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Then I step past him.

For a flicker of a second, I expect resistance—his hand, his body, instinct snapping into place. I expect the old choreography: stop her, steady her, shield her from herself.

It doesn’t come. He lets me pass.

That matters more than anything he could’ve said.

The door opens. Cold night air spills across my skin, rain-slick and alive, carrying the smell of wet earth and distant rot and the promise of teeth waiting in the dark. The world out there is sharp and dangerous and very aware of me now.

Good.

I don’t look back.

I don’t need to.

Whatever I’m becoming doesn’t require permission, doesn’t wait for protection, doesn’t belong behind anyone anymore. It walks forward.

And this time? The dark makes room.

XXX

Woman Walks Ahead

Itug my hood tighter, fabric rasping against my jaw as the night slips its teeth under my collar anyway, cold and sharp and determined to find skin. The air smells like damp leaves and ironed frost, that clean, cutting scent that always makes my lungs feel too awake, like they’re bracing for something before I’ve had the chance to agree to it.

Shadow keeps pace between us, close enough that I feel the brush of his fur against my knee with every step. His head snaps back and forth, ears twitching, restless in a way that has nothing to do with the woods and everything to do with the space Malek and I are pretending isn’t cracked straight down the middle. He knows. Animals always do. They feel fractures before people ever admit they exist.

Malek moves ahead of us, broad back steady, unbothered by the extra weight strapped to him like it’s just another layer of muscle. Fifty extra pounds and not a hitch in his stride. The leather creaks softly with each step, a low, rhythmic sound that settles into the quiet of the woods. No birds. No insects. Just the hush of trees holding their breath and the soft crunch of boots against frozen ground.

Then he speaks.

“We need to take a slight detour.”

The words land wrong—too casual, too calm—and something tightens behind my ribs.

“What?” I question. “Why?”

He slows just enough to rake a hand through his hair, moonlight spilling over pale strands and catching on that single black streak like it’s been marked on purpose. It gleams, silvered and sharp, and my attention snags on it before I can stop myself, irritation tangling with something warmer and far more dangerous.

He turns.

The moon hits his face full-on, and for one unsteady step I forget where I’m placing my feet. His amber eye catches the light and for a split second—just long enough to raise the hair along my arms—I swear it glows, not bright, not supernatural, just…alive in a way that doesn’t belong to men.

“The horde moved early,” he says evenly. “I need a few things from my cabin at the Black Harvest for when we encounter them.”

When.

Not if.

The word echoes in my skull, heavy and certain, settling into place like a verdict. The woods seem to lean in closer around us, branches creaking softly as if they’re listening, as if they already know how this ends and are just waiting for us to catch up.

I don’t answer right away. The word when keeps circling, slow and predatory, scraping against the inside of my skull until my jaw aches from holding it still.

My fingers drift back to the hatchet without conscious thought, brushing the worn grip, the shallow nicks I know by heart. Certainty has always made me itch. It’s the same tone Cass used when she was already bleeding and still refused to lie down, the same tone men use right before the world proves them right at someone else’s expense. The woods feel closer now, sound swallowed whole, the cold pressing in like it wants to be part of the conversation.

“Your cabin,” I say at last, the words sitting heavy in my mouth. “You really think taking me through it is smart?” I glance at him, catch the way his posture never shifts, like he’s already locked himself into the outcome. “Or did you decide this before you opened your mouth?”

He doesn’t slow. Doesn’t look back. Just keeps moving like the ground will still be there as long as he expects it to be.