The wind howled across the cliffside, tugging at Lena's hair and whispering secrets only the night could understand. Below, the sea thrashed against the rocks like a beast in chains.
"As long as they think I'm with them," Asher said, voice low and distant, "I can keep you alive. But not forever."
Lena stared at the sea, trying to imagine her life before all of this. Before the Harcourts. Before Edward. It already felt like a memory that belonged to someone else.
"We need to stop them," she said, her voice steadier than she expected.
Asher turned slightly, eyes narrowed like he hadn't expected her to say that. But he nodded once.
They didn't speak after that. There was nothing left to say. They moved quickly, leaving the cliffside behind, cutting through a narrow path into the dense woods. The darkness was thicker here, the trees tall and close together, swallowing their footsteps and the weight of everything they carried.
Neither of them knew where they were going. But both knew what they were running from.
As they climbed a narrow slope, Lena stumbled, catching herself on a branch.
"You okay?" Asher asked, glancing back.
"I'm fine," she muttered, brushing leaves from her dress. "I just… I wasn't exactly dressed for an escape."
That almost made him smile.
A few more steps, and Asher stopped abruptly, holding out a hand.
Lena froze behind him. "What is it?"
He pointed ahead. Through a break in the trees, faint moonlight glinted off something metallic.
It was a motorcycle—half-buried in leaves, propped against a crumbling signpost. Dusty. Forgotten. But intact.
Asher approached cautiously, then knelt by the fuel tank.
"Still has gas," he said. "Probably stolen and dumped. But if it runs…"
He straddled the seat and tried the ignition. The engine coughed, sputtered, then roared to life.
Lena blinked. "That's… convenient."
"We could use a break," he said. "Come on."
She climbed on behind him, arms wrapping around his waist, her heart hammering harder than it had on the cliffs. Not from fear—but from the sheer unknown.
They roared into the night, the wind slicing past them as the trees turned to blur. The road was cracked and winding, swallowed by silence and shadow. Lena held tight, eyes fixed on the dark horizon.
This wasn't just escape. It was the beginning of something else.
Eventually, the gas began to run low. Asher slowed the bike and pulled off onto a narrow side road, dirt crunching beneath the tires. Up ahead, nestled between trees, stood the remains of a hunting cabin—weathered, crooked, but standing.
They hid the bike behind a fallen log and approached carefully.
Inside, the air was damp and cold. Broken floorboards groaned beneath their feet. But the walls held, and there was an old stone hearth.
Asher got to work building a fire while Lena dragged over a splintered bench. She sank onto it, wrapping her arms around her knees.
For a long time, the only sound was the crackle of flames and the occasional whisper of wind outside.
Asher crouched near the fire, feeding it slowly.
"You're quiet," Lena said, not looking at him.
"So are you."
"I'm trying not to think about how close I came to…" She trailed off. Dying. Being sacrificed. Becoming something for their ritual.
"They wanted you for something dark," he said. "That much I do know."
She turned to look at him. "Do you know why?"
He hesitated. "Not exactly. Something about your bloodline. Your family. It's… rare. Powerful. You weren't chosen at random."
Lena frowned. "I don't have any family. My parents died when I was young. I grew up in the system."
"That's probably exactly why they wanted you. No one to come looking."
She didn't answer. The fire's glow danced across her face, casting long shadows.
"You said earlier—on the cliff—that you can only protect me for so long," she said. "Because of them. The Harcourts."
Asher's shoulders tensed.
"And because of her," Lena added quietly. "Your sister."
His jaw tightened, but he didn't deny it.
"They're using her to control you."
Still no answer. But he didn't need to say it. The weight in his silence was enough.
"They're monsters," Lena whispered.
"No," he said finally. "They're people. That's what makes them dangerous. They look normal. They smile. They host weddings and drink wine and shake hands with mayors."
He looked up at her, eyes tired. "But underneath? They believe the world owes them power. And they'll bleed whoever they have to in order to take it."
Lena met his gaze, the firelight flickering between them.
"Then let's take something back."
Asher blinked, a slow breath leaving him. "We don't have weapons. We don't know where they've taken her."
"Then we start by finding out," she said. "£Do you think there's someone who might help?"
He nodded slowly. "An old contact. My father knew him. If he's still alive, he'll know what the Harcourts are planning."
Lena stood, brushing the dirt from her skirt. "Then we leave at first light."
Asher looked at her—really looked. She was still trembling slightly from cold, still trying to understand what had happened to her.
To Be Continue.....