Verity’s POV

Three years later

I ran.

Branches scraped against my arms, roots clawed at my feet, and blood soaked through the rags that clung to my broken body. My lungs burned, my legs trembled, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

They were behind me.

The rogues.

Snarling, howling, hunting.

I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve their rage. After everything—after years of surviving the darkness they welcomed me into, they had turned on me.

The Dark Lands were never kind. ...