Chapter 25

twenty-five

I stumbled through the dense underbrush, my legs burning with each step. Grayson moved ahead of me, his massive form cutting a path through the foliage. The industrial site faded behind us, but the memory of our encounter with Cain lingered like a fresh wound.

We emerged into a moonlit clearing, and I doubled over, gasping for air. My hands were slick with blood—mine or Grayson's, I couldn't tell anymore. The silver light cast long shadows across the grass, transforming Grayson's mask into something otherworldly and terrifying.

As my breathing slowed, the questions that had been gnawing at me since our escape finally burst forth. "Why did he stop?" I asked, my voice raw and hoarse.

Grayson's entire body went rigid. He turned to face me, his eyes blazing behind the mask. For a moment, I thought he might actually speak. His chest heaved, and I could almost see the words forming, struggling to break free. But then, like a door slamming shut, he retreated into silence once more.

I replayed every moment of the fight in excruciating detail. Cain's words echoed in my head: "Not yet." A chill ran down my spine as I realized there had been no external trigger for Cain to back off—no sound, no scent, nothing visible .

Which could only mean one thing.

"It's me," I whispered, horror creeping into my voice. "Cain was watching me more than you during the fight. He was waiting for something."

Grayson's head snapped towards me, his attention laser focused.

"That's why he stopped," I continued, the pieces falling into place. "It's not that he couldn't kill you. It's that he wasn't allowed to. Not until…"

I couldn't finish the sentence, but I didn't need to. Not until I completed my transformation.

Grayson's entire demeanor shifted. He stalked towards me, his movements predatory and intense. His hands gripped my arms, fingers digging into my skin as he inspected every inch of me. It was as if he was searching for something—some visible sign of the change we both knew was happening.

As his hands roamed over my body, I felt a surge of... something. Power? Energy? It rose beneath my skin like a dark tide, making my nerve endings sing. Grayson must have felt it too because he let out a low, rumbling growl that sent shivers down my spine.

His eyes never left mine, and in them, I saw a swirling mix of emotions—hunger, fear, and something that looked almost like awe . He sensed the change in me, the growing power that even I didn't fully understand.

And then it hit me—Cain's hesitation had nothing to do with mercy. It was hunger, pure and simple. A hunger to claim me once I was fully transformed.

Grayson's grip tightened, and I winced. "You're hurting me," I said, but my voice lacked conviction. The pain felt… different now. Almost electric .

He released me abruptly, taking a step back. His chest heaved with rapid breaths, and I could practically feel the tension radiating off him in waves.

I rubbed my arms where his fingers had left marks, watching as they faded far too quickly. "What's happening to me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Grayson tilted his head, studying me with an intensity that made me nauseous. He reached out slowly, his fingertips brushing against my cheek. The touch sent a jolt through my system, like a live wire connecting us.

I gasped, stumbling backward. The surge of energy left me dizzy, my vision blurring at the edges. When I looked up, Grayson was closer, looming over me. His mask gleamed in the moonlight, but for a moment, I swore I could see through it—see the conflict raging in his eyes.

"We need to keep moving," I said, trying to shake off the strange sensations coursing through my body. "Cain could still be out there."

Grayson nodded, but he made no move to lead the way. Instead, he circled me slowly, his gaze never leaving my form. It was as if he was seeing me for the first time, cataloging every change, no matter how small.

I felt exposed under his scrutiny, but not in the way I expected. There was a thrill to it, a dark excitement that I couldn't quite explain. Part of me still wanted to run, to hide from whatever was happening. But another part—a part that was growing stronger by the second—wanted to embrace it.

The silence of the clearing was broken by a distant howl. Grayson's head snapped towards the sound, his body tensing for a fight. I found myself moving closer to him, drawn by some primal instinct I didn't understand.

As we stood there, poised on the edge of something I couldn't name, I realized that our relationship had shifted. The lines between predator and prey, between victim and tormentor, were blurring . Whatever I was becoming, whatever power was growing inside me, it was changing everything .