Everything I do, I do to see you miserable...
Your kind doesn't deserve happiness.
The thought burned in her mind as she drew her wooden arrow, aiming it straight at his heart.
He looked up, his eyes wide and luminous, like twin moons reflecting untold sadness. It was as though he had never known a moment of joy in his life—and now, he wouldn't have the chance to.
Poor thing, she mused, a flicker of pity breaking through her hardened resolve.
Let me end your misery quickly.
She released the arrow, swift and true, but something unexpected happened.
It struck his chest, yes, but not deep enough to kill.
She. Never. Missed.
Her fingers twitched against the bowstring as doubt slithered into her thoughts. Did she hesitate? Did she…not want to kill him?
No.
Impossible.
She descended from the tree with feline grace, her eyes locked on his trembling form as he stumbled backward against the rough bark of an ancient oak. His breathing was ragged, his expression a mixture of fear and desperation.
As he should be, she told herself. And yet, there was something else—something unexpected stirring within her.
It wasn't pity.
It wasn't compassion.
It was…affection?
She crushed the thought as soon as it surfaced, forcing a sneer to curl her lips.
"Miserable creature," she spat, her voice a venomous purr. "It's your lucky day."
She flashed a grin so wicked it sent a visible shiver through him. His knees buckled, and his back pressed harder against the tree, as if he could melt into it to escape her.
"Let me take you home," she purred, her tone drenched in dark promise.
His eyes rolled back, and he slumped to the ground, unconscious.
She stared down at his lifeless form, her emotions a storm of contradictions. Her hands tightened around her bow as
she muttered to herself, "What have I done?"