Two
1161 Words
The rain stopped hours ago. She lay still beneath the coarse blanket, listening to the creak of the cabin as the wind moved through the trees outside. The air had cooled; the fire in the stove had burned low to embers. Somewhere in the darkness, Nali moved, a quiet shift of weight, a faint rustle of cloth. She knew without opening her eyes that he was still awake.
Watching.
She hated that she could feel it, the weight of his presence like a thread tied around her, tugging at something deep in her chest. The same warmth he’d left behind when his fangs pierced her. She couldn’t stay here.
Her family’s faces swam in her mind, their voices echoing in the blood-soaked memory. The men in black would still be searching. And Nali… whatever he was, she couldn’t trust him. Not after what he’d done. Not after the way his hand had lingered over her heart like he owned it.
The blanket slid silently from her shoulders. She rose slowly, every movement deliberate. Her bare feet found the cold wooden floor, and she winced at the faint creak beneath her weight.
No sound from him.
She kept her eyes on the shadowed corner where he’d last been. Nothing stirred. Maybe he was resting after all, the wound in his side pulling at him.
Her gaze drifted to the door. The latch was simple, a wooden bar wedged across two metal hooks. One sharp movement, and she’d be outside. Free.
Her heartbeat thudded faster, a steady drum in her ears as she padded across the cabin. She reached for the bar.
“You’re leaving.”
The voice came from behind her. Smooth. Low. Too close.
She spun, heart leaping into her throat.
He stood between her and the bed now, as though he’d simply appeared there without crossing the space. Candlelight caught the line of his jaw, the faint gleam of his eyes. No sound had betrayed his movement.
“I—” She swallowed, her voice thin. “I need to go.”
One brow lifted slightly. “Into the forest? At night?”
“I’ll take my chances.”
He took a single step forward, and she stepped back, her spine brushing the rough wood of the door. His gaze held hers, unreadable. “You wouldn’t last an hour. Not with them still hunting.”
“I can’t just sit here,” she hissed. “I don’t even know who you are, what you are and I’m supposed to trust you?”
“I never asked you to trust me.” His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it now, a hint of something sharper under the surface. “I asked you to stay alive.”
Her fingers brushed the latch. “Then let me do that my way.”
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. Then she wrenched the bar free.
Cold air rushed in as she shoved the door open. She bolted into the night, her bare feet sinking into damp earth. The moon was out, casting silver over the forest, and the trees loomed like sentinels as she ran. Branches clawed at her arms, wet leaves slapped her face, but she didn’t slow.
She didn’t look back. Her breath came fast, each inhale burning. Her legs ached from the uneven ground, the sucking pull of mud. She kept moving, deeper into the trees, past the sound of the stream, past the ridge where the land dipped into shadow. She had no idea where she was going, only that every step put distance between her and him. Or so she thought. It happened in silence.
One moment she was running. The next her wrist was caught.
She stumbled to a halt, the force spinning her halfway around. His hand was a steel band around her, warm despite the night air. Her breath came in gasps, the world tilting around her as she met his eyes.
“You think I can’t find you?” His voice was quiet, almost soft, but it slid under her skin like a blade. “I can hear your heartbeat from a mile away.”
She tried to jerk her arm free. “Let go.”
His grip didn’t tighten, but it didn’t loosen either. “If I let you go, they’ll find you. They’ll carve you open before you can even scream.”
She froze, the words lodging deep. “You don’t know that.”
His gaze held hers, and in it she saw something dark and certain. “I do.”
They stood there, the forest silent around them but for the wind. His hand on her wrist was firm but not painful, his thumb brushing lightly over her pulse. The contact sent a shiver through her not from fear alone, though she wished that’s all it was.
She hated that she noticed the heat of him. The steadiness in his grip. The way his presence filled the space between them, making the night seem smaller.
“This isn’t a game,” he said, low. “Try to run again, and I won’t be gentle bringing you back.”
Her lips parted, a retort forming but it caught in her throat when he stepped closer. His shadow fell over her, his scent smoke, rain, and that faint metallic edge, curling around her senses. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body in the cold night air.
The danger in him was undeniable. But so was the pull.
She forced her voice steady. “You can’t keep me here.”
Something unreadable flickered across his face. “Maybe not. But until you’re ready to stop running headfirst into your own death, I will.”
Her heart was hammering again, too fast, too loud. She wondered if he could hear it now, the way he claimed. His eyes dipped briefly to her throat, the bandages hidden beneath her shirt, and her pulse seemed to leap against his gaze.
Then he released her. The sudden absence of his touch left her skin cold. She stared at him, confused.
He stepped back, motioning toward the dark path behind him. “Go on, then. If you’re so sure you can survive.”
She didn’t move. The forest stretched out behind her... silent, endless, unknowable. She thought of the men in black. Of her mother’s voice screaming. Of Yalah’s eyes. Her body trembled.
“You’re trying to scare me,” she whispered.
He shook his head once. “No. I’m telling you the truth.”
And somehow, she believed him. When she didn’t move, he turned, walking back toward the cabin without looking to see if she followed. The distance between them grew with each step, the moonlight painting him in silver as he moved easily over the uneven ground.
She stood there for a long moment, her breath clouding faintly in the air. Then reluctantly, she went after him.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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