Page 14 of The Midnight Death Match

Finally, he says, “You want my silence? Then keep them out of it. Keep the rot away from this farm.”

“And Leif?” I ask, referring to my brother, the oldest of my younger half-siblings.

His eyes flick to mine, shadowed now. “He’s got his own ideas. Dangerous ones.”

“He learned from the best.”

Gunnar turns from me, pacing a slow line along the edge of the barn. His limp catches now and then, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. “He’s been speaking in the square. Leif.”

I frown. “About what?”

“Rousing the old ones and planting fear in the young. He’s talking about ‘tainted blood’ and ‘halfling corruption.’” He spits the words like they taste foul before staring me down. “He says you’re the start of a disease, and if Skoro doesn’t cut it out, it’ll spread.”

My mouth goes dry. “He’s saying that? Aboutme?”

“Correct.”

I take a step back, stunned. Leif, the brother who used to carry Runa on his shoulders, who taught me how to tie a string and start a fire, is doing this? “Why would he?”

“Because fear’s easier than truth,” Gunnar mutters. “And power’s easier than peace.”

“You would know.”

He doesn’t deny it.

I stare at him, something inside me cracking in two. “You’re letting him do this.”

He turns slowly. “I’m not stopping him. There’s a difference.”

“This will come back on you.”

Gunnar’s hard expression doesn’t waver.

“You don’t even realize what you’re starting,” I say.

He only shrugs. “I can handle it.”

“You need to talk him down.”

“I don’t have to do anything you say.”

Harek moves, silent and steady, and opens the door.

He’s right. This is going nowhere. I’ve warned him not to let this get worse.

Without a word, I exit. Harek and I hurry toward the same hidden door in Skoro’s wall we came in through. We don’t speak until the barn is behind us, the path ahead winding back into the trees.

Harek doesn’t speak, and I’m grateful. The silence lets the weight of everything settle. Leif’s betrayal, Gunnar’s disgust, and the widening rift between what I was and what I’m becoming.

But underneath the ache, something steadier burns.

My brother thinks I’m rot, nothing more than a disease. He could possibly have more disdain for me than my stepfather. Let them think what they want. They can whisper, carve warnings into doors, and preach about corruption and curses. It doesn’t change the truth pulsing beneath my skin.

I’mnot afraid of what I am. What scares me is what I’ll have to do to protect the siblings who believe in me.

And if that makes me the nightmare they see in the dark? So be it.

Chapter

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