Chapter 4 Whispers in the Shadows

Eira awoke with a start, her heart pounding in her chest. The room was eerily quiet, the faint glow of the blood moon barely illuminating the walls. She sat up, her senses on high alert, straining to detect the source of her unease.

Something felt wrong.

Pushing aside the thin blanket, she slid off the bed and padded to the door. The main cabin was dim, the dying embers in the fireplace casting flickering shadows on the walls. Jonah was sprawled on the couch, snoring softly.

Draven was nowhere to be seen.

Eira frowned. For someone who claimed to be on watch, he wasn't doing a great job.

She stepped outside, the chill night air biting against her skin. The forest was alive with the sounds of nocturnal creatures, but there was an underlying tension that made her shiver.

"Looking for me?"

Eira whirled around, her hand instinctively reaching for the dagger at her side. Draven stepped out of the shadows, his golden eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

"Where were you?" she demanded, her voice sharper than she intended.

"Scouting," he replied, his tone calm. "The Veil Keepers are moving faster than I anticipated. They'll find this place by dawn."

Eira's stomach tightened. "Then why did we come here in the first place?"

"To buy time."

"For what?"

Draven hesitated, his gaze flickering to the cabin. "For you to decide whether you're ready to fight for your life-or keep running."

Eira clenched her fists. "You're asking me to fight a war I didn't start. I didn't ask for any of this!"

"None of us did," Draven said, his voice softening. "But it's here, whether you want it or not. The Veil Keepers won't stop. They'll hunt you until there's nothing left of you to chase."

Eira looked away, her chest tightening with anger and fear. She hated feeling powerless, hated the way her life had spiraled out of control.

"Why do you care what happens to me?" she asked after a long pause.

Draven's expression darkened. "Because I've seen what the Veil Keepers do to hybrids. I've seen the lengths they'll go to maintain their so-called balance. And because I know what it's like to be hunted."

Eira searched his face for any sign of deception but found none. For the first time, she saw something in him she hadn't noticed before-pain, raw and unspoken.

Before she could respond, a faint rustling in the trees caught her attention.

Draven tensed, his head snapping toward the sound. "Inside. Now."

Eira didn't argue. She turned and ran back into the cabin, shaking Jonah awake.

"Get up!" she hissed. "They're here."

Jonah blinked groggily, his confusion quickly giving way to fear. "What? Already?"

Draven entered the cabin, his movements swift and purposeful. He bolted the door and pulled a sword from beneath the table.

"We don't have much time," he said, his voice low but commanding. "Eira, take Jonah and head for the back exit. Follow the trail until you reach the river. I'll hold them off."

"No way," Eira said firmly. "I'm not leaving you to fight them alone."

Draven's jaw tightened. "This isn't up for debate."

"It is if you think I'm going to run while you play hero!"

The tension between them crackled like a live wire. Jonah stood awkwardly to the side, his eyes darting between them.

Before either of them could say another word, the first blow came.

The cabin door splintered under the force of an unseen attack, and the room filled with the acrid scent of magic. Draven moved instantly, shoving Eira and Jonah toward the back of the cabin.

"Go!" he roared.

The door exploded inward, and a group of Veil Keepers flooded the room. Their weapons glinted in the dim light, their movements swift and deadly.

Eira grabbed Jonah's arm and pulled him toward the back exit, her heart racing.

Draven met the hunters head-on, his sword flashing as he deflected a strike aimed at his chest. He moved like a whirlwind, his attacks precise and brutal.

But there were too many of them.

Eira hesitated at the door, torn between fleeing and staying to help. Jonah tugged on her arm.

"Eira, we have to go!"

She bit her lip, every instinct screaming at her to stay. But Draven's voice echoed in her mind: "Survival first."

Reluctantly, she turned and fled into the night, Jonah close behind her.

The forest seemed to close in around them as they ran, the blood moon casting eerie shadows on the ground. Eira's mind raced, her thoughts a chaotic jumble of fear and guilt.

Draven was still fighting.

And she had left him behind.