SACRIFICIAL PAWN

POV: Mia.

Unseasonably cold night air made the delicate hairs on my nape bristle with dread. Maybe all it was, was the approaching change of seasons, a subtle psychological deception. Perhaps my subconscious had already realized that treachery and deceit were waiting just over the horizon, trailing spectral warning tendrils in their wake.

For whatever reason, instincts blazing like synapses in an electrical storm, I stopped on the wooded trail that led back to my little flat. Something was wrong, thrown out of the natural order of things in a way that sounded discordant notes across my entire existence.

Breaths came in shallowly and I looked around me intently. In some way, the silence was heavier, with a nasty watchfulness prickling my nerve endings. It was as though the trees themselves were mute witnesses, leaning in a conspiratorial silence.

Grasp yourself, Mia. Just from hearing too many of Ivory's delusional beliefs about old grudges and persistent dangers, you're scared.

I push