My Mate, My Prey
Daisy Swift
The arrow left my bow. A muffled grunt—not a deer, but a man.
I found him under a tree, near death. Handsome, like carved from myth. My arrow pierced his thigh, two others his chest. I should’ve run. Instead, I took him back.
That choice sealed my fate.
Now, the question burns: Did I save him… or doom us both?
I found him under a tree, near death. Handsome, like carved from myth. My arrow pierced his thigh, two others his chest. I should’ve run. Instead, I took him back.
That choice sealed my fate.
Now, the question burns: Did I save him… or doom us both?