Rose levelled her shortsword at the Sorcerer.

“Give me back my heart,” she said through gritted teeth.

The Sorcerer sneered at her. In his right hand he held an ebony stave and in his left her still beating heart. Rose watched it intently. The hunger in her eyes was like that of a pack of wolves.

“What need have you of a heart?” the Sorcerer asked. “I know what it has taken for you to get here, I know what terrible acts you have committed. How will you live with yourself if I return your heart?”

“Give it to me or I will take it from you!” Rose snapped.

“You can but try,” the Sorcerer said.

He raised his stave but Rose was already moving, bringing her sword down on him. It sliced through the Sorcerer’s arm, severing his hand. He shrieked as he turned his stave on her but Rose rolled, grabbed her heart and ran into the black forest before he could strike her. She ran for a long time before she slowed and finally stopped. She looked down at her heart beating gently in her hands.