Echoes under the Moonlight

The night was cold. It felt longer than usual. Ava huddled against the rocks, pulling her knees to her chest. The forest was alive with sounds—rustling leaves, distant hoots of an owl, and the eerie whisper of the wind through the trees. Every little noise made her flinch. Her heart still pounded from the fight earlier, her body tense as if expecting another attack.

Lucien sat close by, silent but alert. His golden eyes flickered in the dim light, scanning the darkness. He hadn't said much since they stopped, but his presence alone made her feel less alone.

"They'll come back," he finally said, his voice quiet yet firm. "But we'll be ready next time."

Ava swallowed hard. "How can you be sure?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "What if they find us before I figure out this… power?" The last word came out shaky. She hated how uncertain she sounded, but she couldn't help it. The power inside her was unpredictable—sometimes strong, sometimes failing when she needed it most.

Lucien turned to her, his gaze softer now. "You're stronger than you know. They made a mistake by underestimating you." He hesitated, then added, "And I won't let them take you."

Ava's chest tightened. "Why do you care?" she asked, almost afraid of the answer.

Lucien was quiet for a moment, his jaw tightening. Then he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Because I know how it feels to be lost. To feel like you don't belong." He glanced at her, his voice steady. "And because you're worth protecting."

Ava lowered her gaze, her fingers brushing the glowing mark on her wrist. It pulsed faintly, as if it had a heartbeat of its own. "I don't feel worth protecting," she admitted. "I feel like a burden."

Lucien shook his head. "You're not a burden." He leaned in, his voice firm but kind. "They want you because they fear you. But the power you have isn't a curse. It's a gift. And I'll help you learn to use it."

She wanted to believe him, but doubt still clung to her. "How? I can't control it. It only shows up when I'm scared."

Lucien nodded. "That's where we start. Fear triggers it now, but it won't always be that way. With practice, you'll summon it when you want." He paused, his eyes steady on hers. "But first, you need to rest."

Ava let out a shaky breath. "Rest? We're being hunted, and you want me to sleep?"

Lucien gave a small, amused smile. "Even warriors need a break." He stood and stretched, moving with the smooth grace of a predator. "I'll keep watch."

Ava hesitated. Her body was exhausted, but her mind refused to relax. "What if they come back?"

"They won't get past me," Lucien said, his voice sure.

Something in his tone reassured her. She wasn't sure why, but she trusted him.

Reluctantly, Ava leaned back against the rocks. Her muscles ached, her eyelids heavy. The stars peeked through the branches above, small and distant. She focused on them, trying to let the fear go.

"Lucien," she whispered as sleep began to pull her under.

"Yes?"

"Thank you." Her voice was quiet but filled with meaning.

Lucien didn't answer right away. When he finally spoke, his tone was warm. "You don't need to thank me."

Ava's breathing slowed. For the first time in a long while, she felt safe.

But she was wrong to let her guard down.

Hidden among the trees, a figure stood motionless, his presence blending into the shadows. He had been watching them for some time now, silent as a ghost. His sharp eyes gleamed in the moonlight, filled with cruel amusement.

"They think they're safe," the man whispered, his voice cold as ice. "But they won't escape."

He stepped forward slightly, his movements calculated. He wasn't just any hunter—he was something far worse. Unlike the others who chased Ava blindly, he was patient. He knew when to strike.

Lucien, sitting by the fire, suddenly tensed. His sharp senses pricked with awareness. He turned his head toward the darkness, his golden eyes narrowing.

The wind carried no scent, no sound—yet something felt wrong.

Lucien's jaw tightened. He wasn't fooled. Someone was out there. Watching. Waiting.

He rose to his feet, scanning the shadows. "You can't hide forever," he muttered under his breath.

Silence. Then, ever so faintly, the whisper of movement.

Lucien's fists clenched. He had a feeling this was just the beginning.

As Lucien stood guard, Ava's sleep was restless. Shadows danced behind her closed eyelids, twisting into shapes she couldn't understand.

Then, suddenly, she wasn't in the forest anymore.

She stood in a vast, empty space, surrounded by darkness. A strange energy pulsed in the air, making her skin prickle. She took a step forward, but the ground felt uncertain beneath her feet.

Then she heard it.

A deep, sinister voice.

"You can't run from what you are."

Ava's breath hitched. She spun around, searching for the source, but there was nothing. Just endless darkness.

"The power inside you… it belongs to us."

Ava's heart pounded. "Who are you?" she demanded.

A laugh echoed, cold and cruel.

"Soon, you'll remember."

Suddenly, pain seared through her wrist. She gasped, clutching it as the mark burned white-hot. The air crackled around her, the darkness pressing in.

Then—

She woke with a sharp inhale.

Lucien was kneeling beside her, his face tight with concern. "Ava?"

She panted, her skin damp with sweat. The mark on her wrist still throbbed. "I… I saw something."

Lucien's eyes darkened. "What did you see?"

Ava swallowed, her pulse still racing. "A voice. It said my power belongs to them." She looked at him, fear creeping back into her voice. "Lucien, what if they're right? What if—"

"No." His voice was firm. "Your power belongs to you, Ava. No one else."

She wanted to believe him, but the dream had felt real. And deep down, a terrifying thought was taking root.

What if she wasn't meant to control this power?

What if she was meant to be controlled by it?

Lucien seemed to sense her fear. He gently took her hand, his warmth grounding her. "We'll figure this out," he promised. "You're not alone."

Ava nodded, though doubt still lingered.

The night stretched on, heavy with unspoken worries. The forest was quiet again, but both of them knew—

This was only the beginning.

And the real danger hadn't even begun.