The night after the battle was quiet, too quiet.
The air, thick with the scent of blood and sweat, seemed to weigh heavily on Claire's chest, even as the cool breeze from the forest outside tried to push it away. She sat near the fire, its glow flickering against the walls of the small cabin, casting long shadows that danced in time with her thoughts. Lucian was outside, standing guard—still vigilant, still ever watchful, even after the ferocity of the fight.
Claire could hear the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind, the distant cry of an owl, but there was nothing that felt like peace. She had seen things—had done things—that would haunt her for the rest of her life. The fight had been brutal. The pack, led by a fierce alpha with red eyes that gleamed like fire, had come at them in full force, clawing and biting, relentless in their pursuit. But they had fought back, with everything they had, and now... now they were left to pick up the pieces.
She touched the cut on her arm, a deep gash that had been hastily bandaged with strips of cloth Lucian had found in the cabin. The wound throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the ache in her chest. That fight—those moments when she'd been forced to strike, to hurt—were etched into her soul. She hadn't expected the violence to feel like this. It wasn't just the blood, the grunts of pain, the primal sound of claws tearing through flesh. It was the weight of taking a life. The knowledge that, in that moment, she had been the one to decide who lived and who died.
A soft footstep behind her broke her reverie. Lucian stepped into the cabin, his eyes scanning the room before landing on her. His expression was unreadable, but his lips were tight, as if he were holding something back.
"Claire," he said, his voice a low rumble. "How are you holding up?"
She didn't turn to face him immediately. She didn't want to look into his eyes right now, didn't want him to see the guilt, the uncertainty that clung to her like a second skin. "I'm fine," she said, her voice hoarse. "It's just a scratch."
"Don't lie to me." He was standing behind her now, his presence as solid and steady as a mountain. "You're not fine, and you don't have to pretend to be."
She stood, her eyes meeting his for the first time. There was concern in them, but there was something more—something darker, something that had changed since the fight.
"I'm not pretending," she said softly. "But I don't know how to be… anything else."
Lucian sighed, stepping closer, his hand brushing against her arm gently, sending a shiver down her spine. "You don't have to be anything else. You're allowed to feel however you feel. But you can't carry this weight alone."
His words were simple, yet they sank deep into her heart. Claire had never been one to share her emotions, to expose the rawness inside her. She'd spent most of her life locking it all away, hiding her fears, her pain, behind the mask of a confident, capable person. But with Lucian, it was different. She didn't need to hide. Not with him. And yet, she still didn't know how to open up.
"I don't want to be weak," she whispered, her voice breaking as she tried to control the emotions threatening to spill out.
"You're not weak, Claire," Lucian said, his tone firm, almost protective. "You're stronger than you know. But even the strongest among us have moments of doubt, moments when the burden feels too heavy. And that's when you have to lean on someone else."
She wanted to argue, to say that she didn't need anyone, that she could do this on her own. But she couldn't. Not anymore. She needed him. And she hated herself for it.
"Lucian," she began, her voice trembling. "I killed them. I killed people today. I didn't have a choice, but it still feels wrong. It feels like I've lost something inside of me that I'll never get back."
His expression softened, and he reached out, pulling her into a quiet embrace. The heat of his body surrounded her, offering her a sense of safety, of comfort, that she hadn't known she could crave.
"I've killed, too," he said, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. "More times than I can count. It's not something you ever get used to. It doesn't make it right. But sometimes survival means doing things you wish you didn't have to."
She held onto him, allowing the warmth of his presence to seep into her bones. She didn't know how long they stood there, just holding each other, but it was enough. It was more than enough.
Finally, Lucian pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting hers with a sincerity that left her breathless. "You did what you had to do. Don't carry that guilt. It's not yours to bear."
For a moment, Claire just stared at him, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts. She was terrified of losing him, terrified of what would happen next, but there was something undeniable between them—a connection, a bond—that she couldn't ignore.
"Thank you," she whispered, her throat tight. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
Lucian's lips curved into a small smile, a rare expression of warmth that made her heart flutter. "You won't have to find out. I'm not going anywhere."
The words hung in the air between them, and for a moment, the world outside didn't seem so threatening. The tension, the fear, the uncertainty of their situation—it all faded into the background as they stood there, together, in the quiet.
But the peace was fleeting.
A sharp howl sliced through the night, followed by another, and another. The wolves were calling, their voices sharp and feral, echoing through the trees. The call of the pack.
Claire's stomach tightened. It was them. The Broken Fang pack was regrouping.
"We're not done yet," Lucian said, his voice grim, his hands already moving to his weapons.
She nodded, pushing aside the fear, the weariness that threatened to consume her. She was a part of this now. There was no going back. Not for her. Not for him.
"I'm with you," Claire said, her voice steady, her resolve hardening. "We'll fight this together."
Lucian paused for a moment, looking at her, his gaze softer than before. Then, with a quiet nod, he turned toward the door.
"Let's go," he said.
And together, they stepped into the night.