“Stop,” she gasped, grabbing Lavinia’s arm.

In an instant, she was slammed against a tree.

Lavinia’s hand pressed against Sylivia’s throat,not choking, but in a tight hold,“You don’t get to order me around,” Lavinia hissed. Her breath was hot, her eyes wild, glowing faintly in the dark like coals about to shatter. “You made your choice when you followed me.So shut up and keep up.”

Sylivia’s chest heaved. Her back ached against the bark. But she didn’t look away.

Lavinia’s grip didn’t loosen. But her hand trembled slightly just enough for Sylivia to feel it.

“I should have left you,” Lavinia whispered. “Burned everything. You’re just another liability.”

Sylivia reached up slowly—recklessly—and touched the wrist that held her. Lavinia flinched like she’d been burned.

 “And yet you didn’t,” Sylivia said. “You can’t even say why.”

Lavinia’s jaw clenched. Her eyes darted away for just a second, then snapped back.

“Don’t pretend this is about you,” she spat. “You’re not special. You’re just… convenient.”

Sylivia smiled, bitter and shaking. “Then let go of me.”

A long silence. Wind shifted the leaves.

Lavinia stared at her like she was a puzzle she hated needing to solve.

Then slowly, almost reluctantly,she pulled her hand back. Syilvia sagged against the tree, catching her breath.

Lavinia turned away and muttered, “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Sylivia stared at her, jaw tight. “Maybe not. But I know what you are.”

Lavinia paused.

“And?”

“And I’m not running.”