Veiled Eyes

Chapter 17

Fear – noun: an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.

Dante’s grin stretched wider—too wide—before his body snapped forward in an inhuman lurch. The first scream was human—raw, ragged pain—but it fractured mid-breath, breaking into a guttural, animalistic roar that made my knees weaken.

Kael’s claws tightened against my side—not gentle, not cruel, just anchoring me where I stood. I pressed closer to him without thinking, the heat of his back the only solid thing in a world that had gone sharp and unreal.

Dante’s body split and cracked, the sounds sickeningly loud in the cavern’s echo. Bone snapped like green wood, each tear of flesh wet and rasping. Teeth burst past his lips, shredding the corners of his mouth in black, tar-like streaks. His spine twisted in violent, jerking angles, every shift punctuated by the crunch of breaking bone, until the man I’d seen was gone—replaced by something built for killing.

“By the maker,” I breathed, my voice barely carrying over the rasp of claws dragging across stone. Dante dropped onto all fours in a disturbing, animal-like crouch, the motion too smooth to be human. Each step forward sent a screech of talons sparking against the rock. His white eyes glowed like twin lanterns in the dark, locked on me with unblinking hunger.

Kael shoved me back a step, his hand sliding from my waist but still held out, a barrier between me and Dante. His entire body was coiled tight, every muscle drawn taut as a bowstring. Claws gleamed at his fingertips, the light catching on their curved edges, and though I couldn’t see his face, I knew his fangs would be bared.

It wasn’t a full shift—just enough to be deadly. Controlled. Contained. As if he refused to let himself give in completely. As if he was holding the monster inside on a short leash… even while it strained against the chain, desperate to break free.

“Shift,” Dante taunted, his voice rasping—wet, broken—like his vocal cords had been shredded in the transformation. “Or I’ll tear her apart while you’re still pretending to be human.”

Kael’s nostrils flared, the glow in his eyes flaring bright for a heartbeat before dimming again. He didn’t take the bait—not yet. His voice was low, steady, and razor-sharp. “You’ll have to go through me first.”

Dante moved—too fast to track. One moment he was crouched, the next he slammed into Kael with bone-shattering force. The impact echoed like thunder, stone cracking under the hit as Kael’s body slammed against the tunnel wall. He crumpled to the ground, the thud deep and sickening.

“Kael!” The scream tore from my throat before I could stop it.

Dante turned toward me, his grin stretching unnaturally wide, skin pulling tight over sharp cheekbones. Teeth—long, needle-sharp—caught the dim light like wet ivory. His glowing white eyes locked on mine, pinning me in place, and the hunger there was unmistakable.

“It’s just us now, little snack,” he rasped, the words thick with something feral—something that had nothing to do with food.

My breath stuttered. The tunnel felt too narrow, the air too heavy. I stumbled back a step, my heel scraping over stone, but there was nowhere to run. His claws clicked as he stalked closer, each step slow, deliberate.

When he lunged, I moved on instinct. My shoulder slammed into the wall as I twisted aside, his claws raking the air where my face had been. Pain flared in my leg, but I shoved it aside and kicked, hard, connecting with his ribs. He grunted—a sound more like an animal than a man—and came at me again, faster.

I ducked under the swing of his arm, driving my elbow into his side. It was like hitting stone, but it knocked him half a step back. I grabbed a loose rock from the ground and swung it with everything I had. The c***k of it connecting with his temple echoed in the tunnel, but instead of falling, he smiled—a slow, awful stretch of his mouth.

“You’ve got teeth,” he rasped, swiping at me again. His claws grazed my arm, a line of fire blooming across my skin.

Before he could close the gap again, a low, guttural growl rolled through the tunnel—behind him.

Kael was on his feet—then on Dante—slamming into him from the side like a thunderclap. The impact reverberated through the cavern walls, stone dust sifting down from the ceiling. They hit the ground in a vicious tangle of claws and teeth, their guttural snarls vibrating through my bones.

They moved too fast for my eyes to follow—brutal, precise, every strike meant to m**m or kill. Black blood sprayed in sickening arcs, hissing where it splattered against the stone, filling the air with an acrid stench that burned my throat.

They were monsters—both of them. The difference was, one of them was my monster.

Kael’s hand locked around Dante’s jaw, forcing his head back. With a final, savage swipe, his claws tore across Dante’s throat. The sound was wet, final.

Dante’s body shuddered once, the glow in his eyes snuffing out like a candle before he collapsed bonelessly to the stone floor.

Kael staggered upright, swaying like the ground beneath him had shifted. A deep gash split his chest, the torn flesh slick with thick, black blood. The scent hit me—sharp, metallic-sour—and I swallowed hard against the urge to gag.

I hadn’t even seen that blow land.

The sight hit harder than it should have, dredging up the dream—the one where my father stood before me, a matching wound blooming across his chest, crimson soaking his shirt. Only this wasn’t a dream, and the blood spilling from Kael wasn’t red.

For a heartbeat, his eyes found mine, the white glow dimming, fighting its way back toward brown.

Then his knees gave out.

And he went down.

“Kael!”

I was already moving, boots skidding over slick stone as I dropped to my knees beside him. His breathing was shallow—each inhale dragging wet and ragged, like it hurt him just to keep air in his lungs.

Up close, the wound was worse. So much worse. Torn muscle gaped beneath the shredded flesh, each pulse of his heart pushing thick, black blood out over my hands when I pressed down.

The moment my skin met it, a sharp, biting sting shot up my palms—like frostbite and acid all at once. I yanked back with a hiss, staring at the faint smoke curling where the smear clung to my skin.

“What—” My voice cracked, the word barely more than a whisper. The burn was still there, under my skin now, like the blood had sunk in and claimed it.

The sting burned hotter the longer the black blood clung to my skin, but I forced my palms back over the wound, ignoring the way it felt like the flesh of my hands might blister. Kael groaned low in his throat, eyes fluttering open just enough for me to see the raw, unguarded pain there.

“Don’t,” he rasped, his breath hitching, trying—weakly—to shove my hands away.

“Shut up,” I snapped, though my voice shook with more fear than anger. “You’re bleeding out.”

His fingers curled around my wrist—not with strength, but enough to still me. “It’ll… hurt you…”

The burn had already burrowed deep into my skin, threading like fire through my veins. Maybe it was killing me. Maybe it wasn’t. But the thought of watching him die here, sprawled in the dark with his blood pooling beneath him, felt worse than any pain.

His eyes cracked open, the faintest glint of brown fighting against the ghostly white that still lingered there. “Just… let go.”

I froze, my pulse thundering in my ears. I could. I could walk away now, leave the monster bleeding out on the cold stone. He’d lied to me. Kept what he was hidden. He was dangerous.

But even as he said to leave him, his fingers tightened around my wrist ever so slightly. And with a sick twist in my chest, I realized part of me didn’t want to let go.

My jaw locked. “Shut up,” I muttered, pressing harder, ignoring the fire eating through my palms. “I’m not letting you die here.”

I knew what his blood was. Or at least I thought I did. Harrowed blood was poison. Corrosive. Every story I’d grown up hearing swore that touching it was a death sentence. And yet here I was—kneeling in it, burning from it, trying to hold his insides together.

“You saved me—twice,” I said, forcing the words past the knot in my throat. “If I let you die now, what does that make me?”

He shook his head weakly, his grip loosening as the fight drained out of him. “Smarter,” he muttered, but there was no edge in it.

I hooked an arm under his shoulders, tugging, trying to haul him up. He grunted, breath hitching in shallow, uneven bursts.

Then his eyes found mine again—less sharp now, more… human. “Thea…” he breathed, my name fracturing halfway through, as if even speaking it cost him.

“Just hold on,” I said, finally hauling him up to his feet, my shoulder wedged under his arm. “Keep talking,” I urged, needing him conscious, needing him here. There was no way I could drag him all the way back to the den if he went limp.

His lips curved faintly, like he was humoring me, even as black blood bubbled at the corner of his mouth. “Knew… you’d be trouble.”

A weak laugh escaped me—half-choked, half-sob. “And yet you kept saving me anyway.”

His weight sagged heavier against me, his voice little more than a ragged whisper.

“Not… saving…” he murmured, breath hitching. “Protecting.”

The word landed like a blow to my chest—sharp, disarming, and leaving me with nothing to say. Before I could form a response, his eyes fluttered closed, his body going slack against mine.

“Kael?” My voice cracked as I shifted my grip, panic scraping up my throat. His head lolled toward my shoulder, the slow, shallow pull of his breathing the only proof he was still alive.

The tunnel around us felt suddenly too quiet. Too still. My ears strained, listening past the rush of my own pulse for any sign of movement in the dark.

I tightened my hold on him, forcing one foot forward, then the other.