Angel's POV
My lungs were screaming.
The darkness was closing in, swallowing the edges of my vision like ink spreading across parchment.
This is it. This is how I die.
By someone who wanted me dead badly enough to drown me like an unwanted kitten.
My struggles were weakening. My body was giving up, surrendering to the inevitable.
Then - a scream.
Not mine. Someone else's.
The hands released me.
I exploded from the water, gasping, choking, my body convulsing as I tried to expel water and inhale air at the same time. I stumbled toward the riverbank, my legs barely supporting me, coughing so hard I thought my ribs would crack.
When I could finally see again, I turned.
A man stood in the shallows, holding his leg. Blood poured between his fingers, mixing with the river water, turning it pink. He was screaming - high-pitched, agonized sounds that echoed off the trees.
An arrow protruded from his thigh, buried deep in the muscle.
I followed the trajectory back to the shore.
