Page 31 of Chains of Nightshade

"We have enough for days," she says softly.

I ignore her, disappearing back into the shadows of the forest. It's easier this way. Safer. The further I stay from her, the less chance I have of destroying us both.

The cycle continues - hunt, return, avoid, repeat. Each time I come back, she's there, her presence a constant reminder of everything I can't have. Everything I shouldn't want.

Deep in the forest, I coil around a massive oak, my claws digging into the bark. The thicket muffles my frustrated roar. Even here, alone, her scent lingers on my skin like a curse.

"Damn it all!" My tail lashes out, snapping a young sapling. "This wasn't part of the plan."

The plan was simple: use the human, escape, and return home. Not... this. Not these feelings that twist inside me like poison. Every time she looks at me with those eyes full of hope, something in my chest constricts.

I press my forehead against the rough bark. Her face haunts me - the way she lights up when I return to camp, how she reaches for me despite my coldness. The pure longing in her gaze when she thinks I'm not looking.

"She's just a human," I snarl to myself, but the words ring hollow.

My fist connects with the tree trunk. The impact sends shockwaves up my arm, but the physical pain is nothing compared to the chaos in my mind. I got what I wanted - my freedom. So why do I feel more trapped than ever?

The guilt gnaws at me, sharper than any blade. I manipulated her, used her weakness, her desperation. And now... now she looks at me like I'm her salvation.

"I should have left her behind." The words taste like ash in my mouth. But even as I say them, my body tenses at the thought of her alone, unprotected.

Another tree falls victim to my rage. The crash echoes through the forest, matching the thundering in my chest. This weakness, these... feelings. They make me want to tear the forest apart.

I'm ancient. Powerful. I've lived centuries without needing anyone. So why does the thought of her tears make my heart clench? Why does her smile haunt my dreams?

The anger builds, hot and fierce in my veins. Anger at myself, at her, at these unwanted emotions that threaten everything I am.

The forest around me feels suffocating. Every breath draws in her scent - a mix of wild herbs and something uniquely her. I need to leave. Now. Before these feelings root deeper, before I lose myself completely in what she makes me feel.

I return to our camp, my scales barely making a sound against the forest floor. Each movement is calculated, precise. Years of captivity taught me the value of silence, and now it serves a different purpose - keeping us hidden from the dark elves who hunt us.

The fire has burned low, casting dancing shadows across our makeshift shelter. Vera lies curled on her side, her breath steady in sleep. My coils tighten involuntarily at the sight of her.

Her face holds none of the tension from our earlier confrontation. In sleep, she looks almost fragile, like those porcelain dolls the dark elf children used to play with. The firelight catches her blonde curls, turning them to liquid gold where they spill across her cheek. Her skin glows with a soft flush from the heat of the dying flames.

I find myself moving closer, drawn by some force I can't - won't - name. A stray curl falls across her face, and my fingerstwitch with the urge to brush it away. I curl them into fists instead, my claws biting into my palms.

"Foolish girl," I whisper, too quietly to wake her. "Trusting a monster like me."

Her cheeks are still flushed from the fire's warmth, and I remember how they felt beneath my fingers just nights ago. The memory sends an unwelcome surge of heat through my body. I force myself to look away, but her peaceful expression burns itself into my mind.

My tail coils restlessly as I watch her sleeping form by the dying fire. She looks peaceful, vulnerable. My chest tightens. No. I won't think about how she curls into herself when she sleeps, or how her face softens in the firelight.

"Damn this weakness," I mutter, running a hand through my hair. The dark elves never managed to break me, yet this slip of a human has worked her way under my scales without even trying.

I gather my minimal belongings, careful not to make a sound. My homeland lies far to the north, beyond the Shadowspine Mountains. If I travel through the night, I can put enough distance between us before she wakes.

Vera shifts in her sleep, a small whimper escaping her lips. My body freezes, every muscle tensing. For a moment, I consider staying, protecting her from whatever nightmare plagues her dreams.

"Fuck." The word comes out as a hiss. This is exactly why I need to go. These... feelings. They make me weak, vulnerable. A naga warrior reduced to watching a human sleep.

I slither toward the tree line, each movement deliberate and silent. The mountains call to me, promising freedom, power, everything I've dreamed of during my imprisonment. Yet my tail drags, as if weighed down by invisible chains.

"I won't look back," I tell myself firmly. "She was nothing but a tool. Nothing more."

The lie tastes bitter on my tongue, but I force myself forward. Into the darkness. Away from her warmth. Away from this madness that threatens to consume me.

I pause at the edge of our camp. Against my better judgment, I look back at her sleeping form. The dying embers paint shadows across her face, making her look even more fragile than usual. Her chest rises and falls with each peaceful breath, completely unaware that I'm about to disappear from her life forever.

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