The door slammed shut behind him, leaving me alone in the cavernous chamber. My heart was still pounding, but this time it wasn’t from fear—it was from sheer frustration.

I had barely sat down on the edge of the bed when the knock came. Too quick and too sharp.

“Get dressed,” a guard’s voice ordered from the other side.

My first thought was that he’d summoned me again for another round of verbal sparring. My stomach turned at the idea. But when the doors opened, Lira was there too, her expression tight, almost wary.

“Do exactly as you’re told tonight,” she said. “This isn’t about you.”

“That’s never comforting,” I muttered.

She crossed to the wardrobe and pulled out a set of dark clothing. “Wear this.”

I stared at it. Not silk. Not lace. A hunter’s dress—practical and close-fit. A dark, long-sleeved tunic reinforced with stitched leather along the ribs and shoulders.

There was also a knee-length split skirt layered over fitted trousers for movement with fingerless gloves. A narrow belt with loops and ties. Soft-soled boots built to run. A short hooded cloak that smelled faintly of oil and rain.

“Why this?” I asked.

“Because you’ll be outside,” Lira said. “And because if someone tells you to run, you’ll be able to.”

Anger prickled under my skin. I hated that it made sense. I hated that it fit me like it was made for me. I dressed anyway and tugged the tunic down, tied the belt, slid on the gloves. I laced the boots tight and pulled my hair back with a leather tie. The weight settled evenly. It felt ready. I didn’t.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

Lira glanced at the door. “Keep your head down. Breathe through your mouth.”

That sent a chill down my spine. I was led down dim corridors, the marble floors cold under my boots, until we stepped out into the courtyard.

Rayne stood waiting near the black carriage, but this time he wasn’t wearing his coat and polished boots. His clothes were dark, fitted, and built for movement — the kind you wore when expecting trouble.

He looked me over once, his silver eyes flicking with calculation. “You’re coming with me.”

I folded my arms. “Why?”

“Because something’s in the forest that shouldn’t be,” he said simply. “And I don’t leave my… acquisitions unguarded.”

The word made my blood boil, but before I could argue, he’d already stepped into the carriage. The guards flanked me, leaving no room to refuse.

We rode in silence, the wheels crunching over gravel until they hit the dirt path beyond the palace grounds. The landscape outside the windows was worse than the gray haze I’d seen before. Here, the trees were twisted like bones, their branches skeletal fingers against the night sky. A faint, sour smell of rot clung to the air.

Rayne sat across from me, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp, scanning the shadows outside like a predator watching for movement.

The carriage jolted to a stop so abruptly I had to brace my hands on the seat. Rayne was already moving before I could ask what happened.

“Stay inside,” he ordered, stepping out into the night.

Through the narrow window, I caught a glimpse of him disappearing into the darkness and then I heard it. Low, guttural snarls. The clang of metal. A wet tearing sound that made my stomach lurch.

The carriage door swung open before I could stop myself. The cold night air slammed into me, thick with the stink of rot and damp earth.

Rayne was already ten paces away, a black silhouette against the tangle of twisted trees. The moonlight barely pierced the canopy, catching only the gleam of his coat and the quick, fluid snap of his movements.

The snarl came first low, guttural, and too close. Then the Ferals broke through the undergrowth.

I’d seen predators before, but nothing moved like this, all the tendon and teeth with its limbs bending wrong. They surged toward him in a pack.

Rayne didn’t retreat. One vaulted from a root with it's claws outstretched. He spun aside, faster than my eyes could track, letting it crash into the trunk behind him. Before it could recover, he drove it back with a sharp, almost casual kick that sent it skidding into the shadows.

Another lunged from his flank. He ducked low, rolling through damp leaves, and came up behind it — not quite where it should have been possible in that time. The wet crack of bone reached me even over the Ferals’ shrieking.

The rest hesitated only a breath before rushing him all at once. He leapt, catching a low branch overhead, swinging his body to drive both boots into the chest of the nearest Feral. The impact flung it into another, tangling them in a mess of claws and limbs.

From my vantage, I caught only fragments — a blur passing between trunks, a feral collapsing mid-charge, Rayne’s coat flaring as he twisted through the mist. His steps made no sound; the only noise was the Ferals’ fury and the sharp, decisive end of it.

One broke from the fight, turning toward me. My breath caught, spear tightening in my hands. It was halfway across the clearing before something dark intersected its path — Rayne, moving with such sudden speed that my eyes struggled to follow.

The Feral’s body hit the ground in two distinct pieces.

Silence fell, broken only by the faint drip of water from the branches. Rayne stood in the center of the clearing, breath steadying, his gaze scanning the treeline like he expected more.

When he finally turned toward me, I could see the moonlight on his eyes, and for an instant they seemed almost silver.

“You were supposed to stay inside,” he said,

I met his gaze without flinching. “You were busy.”

His mouth curved in something between irritation and… respect.

“They’re Ferals. Vampires who’ve lost themselves to hunger. Dangerous to everyone.”

“Why were they after us?” I asked before I could stop myself.

His jaw tightened. “I wanted you to see for yourself what’s outside the walls if you ever think about escaping.”

He gave a short nod toward the road. “Let’s go.”

Brea was still bristling, her eyes locked on the blood-stained ground. Rayne caught her arm before she could argue, pulling her toward the waiting carriage. She climbed in without looking at him, her anger simmering just beneath the surface.

On the ride back, no one spoke. The only sound was the steady clatter of wheels on dirt. But more than once, I caught Rayne watching me...

When we reached the palace gates, Lira was waiting, her eyes widening at the sight of the blood on my clothes.

“She stays in my quarters until the walls are secure,” Rayne told her.

My breath caught. My cage had just gotten smaller. And yet… the look in his eyes told me this wasn’t just about keeping me prisoner.

Whatever had attacked us tonight wasn’t finished. And neither was he.