The forest blurred into streaks of shadow and jagged branches as Liam sprinted deeper into the unknown, lungs burning, heart hammering against his ribs like it wanted out. Behind him, the shouts of the two pursuers sliced through the air—harsh, mocking words he refused to let slow him down. 'Not stopping. Not now. The girls made it across. That's what matters.' His boots slammed against roots and uneven ground, each step a desperate prayer that he could buy them just a little more time.
He ignored the taunts, pushing harder, muscles screaming. Then the air changed. The ground felt different underfoot—darker, almost pulsing with warning. Liam risked a glance over his shoulder. The two men had stopped dead at the edge of whatever line he had crossed, their faces twisted not with triumph but with something sharper: fear.
