Henry could feel the rhythm of Violet's breathing against his back. Her arms tightened around him with every passing second, and somehow, her fear gave him a strange sense of purpose.
Perhaps she needed him.
Perhaps she was counting on him to protect her, to stand and fight when she couldn't.
For the first time in what felt like hours, Henry felt as though he was someone's last hope.
Across from them, Lady Arta slowly released the whip. It fell to the ground as she shifted her right foot backward, her fingers curling into fists. Her fingernails began to lengthen, extending several times their normal size as her golden eyes remained fixed on Henry.
"Violet," Henry called softly.
She lifted her head, but her arms remained firmly around him.
"Run."
He didn't turn to look at her. His gaze remained fixed on Lady Arta.
Violet hesitated for only a moment before finally releasing him.
She turned and ran. The instant she was out of reach, Lady Arta lunged.
