An empty page stares back at me, and I come to the conclusion it's better left this way. My thoughts are silent when I hold a pen in my hand, but buzz as soon as I look away. Journaling isn't for me.

I have no idea what to say to a page that won't speak back—a page no one will read.

We'll give our goodbyes today.

It's the only thing I can think of, but I don't want to write that. Don't want to waste the ink.

I set the pen down, then place a single green leaf— the best one I could find, with a maze of asymmetrical veins—between the pages. It's the exact opposite in color from his eyes, and I think I'd hate the color if painted on a wall, but in nature it's stunning. A reminder of here. Home.

Folding the thick cover, I close the clasp at the front and place the journal in my small suitcase.

I'll be going back to the city.

I know which towns run bus lines into the city, but are far enough away where Levi won't get suspicious. Nothing I could do will defeat Lucien head-on, I've learned that much. A single-handed covert attack still gives him the upper hand in strength and skill, even if I could manage to sneak up on him in the first place, so my only chance is to go back to work at Transylvania. To learn his habits, like I've learned Levi's, and if he's anywhere near as set in his ways—which I suspect he is— there will be an opening.

A time when he's weak or hungry. A time when he sleeps.

I'll tell Mags, too. Once Kristi sees how much I know, I'm sure she'll be willing to join together. The three of us are the ones who are around him the most, no one else has the same opportunities.

I haven't come up with an excuse for my absence, but maybe Lucien won't need one. I'm sure he'll feel like he's won with just my return. If I play dumb, maybe he'll fall for the act.

Setting the journal into a duffel bag that contains all the belongings I have left—a pile of clothes, a new raincoat, and some toiletries—I sling it over my shoulder and take one last look around, committing the unassuming walls and furniture to memory. So simple compared to Transylvania.

When I first saw the restaurant, bathed in crimson light and unmatched elegance, I thought I had found where I belonged. But perhaps it was only familiarity I felt. A longing for a home where I would be wanted. The extravagance reminded me of my parents, and a part of me does wish things could be different between me and them, but our priorities are too far apart.

I don't think I'll ever find another place like Levi's cabin. It doesn't boast the same expansive layout or high-end amenities, but the peace I've felt here is invaluable. I'll try to come back and visit, after this is all over.

I hope.

Clicking off the lamp, I walk down the hall towards the light coming from beneath the bedroom door. Levi stayed inside today, I suppose eager to have the cabin back to himself.

He could've heard me coming, but I'm not sure if he was paying attention, so I gently rap my knuckles on the wood. Before my hand falls back to my side, the door opens and he's standing in front of me, eyes a stormy grey.

That can't be good.

"Ready?" he asks.

I nod, then bite my lip. "Is everything okay?"

In lieu of reply, he leans forward. Half a second later the duffel bag drops and my feet are off the ground, body is lifted and cradled between his arms. It's too fast for me to react, too quick for me to even take a breath.

"Let's get this over with," he mutters, the bag now secured on his back.

Tiny vibrations rumble in his chest when he speaks, absorbed into my side along with the subtle cold that seeps through his jacket. And yet, heat blossoms in my cheeks.

"Okay," I whisper, breathless. My body molds to his, so easily melting and relying on him. This must be how he carried me here—I wish I could remember it. I wonder how far away we are from the city, how he managed to carry me while I was half dead.

I wish I knew why he saved me that day. What he saw that was worth saving and bringing back here, to tend to himself. Though I've accepted a will to live, I still feel the need to prove my worth.

His fingers tighten, nails retracted and round, and the tender skin of his finger tips dip into the soft cotton over my thigh and bicep. "Have you thought of where you want to go? It could be anywhere."

For a moment I fantasize about asking to relocate to the other side of the world, to travel with him for as long as we can. To be held and safe and happy. I close my eyes, then snap myself out of fantasy and what if's.

"Is Bayport far enough?"

His jaw clenches. Butterflies flutter somewhere around my stomach. "Not going very far, are you?"

I don't answer.

He clicks the light off, plunging us in darkness before my eyes adjust to the faint glow of the moon. All I can sense is him, his slow movements as he carries me down the dark hall and through the living room, then finally out the front door.

No longer sheltered by a roof, above us the clouds from earlier have cleared and a sprinkling of stars look down through the treetops. We pause there, absorbing the moonlight. The sky. The scent of pine and the fluid movement of air. My heart calms.

"Levi," I barely speak his name, overcome with gratitude and yearning and the urge to turn my face into his neck, to ignore everything and everyone else.

"Hold on. Tight."

Air is knocked from my lungs, thoughts and emotions scattered in an instant as he takes off at inhuman speed. Wind whips through my hair and I curl into a ball.

Then, I'm weightless.

As free as water cascading from a high cliff, or morning dew collecting on a leaf. I can breathe, feel–exist without the pull of time. The night becomes a blur, even the few roads and street lights we pass so quickly that I hardly notice.

I found what I've needed all along. This, and nothing else.

Levi's arms hold me tight against him, and I feel confident. In one moment of sheer wholeness and impulse, I hold on a little tighter and reach out my arm.

I am alive.

I feel alive.

A menacing growl shoots from Levi's throat, and at the same time a sharp sting rips through my flesh. I cry out, retracting my arm as hot blood runs over my chilled skin.

Levi's grip tightens, chest heaving as he slows to a halt. "Dammit," he hisses.

"I..." My eyes dart away from his, examining the tear in my healing wound. "I didn't mean to."

"You were careless." He pushes me against a tree, the bark biting into my back as he lets go and walks a few paces away. The night cloaks him like a second skin, his form is barely visible.

Confusion knots my eyebrows. I didn't think my pain would mean as much to him. Or is it blood? That's never gotten to him before. The fact that I can't read his expression makes it worse, and doubles my guilt.

I bite my lip, head hanging down. After all he's done to help me heal, and now this. Our last night and I had to mess it up, if he still lets me leave.

He sighs and turns around. "Let me see."

I don't move, wary of his reaction. He pries my arm away from my chest, then places it back where it was.

Fabric tears, and he wraps a thin cloth around my wrist.

"Don't do it again."

I nod. My body is stiff and awkward as Levi picks me up again. He takes in a deep breath, having calmed down from whatever triggered him. "Are you okay?'

I nod again. "I'm fine."

His shoulders slump. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." I let my head fall against him, shutting out my desire to experience what he does, to run and see like he can. There's obviously so much I don't understand, will never get to know about him. I'll sit back and behave.

Without a word, he changes our position, rotating me so our chests align, and my legs automatically wrap around his waist. This is much better.

His hand settles on the nape of my neck, cool against my heated skin, and keeps my face tucked into his shoulder. I take a deep breath of the lavender and sage scent of his aftershave. If I can't fly, this comes as a close second.

"Don't hurt yourself," he mutters, and we start off again, the night darker and more foreboding than ever.

Someone's hangry.

❤️‍🩹 Siberia