The city was silent, but every alley breathed danger. The echo of our footsteps blended with the rain falling in thin curtains, striking the cobblestones and dragging with it a metallic scent that reminded me there was no escape from those who wanted to hurt us. Every shadow seemed to stretch until it touched me, every crack in the walls whispered secrets my mind did not want to hear, and every reflection in the puddles appeared to hold unblinking eyes watching me. The dampness clung to my skin, heavy and sticky, reminding me that I was alive—yes—but also exposed.
Lysander walked ahead, always one step faster, always calculating every shadow, every movement, every whisper of the wind. His silhouette seemed to rise from the darkness itself, as if the night bent to his will and shielded him from what stalked us. I followed him, feeling that with every passing second I was drifting farther from the girl I once was—the one who trusted too much and feared too much—and closer to someone who could fight… or at least survive. With every breath, my chest filled with a mixture of fear and determination; each drop of rain seemed to push me forward, toward a place where decisions were no longer optional, where every moment could mean the difference between running and falling, between living and disappearing. And as we moved, an invisible thread tightened between us—a silent bond forged of shared danger, awakened instincts, and a tacit understanding: I could not trust him completely, but I also could not afford to lose him.
"Zara," he said, stopping at a crossroads and lowering his voice. "Listen carefully. Every enemy following us believes they have the advantage. They don't. They don't know who you are… nor who I am when I have to protect you."
I nodded, and my pulse quickened. There was something in his gaze that told me he meant every word, and it wasn't only the threat of his claws or his strength. It was the certainty that he was willing to do anything—even break the rules of the world—to keep me safe. Every muscle in his body looked tense, prepared for any possibility, yet strangely controlled, as if fury and patience coexisted in an equilibrium impossible to shatter. I felt a strange heat travel up my spine, a live wire reminding me that I stood on the edge of something greater than fear: respect, fascination, and something I couldn't name without stumbling. His presence filled the space not only with danger, but with a silent force that forced me to recognize my own fragility and, at the same time, a spark of strength I didn't know I possessed. Every word he spoke, every gesture he made, was proof that he was willing to defy everything we knew—and I understood, with a vertigo that made me tremble, that his determination could save me… or drag me into the abyss.
"What if they catch me?" I asked, even though I knew the answer was obvious.
"They won't," he said, turning just long enough to glance at me. "Because I won't let them. But you have to learn to move with me. Every decision, every step… matters."
We moved on in silence until we reached an abandoned building. Its brick walls were covered in graffiti, and the floor smelled of dampness and neglect. It was the kind of place no one would visit unless they were looking for trouble. And here, Lysander seemed at ease. His steps were steady, his senses alert, and every time someone drew near, his eyes lit with that amber glint that reminded me he could devour the world… or protect me from it.
"We'll be safe here, at least for now," he said, pointing to a room at the back, barely illuminated by a beam of light slipping through the broken roof.
I slid down against the wall, trying to catch my breath. My heart was still pounding, but there was something else now—a new emotion, a blend of fear and adrenaline I had never felt before. Every time Lysander turned toward me, every time his presence filled the room, I felt as if time itself slowed.
"Zara," he said suddenly, his voice lower, closer. "I want you to understand something. This isn't just a hunt. It's our opportunity. Not only to survive… but to make everyone who betrayed us pay."
I couldn't help looking at him, and this time my words came out firmer than I expected.
"I don't just want to survive. I want to be able to face all of this… with you."
His eyes gleamed, and for a moment the alpha who devoured enemies vanished, leaving only the man who understood my fear, my doubts, and my strength.
"Then you will learn," he said. "And when the time comes, they will understand that you are not someone who can simply be caught or manipulated. You are someone who demands respect… and who can claim it."
A noise behind the door made me turn. Lysander reacted instantly, claws flashing for a heartbeat, and the tension in the air became almost tangible. But instead of an enemy, it was a package slid through the gap: documents, photographs, a message.
I opened it with trembling hands. Every image and every word revealed truths I had ignored until now—betrayals, plans, secrets that involved me long before I was even capable of understanding them.
"This," I said, lifting my gaze to him. "This changes everything."
"Yes," he replied, his voice calm and grave. "And now you know you can trust no one but us. No one. Not even those you believed were protecting you."
The rain continued to pound against the rooftops, a constant drumming that seemed to mark the beginning of something greater. Something that would test not only our strength, but our loyalty, our intelligence… and our hearts.
"Then the hunt begins," I said, and this time my eyes did not waver. "And this time, I won't run."
Lysander smiled, and for the first time, his smile was neither threat nor warning. It was complicity—a silent pact that we would fight together.
"Good," he said, extending his hand. "Then let's begin."
And as we crossed through the city's shadows, I knew what lay ahead would not be merely a battle of strength, but a game of cunning, betrayal, and desire. And in that game, no one would defeat us… because now, we were one.