"Run," Lucien said, already grabbing her arm and pulling her into motion.

Taryn didn't argue. She sprinted after him, feet pounding the forest floor as branches whipped at her face. The rumbling grew louder, closer—the ground shaking beneath their boots as if the forest itself was trying to rip apart.

"Faster!" Lucien barked, glancing over his shoulder. "It's right behind us!"

Taryn risked a look back and felt her stomach twist. The beast barreling toward them was massive, its glowing eyes wild with fury, jagged spikes bristling along its thick hide. Every step it took sent a tremor through the earth.

They tore through the forest, dodging branches and skirting roots, but the beast was closing in fast—its snarls like thunder on their heels.

"There!" Lucien pointed toward a narrow crevice between two massive boulders. "Go!"

Taryn didn't hesitate. She dove into the gap, squeezing through the narrow opening just as Lucien followed, his chest pressed against hers in the cramped space.

The beast slammed into the rocks with a deafening roar, clawing furiously at the stone walls. Pebbles rained down as it tried—and failed—to force its way through. Taryn pressed her back against the rock, chest heaving as she fought to catch her breath.

Lucien stood over her, the rise and fall of his chest too measured, too calm, given the situation. Her chest pressed against his—an unavoidable consequence of the cramped space.

"We won't be safe here for long," Taryn whispered, glancing up at the trembling rocks above them.

Lucien tilted his head, his mouth curving into that infuriating grin. "This is fate, isn't it?"

Taryn shot him a glare, though it lacked any real bite. "Shut up."

Lucien chuckled softly, a sound low and dangerous, thrumming beneath the noise of the beast outside. "You always say that. But here we are—wedged together in a rock crevice, waiting to die. Tell me again how this isn't fate?"

"I swear, Lucien—"

"Relax, warrior," he murmured, his voice dipping lower. "I'm not going to bite. Unless you ask nicely."

Taryn clenched her teeth, ignoring the flutter in her chest at the heat of his breath against her ear. "This really isn't the time for your bullshit."

Lucien shifted slightly—just enough to press closer, her face brushing his chest, his breath warm against her skin. "There's always time for a little fun."

Her heart slammed against her ribs. She hated the way her body leaned—just a fraction—toward him, as if drawn by something she couldn't name.

The beast outside roared, shaking the rocks again. Taryn's pulse quickened. She forced herself to focus. "That thing will tear through these rocks any second."

"Then we better make it count," Lucien murmured, and damn him, there was that lazy grin again.

Before Taryn could snap back, the beast's claws scraped against the rock with a grating screech. Lucien's arms raised to shield them from the dust and pebbles raining down around them. Taryn's heart stuttered in her chest. Lucien shifted closer, his body pressing against hers in a way that felt protective and grounding. His silver eyes, sharp and steady now, locked onto hers.

"Stay close, Taryn," he whispered, his tone soft but serious. "No matter what." The sincerity in his voice caught her off guard, slicing through the teasing edge. For a moment, the world narrowed to just the space between them, razor-thin and heavy with everything unsaid.

"I've got you," Lucien whispered, his breath brushing her cheek. "We'll get through this."

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Taryn swallowed hard, her pulse roaring in her ears. The warmth of him seeped through the thin space between them, and it was suddenly hard to remember why she was supposed to keep her distance.

"You're not making this easy," she whispered, her voice thin with frustration—and something else she didn't want to name.

Lucien's grin softened, though a flicker of something darker lingered in his gaze. "Was it ever supposed to be easy?"

The beast outside snarled again, but it sounded farther away this time. Taryn's heart pounded in her chest, but not from fear.

Lucien's gaze dropped to her lips, lingering there for just a beat too long. Her breath caught in her throat, and she knew—knew—what was coming next. The chain between them hummed softly, the magic tightening, pulling their hands closer, as if even the curse wanted this.

"You want me to touch you," Lucien whispered, his voice low and dark, brushing against the edge of a dare. "Say it."

Taryn's breath hitched. "I—"

"Liar," he murmured, his lips dangerously close to hers. "You always lie about the things you want."

His hand drifted to her waist, the touch light but deliberate, sending a shiver down her spine. The chain pulsed between them, tightening with approval as if satisfied with the growing tension.

"You're impossible," Taryn whispered, though her voice wavered.

Lucien gave her a slow, wicked grin. "I've been called worse."

The beast roared again, but it felt distant—like background noise to the storm building between them. Lucien's fingers curled lightly at her waist, and the chain loosened slightly, as if granting permission.

"This is a bad idea," Taryn whispered, though her voice lacked conviction.

"Probably," Lucien agreed, his breath warm against her skin. "But you're not stopping me."

Taryn could feel his breath against her lips now, her pulse racing with every second that passed between them. The world tilted dangerously on the edge of something inevitable.

Lucien leaned in, his lips brushing hers—featherlight at first, almost hesitant. It wasn't a demand. It was a question.

And for once, Taryn didn't hesitate. She kissed him back.

The kiss was slow and deliberate, filled with all the tension they'd tried to deny. Lucien's hand tightened at her waist as the chain thrummed approvingly, binding them closer. For a moment, Taryn let herself fall—let herself get lost in the heat of him, in the way he kissed her like it was something he'd been waiting for.

But then it became too real.

Panic surged through her chest, cutting through the moment like a knife. She tore her mouth away, gasping for breath, her hand pressed firmly against Lucien's chest to keep him at bay.

Lucien's silver eyes were dark, his breath unsteady as he stared at her. "Taryn…"

"We can't," she whispered, her voice shaky. "This is… it's too much."

Lucien didn't argue. But the flicker of frustration behind his eyes told her everything—he'd been ready to fall, and she'd pulled them both back from the edge.

The beast outside snarled one last time, clawing half-heartedly at the rocks before retreating with a low, defeated growl. The forest grew quiet again, the wind rustling gently through the trees.

Taryn exhaled slowly, her pulse still racing. "It's gone."

"For now," Lucien muttered, though his gaze hadn't left hers.

The forest had gone eerily quiet, as if the trees themselves were holding their breath. But the beast's retreat didn't sit right—it had given up too quickly. Lucien's hand lingered at her waist, the brush of his fingers grounding her, even as her mind raced with the implications.

Her breath still came in shaky bursts. "That thing… It wasn't just wandering, was it?"

Lucien's jaw tightened. "No."

A heavy silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant rustle of leaves as the beast moved deeper into the forest, its growls fading into the night.

Taryn's pulse thudded at her throat, and she tilted her head to look past the rocks. The monster hadn't been hunting aimlessly—it had been moving with purpose. A cold knot tightened in her stomach as realization hit.

"We're near its lair," she whispered. "I thought we got turned around when we fell off that cliff, but we have circled back."

Lucien nodded, the gleam in his silver eyes sharpening with understanding. "That's why it didn't keep attacking. It's protecting something."

Taryn swallowed hard. "If we're quiet—fast—we might be able to follow it."

Lucien's grin returned, though it was tempered by something more dangerous now. "I knew you liked living on the edge, warrior."

"This isn't for fun," she shot back, though the flicker of excitement in her chest told a different story. "If we can find its lair, we'll know what we're dealing with."

"And hopefully how to kill it."

Taryn gave a slow nod, her heart pounding with renewed urgency. The weight of the chain between them pulsed faintly, as if the curse sensed their shared resolve. It would make following the creature difficult—moving together in sync was essential—but it wasn't impossible.

Lucien shifted, his body pressing against hers one final time as he adjusted his stance. "We have to be fast," he whispered, his voice brushing her ear in a way that made her skin prickle. "And quiet."

Taryn resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the proximity—though the warmth of him still hummed in her bones. "Think you can manage that?" she whispered back, her lips curving just slightly.

Lucien's mouth twitched in response. "Stick close, and we'll see."

Taryn gave him a sharp look, but her lips betrayed her with the barest hint of a smile. She hated how easily he got under her skin—and how effortlessly he made her feel like maybe, just maybe, they could survive anything.

"Ready?" she whispered.

Lucien's hand slid from her waist, his touch lingering just long enough to send a ripple of heat through her. His grin, though smaller now, still held that dangerous edge she was starting to recognize—like he was enjoying every second of this, even if it killed him.

"After you, warrior," he whispered, his silver eyes gleaming in the dim light.

With one final glance toward the darkness beyond the crevice, Taryn took a breath and moved. Lucien followed, close enough that the chain between them thrummed faintly with each step, pulling them tighter as if it, too, sensed what was coming next.

The beast was still out there. And if they were quiet enough—quick enough—they might just find what it was hiding.