Chapter 90: Better The Devil I Know

Chapter 90: Better The Devil I Know CLARE – POV I never in my life thought I’d be happy—genuinely, bone-deep happy—to see a vampire. But the second that branch snapped below me, and I peered over the gnarled edge of the branch I was hiding on, my heart almost leapt out of my chest... until I met his eyes. Blaze. Tall. Furious. Barely holding back the murderous rage written in every line of his body. And yet, the moment he saw me, something in his expression cracked. Like the only thing tethering him to reason was me. Yeah. That face. That ’I’m about to rip someone’s spine out and floss with it’ face. And still—I felt relief. Pure, messy, terrified relief. Better the devil I know than a forest full of snarling wolf-men with power complexes and fangs. Blaze might be possessive, dangerous, and emotionally chaotic, but he hadn’t tried to eat me yet. That was a win in my current tally. He scaled the tree like some undead version of Spider-Man, not even using all the obvious footholds, just... climbing. Fast. Smooth. Predatory. I didn’t even have time to gasp before he reached my branch, scooped me up like some gothic Disney princess, and whoosh—he was gone. Speed. God, the speed. It was like riding a motorcycle strapped to a rocket, shooting through shadows and leaves and air that cracked with wind. My arms flew around his neck out of sheer instinct, legs clamping around his waist like I was on a freaking carnival ride from hell. It took everything in me not to scream. Branches whipped past us. The forest blurred. I caught flashes of wolves darting through the trees below—howling, snarling, searching—but they never even got close. We hit the edge of the cliff and I swear to every higher power I might’ve ignored until now, I saw my death. Sharp rocks. Endless drop. Trees spearing the sky far, far below. I opened my mouth to shout—Wait! No! You’re not that crazy! But the stupid vampire jumped. JUMPED. I couldn’t even scream. My soul left my body, filed a resignation letter, and ghosted off into the night. For a second, I was floating—weightless, breathless—absolutely convinced I was about to become human jelly splattered across vampire territory. But we didn’t die. We landed hard, rolling in a controlled crash that somehow didn’t break every bone in my body. Blaze absorbed most of the impact, his arms tight around me. His breath came in short bursts, not quite winded, but clearly drained. I clung to him like a deranged tree koala, blinking up at the canopy as it swayed above us. For a moment, the silence was deafening. No howls. No shrieks. Just... wind and the sound of my thundering heartbeat in my ears. He did it. The bastard did it. We were over the border. Out of the Hunt. Alive. My brain was still buffering, running at half capacity. The moment I let go of him, I flopped onto the grass like a scarecrow that had been through a war zone. "Holy shit," I croaked. Blaze didn’t respond right away. He just crouched beside me, chest rising and falling fast, eyes locked on me like he expected me to combust at any second. I could see the tension in him—his control, tight and coiled. His lips were pale. His fangs had dropped. That’s when it hit me: He’s hungry. And we’d just jumped across a cliff, escaped a pack of werewolves, and I was bleeding from a sprained ankle and about fifteen scratches. I was a walking Happy Meal. He was breathing hard. His hands were shaking slightly, just at the fingertips. His eyes flicked to my throat and back up. My entire soul paused. Oh hell. Here we go. I tried to tell myself not to panic. Blaze wouldn’t kill me. He was obsessed with me in that weird, broody way. Still. He was a vampire. He had instincts. I was injured. And I wasn’t exactly in the mental headspace for a blood donation. "Don’t," I whispered, voice barely there. His eyes narrowed. "Don’t what?" "Don’t look at me like that. Like I’m... food." To my surprise, something in his expression gentled. He let out a slow breath, reaching up with a steady hand and brushing a lock of hair from my dirt-streaked face. The gesture was strangely human. Gentle. Almost... tender. "I’m not going to drink from you, Clause," he said, voice low and certain. "Not now. Not like this." I blinked up at him, trying to process that statement. "You’re not?" "No." His eyes held mine with heat and conviction. "You’re not prey. Not to me." A shiver ran through me—not from fear, but something else. Maybe relief. Maybe exhaustion. Maybe the stupidly confusing tangle of whatever the hell this was between us. "We’re not safe yet," Blaze murmured, glancing over his shoulder toward the forest. "But we have time." He looked back down at me, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I saw something soft in his eyes. Relief. Concern. Maybe even... hope? That was it. That was the moment the weight of everything hit me like a truck. The ugly little people. The prison cell. The wolves. The hunt. Reed’s face in the flames. Blaze’s fury. The jump. The blood. The madness. I let out a hysterical, hiccuping laugh and slumped back on the grass. "Cool," I muttered. "Awesome. Its official am in a house of horror. Just another day of absolute hell." But Blaze only gave a small, tired smirk. "You’re still breathing." "For now," I shot back. His smile widened. "Then I did my job." And weirdly, impossibly... I believed him. ******* "Let’s make things clear—" Blaze’s voice slammed into the air like a blade. I flinched. "—you are absolutely not allowed to go five feet away from my fucking presence." He came out of nowhere—one second I was sitting there trying to collect the scattered shreds of my sanity, and the next, he was pacing in front of me like a caged soldier right before a war he didn’t want to fight. I blinked up at him, still half-sprawled on the ground. "Excuse me?" "I’m not asking, Clause." He jabbed a finger toward the treeline, his coat flaring with the motion. "You don’t get to vanish into goddamn werewolf territory and almost get slaughtered like some—some—" "Like some human?" I offered, eyebrows raised. He stopped dead in his tracks. His jaw clenched so hard I could practically hear his fangs grinding. "You fucking don’t understand," he hissed, stalking closer. "I felt it. Every ounce of your fear, every scream you bit back, every bruise they laid on you—I felt it like it was carved into my own bones." I tried to push myself up, but my ankle gave a sharp throb and I winced. Blaze was at my side instantly, crouching, hands hovering—but not touching. That weird tension again. Like he was scared one wrong move would shatter me. Or maybe scare him. "I didn’t exactly plan the moonlight jog through hell, if you’re wondering," I muttered. "I escaped. I got out." "You barely got out," he snapped. "You’re bleeding. Limping. You climbed a tree like a damned squirrel and nearly broke your neck trying to stay alive." "Would you rather I didn’t try?" I bit back. "Maybe I should’ve just curled up and waited to be ripped apart like the rest of the poor bastards in that cell?" His eyes flared—actual glowing red, a flicker like fire behind his pupils. "Don’t joke about that." "I’m not." We stared at each other, breath tangled in the dark, something between fury and fear crackling in the space between us. Then he exhaled and sat back on his heels, raking a hand through his dark hair. For the first time since he arrived, he looked tired. Not just physically—soul-deep tired. Like rage was the only thing keeping him upright. "I crossed a death-marked border for you," he said quietly, voice hoarse. "Do you understand what that means?" My throat tightened. "Blaze..." "They would kill me if they found out. My own kind. Doesn’t matter if I’m royalty. Doesn’t matter if I’m ancient or strong or if I have a throne soaked in blood—I broke the Law." I looked away, ashamed. "I didn’t ask you to do that." "No. But I had to." His hand finally touched mine—light, burning cold. "Because I couldn’t feel you die wouldn’t allow it." My heart gave a traitorous lurch. I swallowed hard, blinking up at him. "So what now?" Blaze’s expression hardened. "Now you stay close. No more running off. No more near-death heroics. You don’t step ten feet near someone with a pulse who wants to rip out your throats." "Bit extreme." "I’m a vampire," he growled. "Extreme is kind of my brand." I smirked. "So what, you want me to wear a leash now?" He leaned in, slow and dangerous, his mouth by my ear. "Don’t tempt me, little pet." My cheeks flamed—equal parts fury and something far more inconvenient. I shoved his shoulder. "You’re such a drama queen." "And you’re lucky I didn’t chain you to a damn tree when I found you." His voice was teasing, but beneath it, I heard the quake—the unspoken truth. He was scared. Terrified. And this wasn’t just about rules, or territory, or control. This was about me. So I didn’t argue anymore. I just looked at him—really looked—and whispered, "Okay." He blinked. "Okay?" "No more out of your sight," I said softly. "Five feet. Got it." He studied me, as if trying to figure out if I meant it. Then he nodded, once. And for the first time since the forest swallowed me whole, I saw the edge of his panic loosen. He stood slowly, offering his hand. "Come on," he murmured. "Let’s get you the hell out of here before Reed or the wolves sniff out where I crossed."