Elara ran.
Branches tore at her skin as she fled through the burning forest, smoke clawing at her lungs. The night screamed behind her—trees splitting, earth cracking, something huge moving through the dark with purpose.
Not chasing.
Searching.
Her blood felt wrong inside her body. Too hot. Too loud. Every heartbeat sent sharp pulses of pain through her veins, like her bones were trying to break their way out of her skin.
Blood Witch.
The word echoed again and again in her mind, each repetition heavier than the last.
She didn't know what it meant—but she knew it was a death sentence.
A horn sounded again, closer this time.
Elara stumbled, falling hard into the dirt. Her palms hit the ground and pain shot up her arms. She tried to stand—
—and screamed.
The earth beneath her hand moved.
Dark veins spread through the soil like living things, pulsing in rhythm with her heart. The ground cracked open, swallowing roots, stones, insects—everything—feeding on her panic.
"No," she sobbed. "Stop—please—"
The magic didn't listen.
Footsteps echoed through the smoke.
Three figures emerged from the flames, tall and armored, faces hidden behind bone-white masks carved with infernal sigils.
Devils.
Hunters.
One tilted his head. "She's awakened."
Another laughed softly. "Barely stable. We can take her alive."
Elara scrambled backward, terror ripping through her. "I won't go with you."
"That's unfortunate," the first said calmly, raising his blade. "Because you don't matter. Your blood does."
The blade came down.
The world shattered.
Something inside Elara snapped open.
Power surged—not controlled, not careful—feral.
The ground erupted.
Blackened roots burst upward, impaling one hunter through the chest before he could scream. Blood sprayed across the burning leaves, steaming as it hit the ground.
The second hunter froze.
Elara stared in horror at what she'd done.
"I— I didn't mean—"
The third hunter moved fast, grabbing her wrist, sigils flaring as he began a binding spell.
Pain ripped through her arm.
Instinct took over.
Elara grabbed his forearm.
The moment skin met skin, his scream split the air.
Blood drained from his body in seconds—pulled into her. She felt it rush through her veins, thick and intoxicating, filling the cracks inside her with stolen strength.
The hunter collapsed into ash.
Silence fell.
Elara staggered back, staring at her hands, now smeared with blood that wasn't entirely hers.
She had killed them.
Not accidentally.
Not completely.
She retched, collapsing to her knees, shaking violently.
"I'm a monster," she whispered.
A shadow fell over her.
Kael stood there, unharmed, untouched by the fire, watching the carnage with unreadable eyes.
He looked at the corpses.
Then at her.
Slowly, deliberately, he knelt in front of her.
"You survived your first hunt," he said. "That makes you dangerous."
Tears streamed down her face. "I didn't want to kill them."
Kael reached out and wiped blood from her cheek with his thumb. The touch sent a violent shiver through both of them.
"I know," he replied.
Then, quietly—truthfully—
"That won't last."
Another horn sounded in the distance. More hunters. Stronger ones.
Kael stood, drawing his blade, flames licking along its edge.
"Get up, Elara," he said, voice cold with intent. "If you stay weak, they'll rip you apart."
She looked up at him, fear and something darker twisting together in her chest.
"And if I don't?" she asked.
Kael smiled.
Not kindly.
"Then I'll teach you how to survive."
Behind them, the forest burned.
And somewhere deep within Elara,
something hungry smiled back.