The camp was no longer a place of safety. Every shadow carried danger. Every breeze whispered fear.
Serah sat near the fire, knees hugged to her chest, eyes lost in the dancing flames.
She couldn't forget it—the thorned hand, the eyes that weren't Thorn's, the feeling of being hunted.
Drayk paced nearby, blade drawn.
Eliara stood silently, scanning the darkness, lips tight.
"He's toying with us," she said at last. "He could've killed her. But he didn't."
"Why?" Serah asked.
"Because he's enjoying the fear," Eliara replied coldly. "He knows exactly who you are to Thorn."
Serah's heart thudded. "Then he'll come again."
Eliara nodded. "And next time, he won't run."
---
In the deeper forest...
Subject 02 crouched on a high branch, watching the camp from afar. The rain had stopped, but the fog clung low and thick.
He murmured softly, almost lovingly, "She's beautiful, brother... too beautiful to be yours."
He grinned, golden thorns poking through his bare back.
"You left her all alone. And now… she'll scream my name."
---
Suddenly, a sharp thrum echoed through the forest.
Thump.
Thump.
A warning.
Subject 02's grin faded.
Because he recognized that rhythm.
Thorn.
Thorn was near.
---
Back at camp, the fire flared wildly, as if sensing something powerful was coming.
Drayk stiffened. "You hear that?"
Serah stood slowly, her breath catching.
Out of the fog, a tall shadow emerged—bloody, breathless, and bruised.
Thorn.
She ran.
He caught her.
Their bodies collided in raw emotion, heat, and desperate relief.
"Thorn!" she cried, arms wrapped tight around him.
He buried his face in her hair. "I'm here… I came back for you."
Their kiss was deep, trembling, real—like a promise in a storm.
Eliara looked away, quietly smiling.
Even Drayk lowered his weapon.
"Let them have this moment," he said softly.
---
That night, inside the tent, the storm returned.
But outside, the jungle was quiet.
Because inside—the real thunder began.
Serah sat on Thorn's lap, their lips hungry, their touch desperate. Months of longing and fear exploded in fire and tenderness.
Her fingers trailed the lines of his scars, tracing each one like a story.
"You came back for me," she whispered, her voice shaking with tears.
Thorn leaned close, his breath hot on her neck. "I'd tear the world apart for you."
Their clothes fell away like leaves in the wind, and their bodies found each other in the dark, crashing like waves in a storm of love.
His touch was rough, but his kiss was gentle. Her gasps became cries, and his growls turned into whispers of her name.
That night, they were not soldier and creature.
They were man and woman—two broken souls finding salvation in each other's arms.
---
But outside the tent… gold eyes watched.
Subject 02 stood above, unmoving, unfazed by the rain that began to pour again.
He didn't flinch.
Didn't blink.
He just whispered—
"She's made her choice."
His golden thorns began to glow brighter.
"Now I'll make mine."