Ruth didn't answer my calls.
Not once.
Her silence followed me like a ghost—every unanswered ring another reminder that saving someone doesn't always mean they forgive you for it.
"She needs time," Santiago said, but his voice lacked conviction.
Time was something we were running out of.
The first death came three days later.
Not in a dream.
Not in the Veil.
In the real world.
A woman was found in Oslo, body twisted unnaturally, eyes burned out from the inside. The news called it a gas leak. Santiago didn't bother pretending.
"He marked her," he said. "A warning."
"For me?"
"For what you represent."
I felt hollow. "I didn't even know her."
"You will," Santiago said grimly. "By the end."
We moved constantly—safe houses, wards, borrowed places that never stayed safe for long. Every night my sleep pulled deeper, heavier, like the Veil was learning my shape.
And my power was changing.
I could feel things now—ripples in the air, cracks in reality, monsters hiding behind smiles. Once, on a train, I locked eyes with a man and knew instantly that something inside him was wrong.
I almost hunted him.
Santiago stopped me just in time.
"You're not a god," he said sharply. "You don't get to decide based on instinct alone."
"What if I'm right?" I snapped.
"What if you're not?"
The question stayed with me.
Ruth finally came to me at dawn.
She looked smaller somehow, wrapped in an oversized coat, eyes red but dry.
"I'm not here to forgive you," she said.
"I don't expect you to."
She swallowed. "But things have been happening. Bad things. And when they do… I think of you."
Hope flared—fragile, dangerous.
"I need to know," she continued, voice shaking. "Am I safe with you?"
I wanted to say yes.
Instead, I told the truth.
"I will die trying to keep you safe."
She nodded slowly. "Then teach me how not to be useless."
Santiago stiffened. "Absolutely not."
Ruth met his gaze without flinching. "I'm already in this."
So was I.
That night, Kristoffer came for us himself.
The sky split open above the abandoned warehouse, rain pouring down like the world was bleeding. Shadows tore through the walls, glass exploding inward.
Santiago shifted mid-stride—fur, claws, fangs tearing free as he lunged.
Kristoffer stood untouched in the chaos, coat pristine, smiling.
"Eliza," he called warmly. "You've grown."
I stepped forward before Santiago could stop me.
"You're afraid," I said.
He laughed. "Of you?"
"No," I said quietly. "Of what happens when I stop hesitating."
For the first time—
His smile faltered.
The Veil screamed open.
The fight burned everything.
Walls collapsed. Shadows screamed. I felt myself stretching—too far, too fast—power ripping through me like fire in my veins.
Kristoffer struck Ruth.
Santiago roared.
I broke.
Light exploded outward, consuming shadow, flesh, lies. The Veil slammed shut with a thunderclap that shattered the night.
When the world settled—
Kristoffer was gone.
So was Santiago.
I screamed his name until my throat tore.
I found him at sunrise.
Human again. Broken.
Blood soaked the ground beneath him.
"Eliza," he whispered.
I knelt, hands shaking. "Stay with me. Please."
He smiled weakly. "This is the cost."
"No," I said fiercely. "I decide the cost."
His eyes dimmed.
And went still.
I didn't cry.
Not then.
I stood, blood on my hands, power roaring inside me, something sharp and merciless taking root where fear used to live.
The Hunter didn't sleep that night.
And she never would again.