The forest loomed ahead—dark and endless, a jagged line of twisted branches silhouetted against the burgeoning light. Taryn adjusted her pack on her shoulder, her boots crunching against the gravel path beneath them. The forest didn't scare her; she'd tracked creatures through worse.

It was the vampire trailing behind her, moving like a whisper, smugness trailing behind him..

"You know," Lucien drawled from just behind her shoulder, his voice velvet-smooth but sharpened by mischief, "if you keep glaring like that, you'll set the forest on fire."

Taryn shot her glare over her shoulder. "Better hope you're fireproof then."

Lucien grinned as though she'd just complimented him. "Ah, you do have a sense of humor. I knew it was in there somewhere." He fell into step beside her, his movements sleek and effortless, as if the forest path were made just for him.

She wished he'd get bored and disappear already, but of course, vampires always stuck around when you least wanted them to. They were predators, after all—drawn to the things that squirmed.

"Tell me something, warrior," Lucien continued, brushing a low-hanging branch out of his path with irritating ease. "Do you ever relax? Or are you always this pleasant?"

"Depends," Taryn muttered, scanning the treeline for any signs of movement. "Do you always talk this much, or is it a special talent reserved just for me?"

Lucien chuckled, the sound warm and unbothered. "You bring out the best in me."

Taryn's scowl deepened. "That's depressing."

He sighed theatrically. "Such hostility. And here I thought this was the start of a beautiful partnership."

"Partnership?" She shot him another sharp glance. "More like a temporary arrangement I'll be happy to see end."

"Temporary?" Lucien pressed a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. "Don't be so cruel, Taryn. I'm starting to think you're trying to get rid of me."

She snorted. "Starting to?"

Lucien grinned, his silver eyes gleaming beneath the fading light. "You wound me."

"Not yet," she muttered. "But there's still time."

He laughed softly, and it was infuriating how easily the sound slipped into the quiet morning, like it belonged there. Lucien seemed to move through the world with the same careless grace—untouched by the weight of things that clung to her. Every step he took seemed lighter, like he'd never once carried anything heavier than his own arrogance.

"How do you do that?" she asked before she could stop herself.

Lucien glanced at her, a slow, lazy smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "Do what? Be charming?"

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Taryn rolled her eyes so hard she felt it in her skull. "No. Be… so damn unbothered."

He gave a small shrug, his grin widening as if amused that she'd asked. "It's a gift."

"And a curse," she muttered.

They lapsed into silence for a moment, the forest closing in around them as the path narrowed. The silence pressed harder than it should have. She was used to quiet—preferred it, even. But Lucien's silence felt like it was waiting for something, and that made her itch.

"You know," he said thoughtfully, "this might go a little easier if you tried being nice to me."

Taryn snorted. "I'll consider it. Right after the beast eats you."

Taryn focused on the sounds of the woods—the rustle of leaves, the faint trickle of water from a nearby stream. Anything to drown out the frustrating vampire beside her.

But Lucien, apparently, wasn't one for quiet. He laughed, a low, genuine sound that caught her off guard. "You're quick. I like that."

She stopped abruptly, whirling to face him. "Look, I don't care what you like. Just stay out of my way, and maybe you'll live long enough to crawl back to whatever coffin you swaggered out of."

Lucien leaned in slightly, his silver eyes glinting with something dangerously close to amusement. "Careful, Taryn. You almost sound like you care what happens to me."

Her jaw clenched. He was too close. She could feel the weight of his gaze, sharp and amused, and it made her want to shove him off the nearest cliff.

Taryn's pulse stuttered, a flicker of frustration—and something else— and she stomped it down immediately. "Don't flatter yourself."

He gave her a slow, deliberate smile, as if savoring her frustration like a fine wine. "Too late."

Taryn turned on her heel and started walking again, biting back the urge to snap at him.

Gods above, this was going to be a long hunt.

For a few blessed moments, Lucien stayed quiet, content to trail behind her like a well-dressed shadow. But she could feel his presence, a steady hum at the edge of her awareness—sharp and deliberate. The silence stretched thin between them, and just when she thought he might finally leave her alone, Lucien spoke again, his voice softer this time. "So… what's your story, warrior?"

Taryn kept her eyes forward, her jaw tight. "I don't have one."

Stories were dangerous. They made you vulnerable, and Taryn had no use for vulnerability. Especially not with someone like Lucien.

"Oh, come on," Lucien coaxed, stepping lightly over a fallen branch. "Everyone has a story. Even you."

Stories were for people who needed to explain themselves. Taryn had no interest in being understood. She didn't need to know him. She just needed to survive the hunt.

Taryn's grip tightened on the strap of her pack. "And what's yours, then? Since you're so eager to share."

Lucien grinned, as though she'd walked right into a trap. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

Taryn let out a frustrated breath. "Hard pass."

"Suit yourself." He shrugged, completely unfazed. "But believe me—you're missing out. I've lived a fascinating life."

"I'll take your word for it," she muttered, quickening her pace.

A cold breeze snaked through the trees, rustling the canopy and coaxing a shiver she wasn't sure was from the cold. She ignored it, focusing instead on the steady crunch of her boots on the path—and the vampire trailing too close behind.

"Tell me at least one thing," he said after a beat, his voice light, but with a thread of curiosity woven through it. "Why do you hate vampires so much?"

Taryn didn't answer right away. She kept her gaze fixed on the darkening forest ahead, the shadows deepening beneath the canopy. "I don't hate vampires," she said finally, her tone flat and unconvincing.

Lucien arched a brow, a slow grin curling at the edges of his mouth. "Could've fooled me."

Taryn's lips pressed into a thin line. "I don't hate vampires," she repeated. "I just hate you."

Lucien's laughter rang through the woods, bright and unapologetic. "Fair enough, warrior."

Taryn fought the urge to smile—and lost. Just a little. And Lucien caught it, of course he did. His grin widened in response.

"Oh," he murmured, his voice low and amused. "This is going to be fun."

Taryn shot him a glare, though it lacked its usual venom. "Only for one of us." Her mouth twitched again—a small, traitorous slip she killed the second it happened. Saints, the last thing she needed was to give him any more satisfaction.

Lucien's smile was slow and deliberate, all sharp edges and dangerous charm, his gaze holding hers for a moment too long. "We'll see."

And just like that, they fell into step again, their bickering as natural as the rhythm of their footsteps.

As they disappeared deeper into the forest, Taryn let out a long, exasperated sigh.

Yeah. This was hell already.