Exclusive Excerpt. Chapter 1
Vibe: Gloria Regali (feat. Fleurie) — Tommee Profitt
Elara ran without looking back. The forest fled beneath her feet, or she fled through the forest.
/“Again. The same thing, again.“/
She knew the ground around the cabin well — hours of walking it, memorizing it. But panic had done its work. Direction slipped away from her — the trees looked identical, the ground identical, even the smell of damp everywhere indistinguishable. Her legs carried her forward, but where — she did not know.
/“Where is the cabin? Where is everyone?“/
To scream would mean giving herself away instantly. All that was left was to run and hope.
A branch lashed across her face — sharp, splitting her cheek open with pain. Elara did not even flinch. Her body was already working apart from the pain. Her heart hammered somewhere under her throat, her lungs burned with air she could not draw fast enough. Every breath came shallow, torn, forced through a chest locked in spasm. The cold in the air had changed — grown wetter.
“I see tracks! This way, over here!”
Footsteps behind her — not one person. Many. The ground seemed to shake under heavy strangers’ boots. Or it was her own legs shaking. She pushed her way between the trunks. Roots caught at her clothes — twice she nearly fell. The second time she caught herself against a trunk by miracle, scraping her palm raw. Blood on the bark — one more trace left behind.
/“Tracks... I am leaving tracks everywhere.“/
Movement flickered at her side. Not from the direction of the chase. Elara did not turn her head — afraid to break stride and lose her pace.
/“Christopher? Or not?“/
Suddenly fingers closed around her wrist from behind in a vice grip. A sharp pull downward, under a steep slope. She did not even have time to cry out — she was already pressed back against a chest, a hot palm clamped over her mouth. Another arm hooked beneath her ribs — holding her tight, but not to the point of pain.
A massive upturned root hid them from view. The ground here was damp, thick with the smell of moss and rotting bark. They went still, merging with the shadow.
“Quiet, little silver-haired runaway. We cannot let them hear us.”
She had not meant to scream — her body had simply locked with shock. Her spine pressed into the chest behind her. His knees clamped her thighs from both sides. The hand over her mouth was large, dry, and hot, smelling of leather and something like smoke.
/“Who is this?!“/
Starting September 1, 2026, chapters of Book Two will begin releasing on this platform for paid subscribers. For free Book Two will pick back up on December 1, 2026.
Until then, additional, more explicit scenes from Book One will appear on my Patreon — for those of you who left a piece of your heart with one character or another.
While you wait, here is the Book Two playlist. It will grow along with the release of new chapters.
🎵 Apple Music: https://apple.co/44WFDKT
🎵 Spotify: https://bit.ly/4wH4K0o
