Run, little Rabbit, Run

Ramona's lungs burned. Her legs screamed in protest. But she didn't stop running.

The cold wind lashed against her skin, and the underbrush tore at her exposed legs, but she didn't dare slow down. She could hear the distant rumble of an approaching car, the deep growl of an engine that sent a fresh wave of terror through her veins.

Then, it stopped.

Her heart lurched.

No… no, no, no.

She stole a glance over her shoulder, and her breath caught in her throat.

Killian had stepped out of the car.

His black boots hit the ground with a slow, deliberate thud, his movements eerily calm. His dark eyes locked onto her like a predator assessing its prey.

Ramona's body screamed at her to move. So she did.

She turned and bolted.

Branches whipped at her arms as she stumbled through the woods, her breaths coming in sharp, panicked gasps. But she knew. She knew it was pointless.

And then—

A deep, guttural crack.