Chapter 4: The Hunt or the Hunted

I don't have time to think.

The creature barrels toward me, all muscle and rage, its mutated form something out of a nightmare—part reptile, part wolf, with jagged bone spikes lining its back and too many teeth in its gaping mouth.

My instincts scream run, but I don't. I can't.

Jae is still watching me, waiting.

Waiting for me to fight.

I grip my rebar spear tighter, forcing my shaking legs to steady. The beast lets out a guttural snarl, lowering itself like a predator ready to pounce.

I breathe in.

Then it lunges.

Move.

I dodge at the last second, rolling to the side as its claws tear into the cracked pavement where I stood. The ground shakes beneath its weight. My heart slams against my ribs.

Too fast. Too strong.

I'm going to die.

No.

I won't die.

Not here. Not like this.

I spin, gripping my makeshift weapon and slam it forward, aiming for the creature's exposed side. The metal pierces flesh, sinking deep—

But it's not enough.

The monster howls in fury, whipping around faster than I can react.

A clawed limb connects with my stomach. Pain explodes through me as I'm thrown back, hitting the rubble hard. The impact knocks the wind out of me, black spots flashing behind my vision.

I gasp, struggling to get up.

The beast charges again, blood dripping from its wound, more enraged than injured.

I barely scramble to my feet before—

A blur of dark movement.

A flash of silver.

Jae moves like a shadow, smooth and lethal, his blade glinting as he slashes across the beast's throat in one clean strike.

A guttural gurgle, then silence.

The creature collapses.

I'm still panting, still clutching my ribs where I swear something broke, but I force myself to look up.

Jae stands over the body, his blade dripping red, his dark eyes unreadable as they lock onto mine.

The rush of the fight still thrums through my veins, mixing with something else—something I don't want to name.

He didn't need to step in.

And yet… he did.

Jae wipes his blade on the beast's fur, stepping toward me. I don't move as he crouches beside me, his hand reaching—

I flinch.

He stills.

For a second, the tension between us is thick, charged. His gaze flickers, something almost curious passing through his expression.

Then, without a word, he grabs my wrist, his touch firm and warm, and pulls me to my feet.

I stumble, body screaming in protest, but he doesn't let go.

"You hesitated," he says, voice low.

I glare at him. "I was busy not dying."

Jae's lips twitch—half-amused, half-something-else. "Next time, be faster."

I scowl, shoving his hand off me, but my balance wavers.

Jae sighs and, before I can protest, scoops me up like I weigh nothing.

I freeze.

My body presses against his, heat radiating from his skin, his scent something dark and dangerously intoxicating.

I hate that my pulse jumps.

I hate that he notices.

"Put me down," I snap, struggling.

Jae doesn't.

Instead, he smirks, shifting me against his chest like I'm a damn prize he just claimed.

"Earn your own food next time," he murmurs, voice brushing against my skin.

Then, without another word, he carries me away—leaving the carcass of the beast bleeding into the ruins behind us.

The Walk Back

Jae doesn't let me go for a long time.

At first, I fight him. I squirm, shove against his chest, try to plant my feet in the dirt. But he's strong—stronger than I expected.

"Relax," he says, adjusting me like I'm nothing more than an inconvenience. "You're injured. I'm not going to drag you back half-dead."

"I can walk."

"You can barely stand."

I grit my teeth, but I don't argue. Mostly because… he's right.

My ribs ache with every breath, and even though I don't want to admit it, being held like this feels safer than it should.

I can hear his heartbeat—steady, unfazed.

I hate that it calms me.

We walk in silence for a while, the ruins stretching around us like the remains of a forgotten world. I wonder if anyone else is out there, fighting to survive. If anyone I knew before is still alive.

I don't ask Jae.

I don't think I want the answer.

We reach a partially collapsed building—a former hotel, from the look of it. Jae steps inside without hesitation, carrying me past overturned furniture and shattered glass.

The air smells like dust and old fire.

A small campfire is already burning in the center of the room, its embers crackling softly against the silence.

Jae finally sets me down, but before I can pull away, his hands move to my waist.

I stiffen.

"What are you—"

"Your ribs," he says, his voice unreadable. "I need to check them."

I should refuse. Tell him to back off. But his fingers are already at the hem of my shirt, lifting it just enough to expose my bruised skin.

I suck in a breath as his fingertips ghost over my side, the heat of his touch making my nerves go haywire.

His expression doesn't change—still unreadable, still infuriatingly calm. But I swear something shifts in his gaze when he sees the marks blooming across my skin.

"They're not broken," he mutters, pressing gently. "Just bruised."

I hiss at the pressure. "Yeah, well, tell that to my lungs."

He actually smirks at that. Just barely.

His hand lingers for a second longer than necessary before he pulls away.

"Rest," he says, standing. "You'll need your strength."

I narrow my eyes. "For what?"

Jae doesn't answer. Instead, he turns, retrieving a strip of dried meat from his belt and tossing it onto my lap.

A reward?

Or another test?

I don't ask.

I just eat, the fire flickering between us, the shadows stretching long against the ruined walls.

Jae leans back against the debris, arms crossed, eyes closed like he's already asleep.

But I know better.

He's still watching.

Still waiting.

For what, I don't know.

But something tells me this is just the beginning.