The hunters' footsteps echoed through the abandoned house like a slow, deliberate heartbeat. Each scrape of metal against wood made my skin prickle, every shadow seem alive. Travis pressed against me instinctively, his arm circling my waist as we crouched behind the broken counter.
"Quiet," he whispered, voice low, teasing even in danger. "Unless you want to audition for the role of 'Dinner for Hunters.'"
I scowled, gripping my knife tightly. "Very funny. You're lucky you're distracting me from panicking."
He leaned close, brushing damp strands of hair from my face. "Distracting? Or charming? You tell me."
I narrowed my eyes, half amused, half terrified. "Not now."
The hunters were methodical. Their shadows stretched long across the floorboards, silhouettes sharp in the moonlight pouring through broken windows. One stepped closer, the glint of a blade catching the dim light.
Travis's fingers found mine, squeezing tightly. "We've got this," he whispered. "We've handled worse."
I swallowed, nodding. We had survived ambushes, foggy bridges, and rumors of weapons meant to end all of us. But this—hunters inside the same room—felt more immediate, more visceral.
"Follow my lead," Travis murmured, eyes scanning the intruders. "We're improvising."
He ducked to the side, and I followed, moving like shadows, silent and deliberate. Every step was calculated, every breath measured. One hunter turned, glancing in our direction, but Travis's grin and a well-thrown bottle distracted him just long enough.
"Nice," I murmured, impressed despite the terror.
"Flattery in the face of danger? You really know how to keep me motivated," he replied, flashing that infuriating smirk.
We navigated the house, using shadows and broken furniture as cover, moving toward the back door that led to the alley. My heart hammered, adrenaline spiking, yet the brush of Travis's hand against mine sent heat coursing through me, reminding me of what we were fighting for—and why it mattered.
"Ready?" he asked, leaning close so his lips brushed my ear. "Because once we're out, it's all on the line."
I nodded, voice barely audible. "Ready."
We burst through the back door, the cold night air hitting us like a slap. Fog hugged the ground, masking our escape, but the hunters weren't far behind. The clatter of boots on gravel chased us, relentless, unyielding.
Travis grabbed my hand, pulling me into a sprint. "After you, dramatic princess!" he shouted over the noise.
I laughed breathlessly despite the danger. "You're insane!"
"Possibly," he said, glancing back at me with a grin. "But effective. And adorable under pressure."
We dove into the fog, using every instinct to navigate the twisting alleys and broken streets. Every corner could be our end—or our salvation.
At one point, he grabbed me, pressing me against a wall as a hunter's flashlight swept past. My pulse thrummed in my ears. He pressed a kiss to my temple, whispering, "Alive, remember? Alive together."
I shivered, both from the cold and from the intimacy, the reminder that we weren't just surviving—we were tethered to each other in the chaos.
The hunters spread out, splitting their search, but we used the fog, the debris, and our knowledge of the streets to slip past them. At a narrow alley, Travis stopped, pressing his back against the wall, pulling me close.
"Breath," he whispered, tilting my chin up. "Feel me. Remember this. Whatever happens, you're not alone."
I leaned against him, inhaling, heart racing. "Not alone," I echoed.
He brushed a kiss against my lips, soft but firm. Fingers tangled in my hair, hand pressed to the small of my back. The fog curled around us, a silent witness to the stolen intimacy. A heartbeat later, we were moving again, silent shadows in the night, hunted yet unbroken.
We reached a side street with broken streetlights flickering weakly. Our pace slowed, careful, but the tension never left. Every sound could signal danger.
Then, a low, metallic scrape echoed nearby—another hunter, closer this time. My hand went to my knife instinctively.
"Split?" Travis whispered, voice tight. "Or stay together?"
"Together," I said without hesitation.
His grin was brief, eyes blazing. "Good choice. Always the dramatic princess."
We moved in sync, covering each other, every brush of our hands reminding me that our bond had deepened into something fierce, something I couldn't ignore. Every stolen touch, every glance, every whispered joke in the midst of chaos made the danger sweeter, more urgent.
Ahead, a dumpster and a stack of crates provided temporary cover. We crouched behind them, breathing hard, eyes scanning. The hunter moved past, unaware. My chest heaved, adrenaline coursing through me.
Travis pressed close again, brushing his lips to my temple, whispering, "We're good. For now. But not forever."
I felt the weight of his words, a subtle warning beneath the intimacy. The hunters were relentless, and the rumors of their weapon weren't just whispers anymore—they were real, imminent.
Suddenly, a sound from the corner of the alley made both of us freeze. Low, deliberate, and unnervingly precise—another hunter. Not following the expected path. Watching. Waiting.
Travis's hand tightened on mine. "They're smarter than we thought," he muttered, voice tense.
I glanced at him, pulse hammering. "And faster," I said.
A shadow moved in the fog, just out of reach, and my stomach dropped. The hunters had found the alley, and we were cornered.
Travis pressed a finger to my lips. "Stay calm. Follow me."
But as we prepared to move again, a second figure emerged from the fog—a hunter we hadn't anticipated, blocking the only path forward. The first hunter closed in from the other side.
I backed against Travis, heart racing, knife ready. Every instinct screamed fight or flight.
Travis leaned close, whispering urgently, "No matter what… we survive. Together."
The fog thickened, shadows stretching. Hunters on both sides. Our escape narrowing.
And in that instant, I realized: for the first time, we might not be able to slip away.