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Chapter 93: The Hostage Crisis

The forest was thick with tension, a suffocating blanket of uncertainty pressing down on every breath I took.

Alaric’s men tightened their grips around my arms, pulling me roughly back towards camp.

My mind raced, replaying the last few minutes in a frantic loop. Jax’s lifeless eyes haunted me, a constant reminder of what Alaric was capable of.

But before we could get far, a sharp shout cut through the night, drawing everyone’s attention.

“We’ve got a hostage!” one of Alaric’s men yelled, his voice echoing through the trees. The guards flanking me paused, their eyes narrowing as they scanned the shadows.

A figure was dragged into the clearing, struggling against the iron grip of two of Alaric’s enforcers.

My heart stopped as I recognized the hooded figure, their cloak torn and muddied.

It was Marlow, one of Silverwood’s key leaders, and someone who had always stood by my side through every trial and tribulation.

“What is this?” I demanded, wrenching myself free from the guards
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