39. 38

38

Serina

T he woods were a living, breathing thing, their shadows dancing like wraiths in the moonlight.

I slipped between the trees, my senses casting out like nets into the darkness. I could hear the rustle of leaves underfoot from creatures scuttling away, the distant hoot of an owl claiming its territory.

But beneath the symphony of the woods, there were other sounds—the soft tread of hunters, my hunters—Bastian, Nox, and Thorne.

They were shadows themselves, coming for me .

Nox, the most unpredictable of the three, was somewhere close. I could feel it. Lost in this heightened awareness, I became the predator, anticipating the strike before it happened.

As if on cue, a twig snapped—a careless footstep, or was it deliberate bait for me? Either way, it was too close for comfort.

Without a moment's hesitation, I lunged, my body moving with preternatural speed. Nox emerged from the underbrush, his dark eyes flashing with challenge. He threw a punch towards me, a blur of motion meant to connect with lethal force. But I was faster, my movements a dance of death learned through countless such encounters.

Ducking under his arm, I spun around him, my hand swiftly locating the wooden stake at my belt.

Before Nox could react, I had him pinned against the tree, the stake impaling him through the stomach and anchoring him to the bark. His face registered shock, then a twisted sort of respect.

“Dead,” I declared, my voice devoid of triumph. In another life, that stake would have pierced his heart, ending him.

“Nice moves,” he grunted, the corners of his mouth lifting in a pained smirk.

The realization of what I had done to Nox, how deep the stake had buried into his flesh, sent a pang through my chest.

They were still poisoning themselves.

My fingers trembled as they cradled his face, the cool of his skin under my touch bringing me back from the abyss of my own ferocity. “I-I'm sorry, I wasn’t thinking—”

“Shhh,” he interrupted with a wet-sounding chuckle, blood tinging his grin. “I've always liked you stabby, little monster. ” His gaze shifted beyond me, a silent warning. “But there's still two more you have to deal with, so I would run,” he said, nodding over my shoulder.

I bolted without looking back, the night air whipping past me in a blur. Vampire speeds were exhilarating, the world being reduced to streaks of color and sound. Yet, even amidst the rush, I could feel them—their presence pressing close on my heels, phantoms I couldn't shake.

In an instant, I found the nearest tree, my feet finding purchase against the rough bark. With a forceful push, I launched myself up and flipped off the branch, gravity relinquishing its hold for a precious second before I descended on them.

They hadn't expected the maneuver, and their surprise made a smile curve my lips. I landed squarely on Thorne, my legs straddling his hips as I pinned him down.

The forest floor yielded beneath us, a bed of leaves and earth conforming to our struggle. I held the stake poised above his heart.

“Dead,” I whispered, the word barely leaving my lips.

A shiver coursed through me, electric and undeniable. It was the thrill of the hunt, the intoxication of power.

But it was also him—Thorne, whose throat worked a swallow as his eyes roamed down the length of my body. There was something raw and primal in the way he looked at me, a hunger that wasn't merely for blood but for me .

For a heartbeat, we were frozen in time, locked in an embrace that was as intimate as it was deadly.

Then, reality snapped back. This was training. I rolled off him, my mind already racing ahead to Bastian, the only one left.

The instant my focus wavered, Bastian was on me.

His arms were steel traps locking mine behind my back, his body a barricade pressing me to the rough embrace of a tree. I felt the bark graze my cheek, leaving behind a sting of pain.

“They will not be kind to you, love. They will not be easy on you, so neither will I,” he growled, his voice laced with an edge.

“Good.” My reply came out more grunt than word as I thrusted my head back hard into his face. The impact jarred through my skull, but it bought me precious space.

With a twist and a drop, I executed the splits, then slid deftly between his legs—my arm cracking in a way nature never intended. I swallowed down the scream that threatened to claw its way out.

In the next breath, my broken limb snapped back into place, the searing pain receding as if it were nothing more than a bad dream.

There we were, now the roles were reversed. Bastian's back against the tree, my hand driving the stake into him.

“Dead,” I hissed through clenched teeth, feeling the wretched twist in my gut at the thought of truly killing him.

I yanked the stake out, and Bastian swiveled with that bloody grin of his playing on his lips. His nose had already started to heal, the blood staining his skin.

“I'm ready,” I declared, my gaze locking onto Bastian's. My attention drifted past him, catching Nox and Thorne exchanging knowing smirks.

“Breaking your own bones mid-fight now. Gods, love.” Bastian shook his head, his eyes betraying a flicker of concern amidst the pride. Immortality suited me in ways that still left him reeling, it seemed. “But then again, you've swept the board clean every round today… so yeah, I think you’re ready.”

His smile was one of pure, unabashed pride. I felt it wrap around me, warmer than any cloak, as he pulled me into his arms. The kiss he dropped on my head was tender.

“Let's go home,” he murmured against my hair, his voice a low rumble I felt in my very bones. “We'll plot out our next step… and then, Serina, we end him. Together.”