Page 140 of Meet Your Maker: Part One

He sets Sumi down, the puppy’s paws scrabbling for purchase on the wet earth. Before I can scream a warning, Mishka clenches his fists, squares his small shoulders, and steps in front of Sumi—his frame trembling but unyielding.

My chest seizes.

No, baby. Please, no.

The mist curls around Mishka’s feet, winding higher like serpentine vines. The air turns colder, the world narrowing to this fragile moment.

His eyes widen in confusion, fear flickering like a candle in a storm.

No.

The fog slithers up his legs, clinging with malevolent purpose.

“No!” My voice cracks, raw and desperate. “Please, Silas, don’t!”

Mishka tries to run—oh God, he tries—but his steps falter. The mist grips him like quicksand, dragging him down. His knees buckle, his small body sagging under an invisible weight he can’t fight.

Sumi’s pale fur stands out against the wet grass. The puppy whines softly, a helpless, confused sound. Then his legs give way, and he crumples beside Mishka.

The fog thickens, coiling tighter, a suffocating shroud. My legs feel leaden, my muscles like stone. The mist seeps into me, cold and relentless.

I drop to my knees beside Mishka, my hands trembling as I clutch his shoulders.

“Mishka, baby, stay with me!” My voice is high-pitched, frayed, panic shredding every word.

He doesn’t respond. His eyelids flutter, glassy and distant, his breaths shallow and fragile.

“No, no, no.” The words spill out, a frantic litany, tears hot on my cheeks. “Please, wake up!”

The fog presses in, stealing strength, stealing hope. My thoughts blur, a thick cotton haze smothering my mind. The world tilts, the sickly green mist swallowing everything—my son, my senses, my will to fight.

This can’t be happening.

But the cold seeps deeper, and the darkness coils tighter.

And all I can do is hold on.

I try to hold on to Mishka, my fingers clutching his small shoulders, but they refuse to obey. My arms tremble, the last of my strength slipping away like water through a sieve.

“No,” I whisper, the word barely more than a breath. “Please… stay…”

His weight slips from my grasp. His small body crumples to the ground, Sumi’s pale form collapsing beside him. Panic claws at me, feral and useless—I can’t move. I can’t breathe.

I’m sinking.

No. Not like this.

A sudden flare of warmth ignites in my chest, raw and fierce, crashing into me like a wave.

My bonds blaze to life.

Tomas. Ben. Shadow. Even Gray.

Their fear, their rage, their love surge into me, each one a brilliant thread of light piercing the suffocating dark. Their voices roar through the haze—distant but clear, a last psychic salvo.

“Hold on, baby.”

“We’re coming!”

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