She slips out of my grip and simply asks, “Or what?”
“I’ll lock you in your room. Don’t test me.”
Avilyna snarls right in my face, fearless as ever. “I’d like to see you try.”
I step closer, the heat rising between us.“You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”
She smirks, eyes glinting with challenge. “Good. Someone needs to teach you a lesson.” Before I can snap back, the alarm on my watch blares, loud and urgent, cutting through the moment. A reminder that whatever this is between us, it can wait.
“You stay here, it’s not up for debate,” I order firmly.
To my surprise, Vi doesn’t argue. She crosses her arms and stares, annoyed, mixed with something else.
We head to the garage.Plenty to choose from, sleek bikes lined up in perfect formation, a few cars gleaming under the flicker of candlelight, and across the yard, the stables for those who still prefer hooves over horsepower.
No one questions the presence of mundane tech anymore. It’s rare, collectible, and more of a luxury hobby. The other patrols rely on vehicles left at specific safe houses on the other side of the veil. That’s what we’re supposed to do, but rules have never been the Bloodhowl Unit’s strong suit.
Wyll steps up to his bike and whispers to the runes etched into the handlebars. I mirror the motion, a soft pulse of light ripples across the metal, and the engines fall instantly silent. Magic thrums beneath the frame, quiet, invisible, we’re ghosts in the night.
By the time we reach the breach, the world is hushed. Trees stand frozen, the air thick with expectation, as if the woods themselves are holding their breath. Wyll and I step toward the veil, prepared to open it. Caleb and Nalaka stay back; unable to activate mundane portals, no bloodline connection, which means no access. The reason why they each carry a blood vial, a failsafe to keep them from getting trapped on the wrong side. Just as I lift my hand, a pull slices through the underbrush, a presence, one I’ll recognize anywhere. Tires crunch against gravel, another engine glows, before coming to a halt. The runes are dying as the engine starts to cool down.
My jaw tightens.
No, she did not.
“Oh, she’s in so much trouble,” Wyll mutters beside me.
He knows better than to smile right now. Avilyna pulls up beside the others and swings off the bike in one fluid motion. She slides off her helmet, letting her curls tumble free. The black bandana stays on, masking everything but her sharp eyes, unreadable. For someone who has just learned how to manoeuvre a bike, she looks way too at ease. I knew teaching her would be a mistake, and she knew exactly what she was doing. I storm toward her, fury radiating with every step.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I snap, barely keeping my voice steady.
“Coming with you,” Avilyna says, calm as if I never gave the order to stay put.
“You’re not.”
“I am.” She steps in close, chin high, eyes daring.
“You can waste time arguing, but if you leave me behind, I’ll cross over on my own.” Her voice is a quiet challenge, unshaken, defiant. One perfect eyebrow lifts, daring me to stop her. My pulse drums loud and fast. She’s reckless, wild. Exactly what I can’t afford and exactly what I can’t resist.
Goddamn her.
“Fine,” I grind out, motioning her forward. As she brushes past, I step in close, my voice dropping like a blade to her ear. “You don’t engage unless your life depends on it. Am. I. Clear?”
Avilyna rolls her pretty green eyes but freezes, muttering under her breath, “Yeah, yeah... I know.”
I shake my head, a grin tugging at the corner of my mouth, “Gonna be the death of me...”
Stepping forward, I draw the blade from my waist, slicing my palm to activate the runes. The magic flares up, weaving into a thread of light. The door bursts open, unleashing chaos as norous swarm from all sides. There's no choice but to charge headfirst into battle.
No second-guessing, I start clearing a path, taking down as many demons as I can. Lighting up the runes on my weapons to burn them out of this place. Nothing really kills them, but at least with the incantation, these bastards get shoved back to Netherworld, only to crawl back out later for round two. Hell doesn’t wait for you to kick the bucket to start screwing with you. It hunts you long before your last breath.
I empty my guns first. My real strength being close combat, with two daggers out, I start jabbing the creatures. The words on the tip of my tongue, muscle memories in, as I stab the enemies. My speed keeps my defences tight, leaving zero openings as I land deadly blows. I’ve been fighting demons all my life, whether they wear their faces like monsters, hide behind a mask, or come in the form of a father figure.
In the end, the goal’s always the same: survive.
38
Avilyna
