Chapter 37

Rielle.

My heart pounded as Jameson's smirk suddenly began to fade into darkness, the sound of the crowd's jeers and the swish of the descending blade blending into a cacophony of terror. Suddenly, I jerked awake, gasping for air. My chest felt tight, and cold sweat drenched my body. The remnants of the nightmare clung to my mind, refusing to let go. I could still feel the sting of the crowd's words, the cold finality of Jameson's blade. I instinctively looked down at the scars from Jameson's last attempt on my life.

I sat up abruptly, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The room was still dark, but something had changed. Heavy drops crashed against the roof, each impact resonating with a deep, drumming intensity that seemed to shake the cottage to its foundation. Thunder boomed, loud and frequent. It had begun raining, and it was heavy. The windows rattled as the rain pelted the glass with an almost aggressive force. I clutched my head in my hands, trying to steady my racing heart. My body trembled, and tears streamed down my face as the weight of the nightmare settled over me like a suffocating shroud. I could never escape it. It had been a nightmare, but it was only a foreshadowing of what was to come when they found me.

Each word, each accusation, echoed in my mind, blending with the memories of the real accusations and the real agony. My father’s broken body, Lance's disappointment, Logan’s heartbreak, Aurora’s death—they were all too real, and the dream had only served to drown me further in the quicksand of despair.

I could still hear Raphael's voice, condemning me, sentencing me to death. My father's disappointment, my brother's betrayal, Logan's anger—it all felt like a noose tightening around my neck. The hopelessness of my situation crashed over me in waves, pulling me under.

"Enough," I whispered, my voice breaking, my body shaking so badly that I felt the vibration in my very bones. I couldn't do this anymore.

I could not keep being positive that there would be some improvement. Nothing would change. I couldn't escape the past; it was always there, a constant reminder of all I had done wrong and the pain I had caused. I had lost everything—my family, my mate, my freedom. The thought of facing another day in this torment was unbearable.

I stumbled out of bed, my legs weak and unsteady. I had to leave. I had to get away from this place, from these memories. I couldn't stay here and wait for the inevitable. No one would ever believe me. No one would ever see the truth. I was alone, abandoned by everyone I had ever cared about.

I gathered some things in a daze, my hands shaking so badly that I dropped them several times.

I shoved my belongings into a bag, my mind racing with a thousand thoughts. Where would I go? What would I do? None of it mattered. I just had to get away, to escape this nightmare that had become my life.

With my bag slung over my shoulder, I bolted out of the cottage and into the pounding rain. The cold droplets stung my skin as I ran, soaking me to the bone almost instantly. I had no plan, no destination in mind; I just needed to get away.

I ran through the woods, my feet slipping on the wet ground. The foliage and verdure pulled at me, scratching my arms and legs as I pushed through. My breath came in desperate gasps, the cold air burning my lungs. The darkness was thick, the only light coming from occasional flashes of lightning that illuminated the twisted branches and underbrush. But with each sudden boom of thunder, my heart threatened to jump out of my throat.

Out of nowhere, as I ran, I began to see movement in the shadows. Dark figures seemed to flicker in and out of my vision. I felt a shiver run down my spine. They moved with an eerie, almost predatory grace, like they were not human, rather they were ghosts. And they were getting closer with every step. Panic surged through me, and I ran faster, my heart pounding in my ears.

The figures surrounded me, closing in from all sides. My frantic breathing and the pounding rain were the only sounds, the oppressive silence broken only by the occasional rumble of thunder. I stumbled over a root, falling hard to the ground, pain coursing through my body, but I scrambled back to my feet, desperate to keep moving. I could not slow down.

My vision blurred with tears and rain, and my legs felt like lead. The figures were almost upon me now, their dark shapes closing in, suffocating me with the distance they lessened between me and them. I pushed myself harder, my muscles screaming in protest. I couldn't let them catch me. I couldn't let them take me back.

My desperation drove me forward, but the dark figures were relentless. They were faster and stronger, and I was running out of time. With a final burst of energy, I broke through a dense thicket, the branches tearing at my clothes and skin. But as I emerged on the other side, I found myself at the edge of a steep drop.

I turned, my back to the precipice, and faced the figures that had been chasing me. They advanced slowly, their forms becoming clearer in the flashes of lightning. They all had masks and were dressed in black hoods that reached their ankles. They looked like creatures of the underground. I had nowhere left to run. My breath came in ragged gasps, my body trembling with exhaustion and fear.

"Stay back!" I shouted, my voice barely audible over the storm. But they continued to advance.

As they closed in, I realized that I had no choice. I couldn't go back. I couldn't face that nightmare again. My brother had been right; it would have been better if I had never survived. I would rectify that. I made my decision, and with a final, desperate look at the advancing figures, I turned and jumped, the darkness swallowing me whole as I fell into the oppressing abyss.