[Alaric's POV — Deep Forest Hut — Midnight]
For a moment, I simply stood there, looking down at him. The hut smelled of smoke, damp wood… and blood.
His blood.
The faint metallic scent lingered in the air, mixing with the cold night wind slipping through the broken walls. My gaze moved slowly over him, taking in every detail without hurry.
Snow on his clothes, dirt on his hands, blood dried along the side of his face, and the way he tried to push himself backward across the floor as if distance alone could protect him.
My jaw tightened slightly.
"…You ran farther than I expected."
My voice remained quiet, but the air in the hut felt heavier the moment the words left my mouth; he didn't answer.
Of course he didn't.
His eyes were wide, breathing uneven, one hand gripping the floor behind him as if preparing to crawl away again.
