As always, death bloomed in my wake.

I slashed my hands through the brush, gutting the life from the shrubs that snagged my legs. As I forced the faint pulse of magic from their roots they blackened instantly, shriveling into the same putrid rot that paved the path. I didn’t wait for them to fall as I tore through the dying weeds, my breath coming in ragged hitches as energy burned through my veins.

“It is her! It’s the cursed princess!”

“Don’t let her get away!”

I turned my head over my shoulder.

Magic bought me time, but the two men chasing me were still closer than I was comfortable with. Hissing air through clenched teeth, I flung myself around the carcass of a thousand-year-old tree, using the trunk to redirect my sprint. Our withering world crunched beneath my feet as I lengthened my strides and the smoke-filled air seared my throat until each breath was an aching grit in my lungs.

But from how the thudding steps gained on me, my efforts were useless.

I cursed as a stroke of lightning cleaved the darkness.

I shouldn’t have fucking followed him.

When I spotted a tree not as blackened and dead as its family surrounding it, I dug my heels into the ground, swearing again as the abrupt stop made me slip on the wasteland of my making. Bending down, I ignored the accusatory silence from the tree and ripped one of its blighted roots from the ground.

The men caught up with me in the next moment, their smiles slow as they crowded me against the trunk. My chest heaved, and I gripped the root tighter when they came closer, their steps crunching the wooden husks beneath their boots.

One of them, a shorter, bearded man with a nose reddened and swollen from years of abusing liquor, gave a low whistle. “The lost princess. Right here before us.”

“Who would have thought,” the other added. “On the run for centuries and so careless as to stumble right into us tonight.” He tilted his head. “This is where your journey ends, Azaleah Oakgards.”

I grinned coldly.

This definitely wasn’t where my journey would end.