The cave behind the waterfall was silent, save for the distant roar of rushing water. Thorn sat near the entrance, keeping watch, while Serah lay a few feet away, trying to calm her racing heart.
They had survived the ambush… but barely.
Serah couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the blue lights of the drones and the cold glint in those scientists' eyes. She shifted, wincing slightly as a bruise on her shoulder throbbed.
"You should rest," Thorn said, his voice low and husky.
"I can't," she whispered. "Not when I know they'll keep coming."
Thorn walked over and crouched in front of her, his strong hands brushing a strand of hair from her face. "They'll always come for me. It's what they've done since I was born. But you… you don't belong in this nightmare."
"Yes, I do," Serah said firmly. "I chose to be here—with you."
He stared at her, his eyes flickering with something she hadn't seen before.
Vulnerability.
"I've been alone my whole life, Serah. I never believed I'd find someone who looked at me without fear." He reached out, placing her hand on the spot where his thorns rested beneath the surface. "Do you feel that? That's what they want to use. That's what they want to control."
"I don't care about the thorns," Serah said, her voice trembling. "I care about the man beneath them."
---
The moment wrapped around them like a blanket.
Thorn pulled her into his arms slowly, almost hesitantly. They sat in silence for a long time, bodies pressed close, hearts beating as one.
Serah looked up at him, her breath brushing his lips. "You never had a home, did you?"
He shook his head. "No."
She cupped his face, her fingers soft against his rugged skin. "Then let me be your home."
Their kiss was slow this time—deep, unhurried, like the calm after a storm. He laid her down gently onto the furs he'd gathered earlier, his body covering hers like a shield.
As they made love for the second time, there was no fear, no rush—only need. A need to hold each other. A need to heal.
And maybe… a need to belong.
---
Later, they lay side by side, her head resting on his chest, fingers tracing the lines of his scars.
"Thorn," she said softly, "what if we keep running forever?"
He took a deep breath. "Then we run. Together."
She smiled faintly and closed her eyes.
But just as sleep began to take her, a faint beep echoed from outside the cave.
Thorn sat up instantly, his eyes glowing with alertness.
Serah followed. "What is it?"
He didn't answer.
Another beep—closer now. Then a red flicker against the cave wall.
Thorn moved to the entrance and peeked through the waterfall.
His jaw tightened.
Serah crept beside him, and her blood ran cold.
In the shadows, right across the river, a small black orb hovered silently. A drone.
But not like the others.
This one bore the insignia of Blackroot Division—an elite branch of supernatural hunters known for destroying what they couldn't control.
And the drone wasn't alone.
Behind it stood a tall, cloaked figure in silver armor, face hidden beneath a hood. In his hand, a long staff glowed with blue fire.
Serah whispered, "Who is that?"
Thorn's voice was ice. "General Rhazir. The most dangerous of them all."
Serah's stomach flipped. "What does he want?"
Thorn's jaw clenched. "He's not here to capture me."
She looked at him, heart thudding. "Then what?"
He turned to her, his voice low and dark.
"He's here to erase me."