Leon woke up with a jolt, his heart pounding so hard it hurt. His breath came in short, uneven gasps, and when he brought a hand to his face, his fingertips came away wet. Tears. He didn't even remember crying.
The dream clung to him—Riven falling, the arrow piercing through him, Theresa's voice echoing somewhere behind. His chest tightened until it felt hard to breathe. It wasn't just sadness. It was fear.
He sat up quickly, his blond hair sticking to his forehead, damp with sweat. The sheets were tangled around him, his pillow soaked. For a second, he thought he could still hear the bowstring snapping in his ears.
It was so real, and he was so... Cruel. He could not believe that it was him. Was it him? Or something his mind happened to come up with? Either way, he did not want to remember it.
He looked around the room. It was quiet. Too quiet. Riven was not here. That was right, he left after they...
