Chapter Ten - RUN. RUN. RUN.

(Adelaide)

The beast passed girl after girl—barely noticing the ones trembling in puddles of their own terror.

Then he reached Calia. The thin girl whimpered, tears streaking down her face. For one horrifying heartbeat, Adelaide thought he would take her—take this fragile doe and crush her without a thought.

But the Devil sniffed the air around Calia—one deep inhale—then moved on.

Straight toward Adelaide.

Her stomach dropped. Her knees threatened to give. But she locked her spine, forcing her chin up.

If he expects me to bow, he’ll be disappointed. If he wants me broken, he can do it in the dark with no witnesses—but he will not have it here.

The beast neared her and stopped.

Right. In. Front. Of. Her.

His chest was a wall of fur and heat. His breath blasted down over her like a furnace, reeking of smoke and iron and something older—something primal. There was a note in it she couldn’t name, like burned cedar and storm-charged air, the scent of things that existed long before villages and bells and bargains.

Adelaide’s entire body trembled. Her jaw clenched so tight it hurt. Her palms bled where her nails dug into them. Every terrified instinct in her screamed: RUN.

RUN. RUN. RUN.

The beast leaned in, mere inches away from her. Hot, moist breath rolled over Adelaide’s face in huffs strong enough to lift loose strands of her hair. His massive head lowered—horns slicing the air above her, teeth gleaming, a snarling maw inches from her throat.

Every instinct she had screamed at her to run. Every instinct he had told him she would.

He lowered further.

Girls whimpered behind her. The villagers gasped. Someone fainted.

Adelaide didn’t move. Couldn’t move.

She locked her knees until they trembled violently, forcing herself to stay upright as the Devil inhaled deeply against her neck. The heat of his breath scorched her skin. Her pulse hammered wildly against the column of her throat, so close to his teeth she could almost feel the drag of them without him moving.

And then something impossible happened. The growl rumbling out of his chest changed pitch. Lower. Darker. Nearly… thoughtful. His head cocked slightly, as if studying her.

The massive beast scenting the curve of her throat suddenly felt intentional. Not instinct. Recognition.

His burning eyes—monstrous, molten—locked onto hers. Not like an animal hunting its prey. Like something aware. Something choosing.

Her blood ran cold. It felt as though ice water had been poured down the inside of her spine, chasing away the heat of his breath and leaving everything sharp and horribly clear.

Then— His monstrous form shifted.

It didn’t shrink. It didn’t change shape. Its face gentled, looking almost human.

But something inside it pushed forward—like a shadow taking on clarity, like a second presence stepping through the same body. And the beast spoke. Not with a roar. Not with a snarl. With words.

A low, rumbling voice, deep as a collapsing mountain, echoed from his chest: “Run well,”

Adelaide’s breath stuttered. Her heart punched painfully against her ribs. The syllables wrapped around her like chains—softly spoken, impossibly heavy.

He leaned in closer, clawlike feet curling into the dirt on either side of her, boxing her in without touching her. Its giant talon-tipped hand reached for her, like it might tear open her throat before the hunt even began. His heat pressed against her exposed skin so intensely she swore she might blister. Sweat prickled at the small of her back despite the winter air, trapped under thin cotton and hot fear.

Then—his voice shifted again. Something silkier slid beneath the growl—a whisper that didn’t match the monstrous shape.

A voice she would surely remember through the rest of her days. It coiled around her name even though he hadn’t spoken it, as if he’d already found it somewhere in the marrow of her bones.

“Run well, Little Flame.”

Her entire body went still.

Little—what?

Her jaw clenched. Fury flooded her chest, hot enough to burn through her terror. “I will not run for you,” she spat, forcing her voice out through locked teeth.

The beast let out a sound that was half-growl, half-laugh. A horrible, guttural sound that vibrated against her ribs. “You will,” the voice murmured from inside that enormous, snarling maw.

His head tilted, those molten eyes dragging down her body, not with lust, but with the slow, evaluating sweep of a predator that found its favourite prize.

Her stomach twisted violently. Heat crawled beneath her skin, not desire but the humiliation of being assessed, measured, weighed, as if every inch of her had already been counted and claimed.

The beast’s lips curled.

“Because I want you to run.”

Heat exploded down her spine, furious and cold all at once. She wanted to spit at him. Wanted to punch him. Wanted to run. Wanted to grab his horns and yank until his neck snapped.

Her fingers curled into fists so hard her nails dug crescents into her palms.

He inhaled again, deeper this time, as if savouring something only he could smell.

Her anger, perhaps.

The voice, his smooth rumbling voice, murmured: “And what I want… I take.”

Her breath caught. The words dropped into her like stones into deep water, sending ripples of dread and defiance radiating outward until her fingertips tingled.

The forest trembled as the beast reared back slightly, towering above her once more. The ground cracked beneath his claws.

Every girl shrank back. Every villager sobbed. But Adelaide—Adelaide glared up at him like she wished she could tear his throat out with her bare hands. The image flashed through her mind—his great body crashing to the forest floor, his fire-drenched eyes going dark—and she held onto it like a promise.

He lowered his head again, positioning his snarling face inches from hers. Teeth like daggers. Breath like smoke. Eyes glowing like molten pits.

She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink.

The beast moved his head in a serpentine motion, his massive horns slicing through the space above her as he leaned down to inspect her closely once again.

He inhaled. A long, slow, deliberate inhale at the crook of her neck, hot breath ghosting across her collarbone, making her skin prickle with cold sweat. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. She felt like prey under a wolf’s nose. Every instinct screamed to jerk away, but she held herself motionless, a single taut line of refusal.

Her stomach churned. Her throat burned. Her vision swam. Terror and rage tangled so violently inside her that she thought she might explode.

I’ll kill you.

The thought burned through her, savage and electric.

Someday. Somehow. I will find a way to end you. The vow didn’t feel like a wild, impossible fantasy. It felt… anchored. As if the forest itself had heard and tucked the promise into its roots.

The Devil’s beast snorted, breath rumbling through her hair. He stepped closer still, towering, monstrous, overwhelming. The thick of his fur brushing against the thin material of her ceremonial dress.

Her breasts chose this moment to swell, and her nipples to harden. Her lips curled, instinctively baring her teeth. And gods help her—for one scorching moment, she wanted to slap his monstrous face.

The fury built in her throat, poisonous and hot, rising past her terror.

Do it.

A voice inside her whispered.

Hit him. Show him you refuse to break.

But her survival instinct roared louder. If she fought back now, in front of the entire village, he would tear her throat out before the hunt even began. She saw it clearly: her mother’s scream, Lyra’s collapse, blood steaming on the frozen earth. No. Not like this. Not here.

She clenched her jaw until her teeth screamed in protest. Her breath rushed out between her teeth in a shaking exhale. Not a spit. Not a hit. Not yet. But almost.

The beast’s growl rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating through her bones.

He leaned in even closer, his horned head casting her in shadow.

His burning eyes locked onto hers. And for one horrifying second, she felt intelligence behind them. Recognition. Interest. Possession. Like a hand closing around the back of her neck—not yet squeezing, just resting there, testing the shape of her spine.

He spoke then—not in words, but in a guttural, echoing rumble that shook her lungs:

“Mine.”

Adelaide’s blood froze.

Her breath hitched in her throat—sharp, strangled, sick. Her vision blurred at the edges. Anger surged up again, blinding and bright.

I will never be yours.

Before she could form the words—before she could spit in his face—before she could scream at him—

The horn sounded.

Deep. Ancient. Thundering across the clearing. The note rolled over them like a wave, slamming into her chest and tearing her attention away from his eyes, away from the word still ringing inside her.

The Offering horn.

The Devil’s beast drew back, chest heaving.

He reared—towering, massive, terrifying—then slammed his claws into the ground hard enough to send cracks spiderwebbing through the earth.

With a roar that shattered the silence, he vanished in a blur of monstrous muscle and shadow, sprinting into the forest like the night itself had swallowed him. One moment he was a wall of fur and fire in front of her; the next, he was a streak of darkness between the trees, branches whipping and snapping in his wake.

Girls screamed and bolted. Villagers wailed. Lanterns swung wildly, casting crazed circles of light that caught white dresses already darting toward the tree line. Someone fell. Someone was yanked upright. The clearing dissolved into chaos.

Adelaide didn’t move. Not for a heartbeat. Her lungs squeezed. Her chest burned.

His words echoed in her skull, searing themselves into her:

Little flame.

Run for me.

I take what I want.

Her anger burst like a storm. Good. Let him come. Let him chase.

She would destroy him. Even if she had to survive a hundred nights in his forest to learn how. Even if she had to carve the method into the very bark of these trees.

She tore her feet from the ground and ran headfirst into the forest. Cold earth exploded beneath her toes as she pushed off, white dress snapping around her thighs, breath tearing from her chest in sharp bursts. The line between safety and nightmare vanished under her first step, and the trees swallowed her whole.