bodies remained. Their flesh untouched.


    And yet—they were empty.


    Raine staggered back, his own breath ragged.


    They were dead. But not like the others.


    The wounds he inflicted before had been real. Blood, pain, breathless gasps.


    This?


    This was something else.


    Their eyes were still open.


    Still staring.


    Still locked in that moment of sheer terror.


    A shudder ran through Raine’s spine.


    He turned his shaking hands over, staring at them.


    What did I just do?


    A branch snapped behind him.


    Kael.


    He stepped from the shadows, his face unreadable. He glanced at the dead bandits.


    Then at Raine.


    For the first time, his expression wasn’t amused.


    “That,” Kael murmured, “was something new.”


    Raine couldn’t answer. His throat was too dry.


    Kael walked closer, nudging one of the bodies with his boot.


    “They’re still here,” he noted.


    Raine forced himself to speak. “I didn’t… I didn’t break them.”


    “No,” Kael agreed. “You didn’t.”


    He crouched, pressing two fingers to one of the corpses’ throats.


    Then, after a long moment, he exhaled.


    “You didn’t just erase them,” he said quietly. “You took something from them.”


    Raine swallowed hard.


    He didn’t need Kael to explain it.


    He felt it.


    The strange, crawling sensation beneath his skin. The way the air around him still seemed to bend unnaturally, like something was not quite settled.


    Kael stood.


    “Come on,” he said, voice unreadable. “We need to move.”


    Raine hesitated. “You’re not going to explain?”


    Kael shot him a sidelong glance.


    “I could,” he said, turning back toward the road. “But I think you’d rather not hear the answer yet.”


    Raine’s fists clenched.


    He was right.


    Because for the first time since discovering his power—


    He wasn’t just afraid of what he could do.


    He was afraid of what he might be becoming.