Chapter Thirty-six

Blood and Shadows

The forest swallowed us whole.

Branches tore at my arms as I ran, Louis’s limp body heavy in my grip. My breath came ragged, blood warm on my skin, the metallic scent thick in the air. The shadows flickered weakly around me, barely holding. Every step burned.

“Almost there,” I whispered, though my vision swam. “Just a little farther, Louis.”

He didn’t answer, only groaned faintly, his head lolling against my shoulder. His blood had soaked through my tunic, cold and sticky, but his pulse still beat — slow, fragile, alive.

When my knees finally buckled, I collapsed against a tree. The forest spun. The shadows that had once roared like a storm now trembled, weak and unsteady.

Then, through the blur of pain and moonlight — a ripple. A familiar scent.

Lucien.

He appeared out of the darkness without sound, shadows coiling around him like a second skin. His eyes blazed with fury the moment they landed on me.

“So you went,” he said, voice low and cold. “Straight into the wolf’s jaws.”

I tried to speak, but my throat was dry. “He… he had Louis…”

Lucien’s jaw clenched. He knelt beside me, his movements sharp, deliberate. His hands hovered over the wounds on my arm before he cursed under his breath. “You’re bleeding out.”

“I’m fine,” I rasped, trying to push myself up. My legs refused to move.

Lucien caught my wrist, forcing me still. “You are not fine,” he snapped. “You disobeyed me. You risked everything—for him.” His gaze flicked to Louis, unconscious beside me. “You think Derrick will stop now? You’ve just painted a target on your back with your own blood.”

My lips curled weakly. “He was already hunting me. At least this time, I hit back.”

Lucien’s expression shifted — the faintest flicker of reluctant admiration beneath the anger. He pressed a hand to my shoulder, and his shadows seeped into my skin, cool and burning at once. The pain dulled immediately, though exhaustion settled deeper into my bones.

“What are you doing?” I asked softly.

“Healing you,” he muttered. “Or trying to. You’ve drained yourself nearly to death.”

His magic flowed through me, dark and steady, threading through the cracks in my strength. It wasn’t gentle — it was fierce, demanding, almost angry — but it held me together.

I met his eyes, the flickering silver of my wolf reflecting in the black depths of his. “You came after all.”

Lucien’s lips tightened. “You’re not my responsibility.”

I managed a weak smile. “And yet, here you are.”

Something unreadable passed through his expression — irritation, guilt, maybe something darker. “You’re a fool, Kimberly Moonstone,” he said quietly. “A stubborn, reckless fool.”

“Maybe,” I whispered. “But I saved him.”

Lucien’s gaze drifted to Louis again. “He’ll live, if the fever doesn’t take him.” He stood, extending a hand toward me. “Come. You can rest at the ridge.”

I hesitated, staring at his hand. The last of my pride whispered to resist, but my strength was gone. I took it.

His grip was firm, his shadows wrapping gently around my waist to steady me as we walked. The silence between us stretched, heavy and strange.

When we reached the ridge, the night had deepened — stars scattered across the sky like shards of glass. Lucien laid Louis against a smooth stone and turned to me.

“Why did you really go back?” he asked finally, his tone quieter now.

I met his gaze, my voice barely above a whisper. “Because I couldn’t lose anyone else.”

He studied me for a long moment. Then, in a rare softness, he said, “You can’t save everyone. Some must burn for others to live.”

I looked away, the ache in my chest deepening. “Then let me burn.”

Lucien’s expression darkened — anger, or pain, or both. His hand brushed the edge of my jaw, his touch cold but careful.

“You already are,” he murmured.

The shadows around us stilled, listening to the quiet beat of our hearts. For the first time since the war began, there was no hatred in his eyes — only something haunted and dangerous that I couldn’t name.

Then his expression hardened again. “Sleep, Kimberly. You’ll need strength. Derrick won’t forgive humiliation.”

I nodded weakly, lowering myself beside Louis. The shadows curled around us like a dark blanket, the world fading at the edges.

As my eyes closed, I heard Lucien’s voice again — softer this time, almost to himself.

“She’s not ready to face him,” he whispered. “But soon… she will be.”

And in that final flicker of consciousness, I realized something that made my pulse quicken — Lucien wasn’t just training me to survive Derrick.

He was preparing me to surpass him.

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