Time became a river they drifted through without anchor.
Thaddeus and Serana moved constantly. Never staying anywhere longer than a few days. Never establishing patterns that could be tracked.
They didn't know if Malachai was still hunting them. Didn't know if he'd given up, moved on, assumed them dead. But they couldn't risk finding out the hard way.
So they moved.
From the mountains, they descended into lowland forests, thick canopy that blocked sky, underbrush dense enough to hide their passage.
Two months in the forests. Learning to move silently. Learning to trust nothing.
Then northeast, toward the border territories where vampire influence waned and other races maintained their own domains. Dangerous, but dangerous meant Malachai's reach was less certain.
---
Now, six months after their pact with Tiamat, six months after Serana had nearly died in Thaddeus's arms, they'd found temporary refuge in ancient ruins.
