Stuck with the enemy

Chapter 70: Storm and Wounds

Deniz's Story

The silence settled over us like a heavy blanket, the scent of blood and sweat thick in the air. My chest heaved as I stared at the bodies sprawled around us, twenty rogues down.

We didn't move. Couldn't. My hands were still trembling, knuckles raw and scraped. I felt Derek's breath behind me, ragged but strong.

I turned slowly. Our eyes locked. For a moment, there were no other sounds, just the echo of our shared heartbeat.

"Are you okay?" Derek's voice broke the silence, his tone trembling. He stepped closer, reaching out to gently cup my face. It was only then that I realised I was covered in blood.

"I'm fine," I whispered, gripping his wrist and lowering his hand. "It's not my blood."

I let my eyes travel over him, taking in the sight from head to toe.

"Derek, you're hurt!" I blurted out. Through the white of his shirt, a dark, growing stain of blood was clearly visible.

He glanced down, lips pressing into a thin line. "It's nothing serious," he murmured. "I'll be fine." His gaze swept over the clearing, his jaw tightening.

"We have to go," he said in a low voice. "More will come."

"You're right," I agreed, my own senses on high alert. My wolf was restless inside me, pacing and scanning the shadows.

We didn't talk as we started moving, weaving through the trees, our steps careful but urgent. My muscles ached from the shift, but I didn't care. Every second that passed, every breath of cold night air, reminded me that we had survived.

The trees opened up to a moonlit clearing. I stopped, letting the chill of the night air ground me. Derek stood beside me, his profile tense, jaw set.

"Are you okay?" he asked suddenly, voice low. "We have to stop. We can't shift back right now... We'll have to spend the night here."

"In the middle of the forest?" I said, a shiver slipping down my spine. "Let's keep going. I'm fine." But the night was already deep, the darkness almost complete, and he was right. We wouldn't make it back like this.

Thunder rumbled low in the distance, a warning of the storm rolling in. The air felt electric, charged and restless.

"There's a cabin nearby," he said out of nowhere, his voice resolute. "Come on." He took my hand and pulled me with him, his steps quick despite the obvious pain he was in.

"Derek, slow down! You're hurt," I called out over the first crack of thunder.

"I'm fine..." he said, the corner of his mouth tilting up in a faint smirk. "If I have to, I'll carry you the rest of the way. Now move—before the rain catches us."

We trudged forward, the sky above us darkening with heavy clouds. Rain began to fall in cold, fat drops, quickly turning the ground to slippery mud. My hair clung to my face, wet and tangled, as we stumbled on.

At last, the cabin emerged from the shadows. The small, weathered wooden structure stood alone, half-forgotten by time. Its sloped roof was heavy with moss, the small windows dark. The rain lashed against it, thunder cracking overhead, making it look even more ancient and lonely.

"Let's go inside," Derek said, breathless. He knelt and flipped up the doormat, fishing out a small, rusted key.

I huddled closer to the wall, trying to shield myself from the cold rain. "Whose cabin is this?" I asked, my voice tight with the chill.

"It's mine," he said quietly. "My father's hunting cabin. I... This was where I was headed all along." His eyes met mine as he pushed the door open and stepped aside, nodding for me to enter.