Chapter 35

Chapter Thrity Five

The dream pulled me in before I realized what was happening. One moment I was lying in bed, the echoes of the Lunar Redemption Day still swirling in my mind. The next, I was standing in a dimly lit house that felt familiar, though I had never been there before.

The air was thick with tension, and the sharp scent of smoke tickled my nose. My heart raced, but I quickly realized the fear wasn't mine. I wasn't truly there-at least not in the way I understood being somewhere. I looked down at myself, my hands now smaller trembling as I tried to make sense of the strange, dreamlike clarity.

"Come on!" a voice cried, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I turned to see a boy, no older than twelve, his face smudged with diet and his dark eyes wide with terror. He grabbed my hand with surprising strength. "We have to run!"

I stumbled after him, my bare feet slapping against the wooden floor The house around us was alive with chaos-screams echoed in the distance, mingled with the guttural howls of wolves. Glass shattered somewhere, followed by heavy thuds and the crash of furniture.

Fear clawed at me, but it wasn't my own-it belonged to the small girl whose body I now occupied. I glanced down at the long white nightdress that swished against my legs, and when we passed a mirror, I froze.

The reflection wasn't mine.

Long, ginger locks framed a pale, frightened face, and wide green eyes stared back at me. I touched my cheek, and the girl in the mirror mimicked my movement. The boy tugged on my arm impatiently.

"Come on, we don't have time!"

but the voice that came out wasn't mine. It was higher, softer, trembling with

down a flight of stairs. "We have to do what Grandpa told us," he

words, the sensations, the smells, the terror. This wasn't just a dream—it felt

reached the bottom of the stairs, and the boy dropped to his knees, yanking a rug aside to reveal a hidden trapdoor. His small hands

I whispered, my

a moment. "It's

into the dark space below, his hands steady despite the fear etched into his face. He climbed down

was the sound of our

silhouetted against the dim

we both cried in

He managed a weak smile, his eyes full of a

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Chapter Thrity Five

voice firm despite his obvious pain.

the boy shouted, his

old man shook his head. "I'll hold them off. You need to go now He reached out, pulling the trapdoor shut behind

of us

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