Liak’s POV It was as if every single thought required an enormous, agonizing effort just to exist. Every decision felt too heavy to carry. Even the simple act of staying awake had become a losing battle. So, despite the danger, I fell asleep. And for the first time in a very long time, I didn’t wake up screaming. The nightmares still came, of course. They always did. The distorted faces, the mocking voices, the cold sting of syringes, the sterile white rooms, and the rough hands holding me down against my will continued to live inside my head. But that night, something felt fundamentally different. Whenever I woke up startled, gasping for air, the first thing I saw was Hunter. He was always sitting near the window. Always holding his gun tightly. Always watching the darkness outside. It was as if he were personally making sure that no one could ever reach me again. Logically, that shouldn’t have comforted me. But it did. The next morning, I woke up before he even notic
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