We didn't stop running until the city fell away behind us.
Oslo blurred into forest, concrete giving way to wet earth and towering pines. Santiago finally slowed near an abandoned cabin crouched beside a frozen stream.
"This will do," he said.
"It looks like a murder scene," I muttered.
He almost smiled.
Inside, the cabin smelled of smoke and pine sap. Santiago lit a lantern and set his bag down.
"Sit," he ordered.
I dropped onto a rickety chair. My hands were still shaking.
"You don't hunt blind anymore," he said. "That ends now."
"Hunt," I repeated. The word still felt poisonous.
He knelt in front of me, eyes level with mine. "Listen carefully. There are rules. Break them, and people die."
"People already die."
His jaw tightened. "More."
I swallowed.
"Rule one," he said. "You never hunt angry. Emotion pulls the wrong things across the Veil."
Kristoffer's smile flashed in my mind.
Too late.
"Rule two: you never chase without an anchor."
"What's an anchor?"
"Me," he said simply.
My chest tightened. "That's… not fair."
"It's survival."
He stood and paced. "Rule three: you never kill unless the mark has crossed fully. Half-breeds, possessed, corrupted—those are gray areas."
"Eric wasn't gray," I whispered.
Santiago stopped.
"No," he said quietly. "He wasn't."
The silence stretched between us.
"Then why did he die?" I asked.
Santiago looked at me like he was choosing every word carefully. "Because something else was riding him."
I felt sick.
Training started that night.
He taught me how to ground myself—breathing, touch, focus. How to recognize the pull of the Veil before sleep claimed me.
"The dream isn't the danger," he explained. "Losing yourself is."
I failed. Repeatedly.
Each time I slipped, shadows clawed at the edges of my vision. Once, the cabin walls flickered, turning red and warped.
Santiago grabbed my shoulders. "Eliza. Look at me."
I did.
And the world snapped back into place.
"You almost crossed," he said.
My voice broke. "I'm scared."
"I know."
For the first time since all this began, he didn't sound invincible.
I dreamed anyway.
But this time, I knew it was happening.
The Veil opened like a wound.
I stood in a street I recognized.
Bergen.
Ruth's street.
"No," I whispered.
Something moved in the shadows—long, thin, wrong.
It wore a human face.
I ran.
I woke screaming.
Santiago was already there, holding me, grounding me.
"She's alive," he said quickly. "For now."
My nails dug into his jacket. "It's hunting her."
"Yes."
"Because of me."
"Because of what you are," he corrected. "And because Kristoffer set it loose."
I pulled away, fury burning through the fear. "Then I'm ending this."
Santiago searched my face. "Ending it how?"
"I'm going to hunt while I'm awake."
The words settled between us like a challenge.
"That's forbidden," he said.
"I don't care."
He stepped closer. "If you do this, you could lose yourself completely."
"Or I could save her."
Our faces were inches apart now. I could feel his breath, steady and warm.
"You don't walk this path alone," he said softly. "If you fall, I fall with you."
Something in my chest cracked open.
"Then don't let me fall," I whispered.
His hand tightened around mine.
Far away, something screamed in the dark.
And this time—
It knew my name.