The rogue warrior moved with a lethal grace that left his enemy no chance. Within seconds, the assassin crumpled to the ground, motionless. The stranger didn’t hesitate, didn’t even spare his fallen opponent a glance as he straightened, his fierce gaze scanning the forest as if searching for something—or someone.
And then his eyes landed on me.
I cursed under my breath, every instinct screaming at me to flee. But I couldn’t move, trapped under the intensity of his gaze. His eyes were dark, piercing, filled with an unyielding resolve that terrified me. He took a step forward, the shadows clinging to him, amplifying his aura of danger.
“I don’t appreciate being watched,” he said, his voice low and edged with warning.
“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to,” I stammered, clutching my belly protectively. My heart thundered in my chest as he approached, his movements slow, deliberate, like a predator circling its prey. “I’m just passing through,” I added quickly, though my voice shook.
His gaze dropped to my belly, and for a fleeting moment, his expression softened. He took a breath, as if gathering himself, but his eyes remained cold. “You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said, a strange hint of reluctance in his tone.
“That’s not your concern,” I replied, summoning the last of my courage. “I need to keep moving.”
But he didn’t step aside. Instead, he leaned closer, his face a breath away from mine. “You saw something you shouldn’t have. That makes you a liability.”
Panic flared, and my pulse raced. I could feel the sharp edge of his intent, the chilling calculation in his eyes. He wasn’t just another rogue; he was something more dangerous, someone who valued nothing but survival.
I took a shaky step back, feeling the rough bark of the tree dig into my spine. “Please,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “I just need to get away. I won’t tell anyone what I saw.”
His gaze locked onto mine, unyielding, but something in his expression flickered. His eyes softened, just for a second, as they dropped back to my belly. I could see the conflict in his stance, a struggle between his instinct to eliminate any threat and some other force—perhaps pity.
“You’re pregnant,” he murmured, almost to himself, his voice laced with a reluctant understanding.
“Yes,” I whispered, seizing the moment. “I just want to keep my child safe. Please… let me go.”