The Prey

Was I dead?

I think I was dead.

There were clouds in my head—thick, suffocating. My body didn’t feel like mine. I couldn’t tell if it was moving or floating, heavy or light. The world around me was strange, distant, like I was caught between two realms.

Snow.

I remembered snow. Biting winds, the cruel embrace of frost gnawing at my skin. I’d been running. From what? From who? Him. Maybe me.

But now… warmth.

Why did I feel warm when I should’ve been frozen solid? Why did my veins hum like molten fire coursed through them?

My eyes fluttered open, but the world remained blurry, soft edges...