Hated and His to Claim
I took off after him.
Branches snapped beneath my boots as I sprinted through the trees, my breath burning in my lungs. Rage and grief pushed me forward. All the memories came rushing back, the night he left, my mother’s tears, the hunger, the fear. He didn’t deserve peace. Not after what he did.
He was fast, but I was faster. The forest blurred around me as I closed the distance. His cloak snagged on a branch, and he stumbled, crashing into the dirt with a grunt. Before he could rise, I tackled him, my knee pressing hard into his spine.
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