Chapter 10
The morning broke with a grim, suffocating chill. Emma’s eyes snapped open, her chest already heaving from dreams that offered no rest. The memory of Regina’s name screamed into the void clung to her like a second skin. Desperation had crawled beneath her surface, a constant itch she couldn’t ignore.
She couldn’t wait any longer. Her patience had frayed to threads, and with each passing day, the knowledge of Regina out there—injured, alone, hunted—drove her closer to madness.
Emma forced herself out of bed, muscles still throbbing from yesterday’s training. The staff leaning against her bedside table had become an extension of her, her fingers curling around its rough wood as if it were a lifeline.
Her decision was made.
She dressed quickly, movements frantic. Layered leather and wool for warmth, the worn boots Calder had finally deemed good enough for travel. The knapsack she packed was pitifully light, only the barest of essentials. Water, bread, a knife she’d stolen from the kitchens. Enough to get her through the first day. Enough to get her to Regina.
The compound was silent as she slipped through the corridors. The air carried a biting chill, the kind that seeped into the bones and refused to leave. Her breath fogged in the dim light, each exhale a reminder of her own fragility.
But her mind was set. And nothing would stand in her way.
Emma slipped past the guards at the gate with startling ease. Whatever lessons Calder and Eryndra had drilled into her had taken hold, her movements quiet and precise. Every shadow became her ally, every sound a warning.
The moment she reached the tree line, her pace quickened. The forest loomed ahead, wild and sprawling, its depths shrouded in a damp mist that clung to her skin. Emma’s boots crunched over fallen leaves and brittle twigs, the silence of the woods almost deafening.
She pushed forward, every step fueled by sheer willpower. The ache in her muscles became nothing more than a distant thrum, swallowed by her desperation. Her breath was shallow, her gaze darting between the twisted shapes of trees and underbrush.
“Keep going,” she whispered to herself, her voice ragged and torn. “Just keep going.”
The forest closed in around her, thick trunks rising like pillars to the sky, branches clawing at the air. Shafts of pale sunlight pierced the canopy, but the deeper she went, the darker the world became.
The first day passed in a blur of exhaustion and hunger. Her limbs grew heavier with each step, the air itself turning colder. But she pressed on, refusing to stop. To rest was to risk the fear swallowing her whole.
Night descended, swift and unforgiving. Emma built a fire with clumsy hands, her fingers stiff from the cold. The small, flickering flames offered little warmth, but they were enough to chase away the darkness pressing in from all sides.
She curled up against the base of a tree, her body coiled tight as if bracing against the world itself. Sleep came fitfully, plagued by nightmares of Regina calling out to her from some distant, unreachable place.
The second day was worse. Her legs moved like lead, her throat parched, her stomach twisted with hunger. The knife at her belt felt heavier than it should, its cold steel a mockery of her own weakness.
Emma’s frustration built with each step, her own inadequacy gnawing at her resolve. Calder had been right. She wasn’t ready. But it didn’t matter. Not anymore.
Twilight stretched its bruised colors across the sky by the time she stumbled into a clearing. The air was thick with the scent of pine and earth, the quiet almost unnatural.
She sank to her knees, her breath tearing from her lungs in shallow gasps. Her vision swam, a black fog creeping at the edges of her awareness.
“Still think you can make it on your own?”
The voice was low, rough, and all too familiar. Emma’s head jerked up, her eyes narrowing as Calder stepped from the shadows, his expression unreadable.
“What are you doing here?” she snapped, her words splintered with exhaustion.
“Following you, apparently.” Calder’s arms were crossed, his broad shoulders tense. “Had a feeling you’d try something stupid like this.”
“Go back,” Emma snarled. “I don’t need your help.”
Calder’s gaze was steady, unyielding. “Doesn’t matter if you need it. You’re getting it.”
“I don’t have time for this.” Emma tried to push herself up, but her legs wobbled beneath her. She refused to let him see her weakness, to acknowledge how close she was to collapse.
“Emma.” His voice softened, the anger bleeding away. “You’ll never find her like this. You’re running on fumes, trying to pretend you’re something you’re not.”
“Shut up,” she hissed, her fists clenching around the staff. “You don’t understand.”
“I understand more than you think.”
The words twisted something inside her, but she shoved it aside. She couldn’t afford to doubt herself. Not now.
She turned away from him, forcing her legs to carry her forward. The darkness of the forest swallowed her steps, the world narrowing to nothing but the thud of her heartbeat and the crunch of leaves beneath her boots.
Calder’s footsteps followed. He was relentless. A shadow she couldn’t shake.
But then another presence made itself known.
The air grew colder, the silence thickening. Emma’s skin prickled, the fine hairs along her neck rising. It was a feeling she couldn’t quite place—something ancient and wrong.
She slowed, her breath catching in her throat. The world had gone too quiet. No rustling leaves, no distant calls of birds. Just her own shallow breathing.
“Calder?” she whispered, her voice trembling despite herself.
No response.
Panic coiled tight within her chest. She spun around, her gaze searching the darkness. But Calder was gone. The forest itself seemed to pulse, shadows creeping at the edges of her vision.
“Regina...”
The voice slithered through her thoughts, seductive and taunting. It twisted her name like a knife, digging deep into the ache Emma had tried so hard to bury.
“Lost...alone...you left her to die.”
Emma’s hands shook, her grip on the staff unsteady. “No. No, I didn’t...”
“She’s suffering. Screaming for you. And you can’t save her.”
The voice grew louder, its tone honeyed with cruelty. Images flashed before her eyes—Regina’s face twisted in agony, her screams echoing in the darkness.
“Stop it,” Emma choked, tears burning hot against her cheeks. “Just... stop.”
But the voice only laughed, a sound that cut through her like glass. Emma fell to her knees, her strength crumbling beneath the weight of despair.
“Keep running,” the voice cooed. “It’s all you’re good at.”