The Fire We Feed

The forest swallowed them whole.

Taryn had spent enough time tracking creatures through hostile terrain to know when a place was wrong. The deeper they went, the more the woods pressed in—silent and watchful. Shadows tangled in the underbrush, and the air grew thick with a damp cold that gnawed at her skin. Like something dangerous lurked ahead, just beyond sight.

She tightened her grip on the leather strap of her pack, scanning the narrow trail for any sign of movement. This wasn't the kind of forest that welcomed visitors.

Lucien moved quietly beside her, a silent shadow draped in black. Even the branches didn't seem to crack under his weight, as though the forest itself was bending to accommodate him.

"So, what's the plan?" Lucien asked, his voice barely more than a murmur in the early morning air.

Taryn shot him a sideways glance. "You stay out of my way. I kill the thing. Simple."

Lucien hummed thoughtfully. "Efficient. But not very collaborative, is it?"

She rolled her eyes and quickened her pace, hoping he'd take the hint and fall behind. He didn't. 

"You know," he mused, brushing a low branch out of his path with infuriating ease, "for someone stuck with a partner, you seem awfully determined to act like you're alone."

"Because I prefer being alone," Taryn muttered, keeping her eyes trained on the approaching trail.

Lucien chuckled, the sound low and amused. "Clearly."

She resisted the urge to snap at him, focusing instead on the trees ahead. They were close—she could feel it. The air had shifted, thick with the promise of violence.

A sudden snap of a branch made her freeze, her hand instinctively going to the hilt of the knife strapped to her belt.

Lucien stopped beside her, his posture loose but alert. "Hear that?"

"Shh," Taryn hissed, scanning the forest around them. But the sound was gone, swallowed by the heavy silence that pressed in from all sides.

Lucien leaned in slightly, his voice a whisper. "So… that's a no on the teamwork, then?"

Taryn shot him a glare. "Do you ever shut up?"

"Not when I'm having this much fun." Lucien grinned, all teeth and dangerous charm.

She exhaled sharply through her nose and turned her attention back to the trail. Whatever creature they were hunting was close, and she didn't have time to babysit an arrogant vampire with a flair for bad jokes.

Lucien, however, seemed perfectly content to keep pushing her buttons.

"You know," he continued, his tone casual, "I think I figured you out."

Taryn gritted her teeth. "Doubt it."

"Oh, but I have." He sidled a little closer, matching her pace with frustrating ease. "You act tough—like you don't care. But deep down, you're just scared someone might actually like you."

Taryn stopped abruptly, spinning to face him. "Do you ever stop?"

Lucien grinned, unbothered by the anger in her voice. "Not when it's this easy."

She turned back to the trail with a muttered curse, ignoring the way his chuckle slid under her skin like a burr.

The trail narrowed, and Taryn could feel the forest shifting around them—closing in, pressing tighter, as if it could sense what they were hunting. The shadows grew longer, darker. And with every step they took, the sense of something waiting—watching—only grew stronger.

Lucien, to his credit, stayed quiet for a while. But the silence between them was heavy, charged with the unspoken challenge hanging in the air: how long could they survive like this without one of them snapping?

As if sensing her thoughts, Lucien leaned in slightly, his voice a low murmur. "Relax, warrior. I'll try not to die on you."

Taryn rolled her eyes. "Try less."

He grinned, clearly enjoying himself far too much. But before she could snap at him again, something flickered at the edge of her vision—movement in the shadows.

She froze, hand dropping to her knife. "Did you see that?"

Lucien stilled beside her, his silver eyes narrowing as he scanned the dark. "I did."

For once, the smugness was gone from his voice, replaced by something sharper. Something dangerous.

They crouched low, their footsteps silent against the forest floor. Taryn's heart pounded against her ribs as she strained to hear anything—any sign of the creature they were hunting.

Then the first arrow flew.

It hissed through the air with a deadly whisper, a sleek blur slicing the silence in half.

Taryn's instincts roared to life. In a flash, she ran—grabbing Lucien's coat and yanking him forward with her just as the arrow sailed through the space where his head had been. It slammed into a tree with a heavy thunk, quivering in the bark.

Lucien hit the ground beside her, his reflexes fluid despite the sudden movement. His hand caught her wrist on instinct, his grip warm and unyielding for just a heartbeat before he released her.

"Ambush," Taryn hissed, already drawing her dagger in one smooth, practiced motion.

Lucien crouched low beside her, his expression flickering from amused to alert in the space of a breath. The playful edge in his silver eyes sharpened to something dangerous. "I noticed."

The second arrow came faster—then a third. A storm of footsteps followed, rustling through the underbrush.

Taryn's heart slammed against her ribs as figures materialized from the shadows—six, maybe more, their faces hidden beneath dark hoods. They moved fast and deliberate, weapons glinting under the dim light.

"Rogue hunters," Lucien growled, his voice a low snarl.

"Damn it." Taryn's grip tightened on her dagger, her breath sharp and steady despite the chaos brewing around them. "You make friends everywhere you go, or is it just me?"

Lucien's grin returned, wicked and dangerous. He shifted closer, his body brushing hers in a way that made her nerves spark. "Admit it," he murmured, his voice dropping to a low hum. He was too close, his breath warm against her ear. "You'd miss me if I died."

Taryn's lips twitched—half snarl, half grin—before she pushed him back with a shove. "Not if you get me killed first."

Then the hunters surged forward.

Taryn sprang into action, her dagger a flash of silver as she ducked low, twisting beneath the first attacker's swing. She slashed upward, her blade biting into the man's ribs with brutal precision. He collapsed with a gurgled cry, and Taryn was already moving—silent, efficient, deadly.

Beside her, Lucien was a blur of shadows and sharp edges. His movements were too smooth, too precise—as if the fight was just a game to him. He danced through the hunters, fangs gleaming as he struck with effortless grace. Every kill looked like an afterthought.

A hunter lunged toward Taryn, swinging a heavy blade. She blocked the blow, steel screaming against steel, the impact jarring through her arm. The fight was chaotic, messy—a whirl of bodies and weapons and snarled curses.

Taryn felt the pull of the forest around them, tightening like a trap, every shadow hiding more threats. The hunters came in waves, relentless.

She twisted under another swing, slamming her dagger into the side of a hunter's neck. Warm blood splattered against her skin, and the man crumpled, lifeless.

"Nice move," Lucien murmured, grinning like they were at a party.

"Focus!" she snapped, pivoting to block another attacker.

The hunters kept coming.

A figure moved behind her—a blur of motion, too fast to track.

Taryn spun, but she was too late. A rough hand closed around her wrist, yanking her backward with brutal force.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stumbled, off-balance, her dagger slipping from her fingers.

"Taryn!" Lucien's voice was sharp, jagged with something that sounded too close to panic.

She tried to wrench free, but the hunter's grip was iron, his fingers digging painfully into her skin. A flash of metal glinted at the edge of her vision—

Then everything went black.