122

The night air was thick with the lingering tension of what had happened earlier. Bavanda sat by the fire, her knees pulled to her chest, staring into the flickering flames. She still felt the remnants of the monster inside her, clawing at the edges of her mind. It terrified her.

Loco sat a few feet away, wrapping a fresh bandage around his arm where her claws had torn through his skin. He hadn’t complained once about the pain.

Bavanda swallowed hard before finally whispering, “Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

Loco paused, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “Because I know this isn't really you.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

He set the bandages aside and moved closer. “Then let me remind you.”

Her breath caught as he reached out, his fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path along her jawline. His touch was warm, grounding. She turned her face into his palm, closing her eyes.

“I don’t want to lose myself,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You won’t,” Loco promised. “Not as long as I’m here.”

She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. There was something in the way he looked at her—like she wasn’t a monster, like she was something precious.

Without thinking, she leaned forward, closing the space between them. Loco didn’t hesitate. His lips met hers, soft at first, testing, but then the kiss deepened, turning desperate, as if they both knew this moment might be stolen from them.

Bavanda shifted closer, pressing against him. His hands traced down her back, pulling her against his body, molding her to him. The warmth of his skin sent a shiver down her spine, her heart hammering against her ribs.

She wanted to forget. Forget the pain, the fear, the darkness that lurked inside her. She wanted to lose herself in him.

“Loco…” she whispered against his lips, her fingers tangling in his hair.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his breathing ragged. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, searching his eyes. “Yes.”

A flicker of something intense passed through his gaze before he captured her lips again, his hands roaming her body with reverence. They sank into the furs near the fire, bodies tangled, breaths mingling.

For the first time in a long time, Bavanda felt something other than fear. She felt safe, and that was a feeling she had been yearning for since forever.

As the fire crackled beside them, they lost themselves in each other, unaware that just beyond the trees, danger was already closing in.

The next morning, Bavanda stirred awake to the warmth of a body beside her. For a moment, she didn't move—she just felt. The steady rhythm of Loco’s breathing, the way his arm rested protectively around her waist, the lingering scent of him still clinging to her skin.

She had never woken up like this before. She had wondered what it would be like, waking up beside someone that cared for her, after a passionate night, but she had actually never experienced it.

Well, here she was. And it definitely felt good.

Her fingers absentmindedly traced the curve of his forearm. The realization settled deep inside her—she had spent so long feeling lost, like she didn’t belong anywhere. But here, in this stolen moment, wrapped in Loco’s warmth… she wasn’t sure anymore.

She almost did belong.

Loco stirred, his hold on her tightening slightly before his amber eyes fluttered open. Sleepy, yet so sexy. He looked at her, his gaze different now—deeper, more certain.

He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're still here," he murmured, his voice rough from sleep.

Bavanda swallowed. "Where else would I be?"

His lips curled into a small, almost sad smile. "Anywhere but with me."

She didn’t know how to respond to that.

Loco exhaled, shifting so he was propped on his elbow, watching her. His fingers traced light patterns along her arm, hesitant at first, then firmer, like he wanted to memorize the feel of her.

“I need to say something,” he admitted, voice quieter now, as if afraid of breaking the moment.

Bavanda’s heart pounded.

“I never expected to feel this way,” he continued. “Not after everything. Not after what I grew up with. But you…” He shook his head, as if struggling to find the right words. “You make me want something I never thought I could have. Right from the moment I met you at your birthday party, I wanted to walk away and not fulfill the reason I was there. But I knew that'd end with my head far away from my body so I had to.”

Bavanda’s breath hitched.

“I'm sorry for everything you've had to go through because of me. I wish it had to be different. I wish I had come to you under normal circumstances, then…maybe then I wouldn't feel so guilty for falling in love with you.”

She looked at him immediately, her eyes widening.

“Trust me, it's not too soon. I've been watching you since forever." He gave a small, almost self-deprecating chuckle. “I don’t expect you to feel the same, Bavanda. I just…” He paused, his fingers tightening around hers. “Just knowing you’re here… that’s enough for me.”

Her chest ached at his words. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. What was she supposed to say?

She had spent her entire life surrounded by duty, expectations, pain. Love was never something she considered. And now, here was Loco—broken, dangerous, yet somehow the only person who had ever truly seen her.

Did she feel the same?

Or was it just the circumstances—the desperation, the need to not be alone? And what happened to Theresa? She could swear that days ago, she definitely felt this same way. Why did it have to be that way? Was this also an after effect of everything?

She hated that she didn’t know.

She wanted to respond. She wanted to give him the words he deserved.

Before she could, however, he rose abruptly to his feet. She had been so lost in her thoughts, that she didn't notice the change in his expression.

“What's wrong?" She questioned, sitting up.

"I feel dark energy.” His entire body tensed, his heightened senses picking up on the movement beyond the trees. Too many footsteps.

Something was coming.

A black tendril shot out from the darkness, aimed directly at Bavanda. Loco reacted in an instant, shoving her out of the way. The impact sent him rolling across the ground, barely managing to steady himself before another tendril lashed toward him. He dodged just in time.

Bavanda scrambled up, her breath sharp. “What the…?”

A cruel laugh echoed through the clearing.

From the shadows, Theresa emerged, her figure draped in black, her eerie eyes gleaming with amusement. Around her, the dark forces slithered like living nightmares—shadow warriors with twisted, shifting forms, their eyes glowing a sickly white.

Bavanda’s heart pounded. Loco’s entire body went rigid. The warmth between them shattered instantly, replaced with ice-cold dread.

"How touching," she drawled, stepping forward. "I must admit, Loco, I didn't think you had it in you." Her dark eyes gleamed. "Love? Really? That’s what made you turn against us?"

Loco was already on his feet, reaching for the dagger he always kept nearby.

He said nothing, yet his silence said all the words.

Theresa’s smirk widened. "Silent, are we? I expected more fight from you. Or maybe you finally understand how pointless it is?"

Bavanda clenched her fists. "How did you find us?"

Theresa gave a mock-pout. "Oh, darling. You were never lost. But I must thank you for leading us right to you. You have no idea we have every connection to the monster inside of you." Her gaze flickered to Loco. "And my, my… you played your part well, didn't you?"

Bavanda’s heart stopped. She turned to Loco, horror twisting in her gut. "What is she talking about?"

Loco didn’t look at her. His jaw tightened. His knuckles went white around his dagger.

Theresa laughed. "Oh, he didn't tell you?" She tilted her head. "Loco is one of us, my dear. And not just any soldier—he’s the one tasked directly with bringing you to your downfall. He led me to you from the start, and now, he was supposed to bring you back."

Bavanda took a step back, her mind reeling.

“No,” Loco finally spoke, his voice low, dangerous. “I was one of you. I’m not anymore.”

Theresa tsked. "And yet you kept Bavanda distracted, just long enough for us to prepare.”

Theresa tilted her head, smirking. “I must admit, Loco… I didn’t expect this from you.” Her voice was laced with mockery, smooth as silk but sharp as a blade. “I never took you for the sentimental type.”

Loco said nothing. His stance was firm, protective, his body positioned between Bavanda and the threat before them.

Theresa sighed dramatically. “To think you’d betray us… for her.” She tsked. “Did you really believe you could just steal her away and just disappear?”

Loco’s grip tightened around the hilt of the dagger he’d drawn. His expression was unreadable, but Bavanda could feel the tension rolling off him.

“Tsk! The darkness is so disappointed in you." Theresa’s lips curled. “Tell me, Loco… was she worth it?”

That was the last straw.

Loco lunged. The battle erupted in an instant.

Bavanda barely had time to react before shadow warriors swarmed around them. Loco moved like a blur, his blade cutting through the dark tendrils, his movements precise and deadly. But there were too many.

Theresa stood back, watching, not bothering to engage. Her eyes were locked on Bavanda.

Bavanda tried to fight, slashing through the creatures, but they kept reforming, their inky forms shifting like smoke. Then she saw it—Theresa moving toward her, completely ignoring Loco, her gaze fixated on her.

“This was never about him,” Theresa purred. “It was always about you.”

She struck without warning. Bavanda barely dodged the attack, stumbling back as Theresa’s magic lashed out. The force sent her crashing into the dirt, pain flaring through her ribs.

“Loco!” she gasped.

He turned, eyes widening—but in that moment, the shadow warriors overwhelmed him, piling onto him like a black wave. He gritted his teeth, struggling against them, but their sheer numbers dragged him down.

Bavanda’s blood ran cold. Something snapped inside her.

A low growl rumbled in her chest, deep, guttural. Her vision blurred, her body trembled. She felt the familiar pull, the beast clawing its way to the surface.

Her bones cracked. Her muscles contorted. Then she shifted. Not into her normal wolf.

No. Into the monster.

A massive, dark-furred beast, twice the size of an average werewolf. Her claws dug into the earth. Shadows curled off her fur like mist. A deadly silence fell over the battlefield. Even the shadow warriors hesitated.

Theresa, however, only grinned.

Bavanda lunged. The force of her attack sent shadows flying, her monstrous jaws tearing through them as if they were paper. Loco managed to break free amidst the chaos, his eyes locking onto Bavanda’s form.

He had seen this before, and it terrified him. “Bavanda…”

She wasn’t listening. She was lost to the beast.

Her sights locked onto Theresa, pure rage consuming her. She lunged again, aiming for Theresa’s throat, but Theresa was ready.

Just before Bavanda reached her, she raised her hands, her lips parting. Strange, guttural words spilled from her mouth. Dark, ancient magic.

Bavanda felt it instantly. A force inside her, gripping her chest, sinking deep into her mind. Her body convulsed. Pain exploded through her skull.

She stumbled, her monstrous form flickering, her limbs locking up.

Loco’s eyes widened. “Bavanda! Fight it!”

But she couldn’t.

Theresa’s words slithered into her brain like poison, twisting, tightening—forcing the monster back into submission.

Bavanda let out a strangled howl before collapsing, her form shifting violently, limbs contorting as she was dragged back into her human body.

And all she saw afterwards was darkness.