Chapter 264

A Desperate Escape

Evelyn Sinclair's breath hitched when she spotted the disguised tribesman.

The relentless rain transformed the night into an icy void.

Drenched leaves trembled violently around them, their rustling drowned by the roaring waves and the wind's ghostly wails. The atmosphere was surreal, thick with despair.

Shivers wracked Evelyn's soaked body, the cold seeping deep into her bones.

She paused just long enough to gulp air when heavy footsteps pounded behind them—close, terrifyingly close.

Evelyn locked eyes with the impostor. Without a word, they sprinted forward.

Rain lashed her face like shards of glass.

Her lungs burned. Her legs screamed in protest. The darkness swallowed everything except the drumming rain.

Branches and leaves crunched beneath their frantic steps. Escape was all that mattered—even if they had to crawl.

The tribesmen hurled branches like spears. One struck Evelyn's back. Pain flared, but she clenched her teeth and pushed harder.

Thorns tore at her palms, leaving bloody trails. She barely felt them.

Ahead, the impostor moved with panther-like grace, his athletic form cutting through the jungle effortlessly.

Evelyn forced her trembling legs to keep pace.

The hunters were gaining. If they caught up—

Her foot snagged on a root.

She crashed face-first into the mud, a cry tearing from her throat as pain shot up her arm.

The impostor whirled around.

"I'm fine!" she gasped, scrambling up. "Go!"

Then—

The ground vanished beneath her.

Her stomach lurched as she plummeted.

Fingers scrabbling, she caught a vine. Thorns bit into her flesh, but she held on, dangling over nothingness.

Her arms shook violently. She was at her limit.

The tribesmen's chants slithered through the trees—a death sentence.

Hopelessness coiled around her throat.

Then—

A hand clamped around her wrist.

The impostor hauled her up, his grip iron-strong.

Evelyn barely registered the pit below—lined with jagged spikes. One misstep, and she'd have been impaled.

"Run," he ordered.

She wiped her face—rain or tears, she couldn't tell—and stumbled after him.

No stopping. No looking back.

The jungle spat them onto a maze of paths. The impostor wove through them, doubling back until the hunters' cries faded.

When he finally stopped, Evelyn collapsed.

Silence. Then—

Sobs ripped from her chest, raw and violent, swallowed by the storm.

The impostor crouched before her. Moonlight revealed his true face—high cheekbones, striking eyes, features too refined for this hellscape.

"Don't cry," he murmured.

Evelyn sucked in a breath. They weren't safe yet.

She swiped at her cheeks. "Let's go."

Questions burned her tongue—how he'd gotten here, why he was helping her—but survival came first.

He nodded. "You'll be safe soon."

The promise hung between them as they vanished into the night.