66

APRILS POV
The town was quiet, but not for long. The moon hung high above, casting pale light across the dark streets. The rogues had just stepped out of the bar, their voices low, plotting whatever madness they had in mind. But I knew one thing for certain: letting them slink away into the night, planning Goddess-knows-what, wasn’t an option. They wouldn’t stop-men like that never did. If I waited, it would only give them the upper hand.
“They think they’re hunting us,” Snow’s voice rumbled in my mind, low and dark, almost eager. “Let’s show them how wrong they are.”
A surge of energy shot through me at her words. Snow wasn’t afraid of a fight-she craved it. She was a fierce creature, born for survival and battle, and she wasn’t one to let threats linger.
“I’m not waiting for them to come back,” I whispered under my breath, my voice thick with determination. My hand gripped the door of the bar, locking it behind me. “We take the fight to them.”
Snow growled in approval, the sound vibrating through my chest as I moved.
I took the stairs two at a time to my apartment above the bar, every step precise, and mechanical. My movements were like muscle memory-calm, controlled, and ready. My weapons were hidden in a false panel under my bed. A small collection-silver knife, collapsible crossbow, and a few vials of wolfsbane-my tools of survival in a world where predator and prey blurred too often.
“This won’t take long,” I murmured to myself as I strapped the knife to my thigh, slipping the crossbow over my shoulder.
“They won’t see it coming,” Snow replied, her voice savage. “But we will. We always do.”
After one last look at my reflection in the cracked mirror by the door-bloody knuckles, a faint smear of dirt on my cheek, eyes glowing faintly in the dim light-I slipped out into the night.
The cool night air hit my face as I stepped into the alley behind the bar. The streets were quieter now, the earlier noise replaced by an eerie silence that made everything feel too still.
I caught their scent immediately-a mix of sweat, alcohol, and something rancid. It clung to the air like a taunt, leading me toward the forest edge.
“They’re trying to disappear,” Snow noted, her voice sharp with disdain.
“Too bad for them we’re better at this,” I muttered under my breath as I picked up my pace, boots silent against the pavement.
The closer I got to the woods, the sharper Snow’s presence became in my mind. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig-nothing escaped my senses.
The rogues had stopped just inside the treeline. I could hear their voices now, low and conspiratorial.
“Think she knows what we’re planning?” one of them said, his tone gruff.
“Doesn’t matter,” another replied. “She’ll be dead soon enough.”
Snow snarled, anger flooding through me like wildfire.
“Let’s see who ends up dead,” I growled under my breath.
I stayed hidden in the shadows, studying them-three rogues in a loose circle, arguing about something I didn’t care to hear. My focus wasn’t on their words but on their movements, their weapons, their weaknesses.
Snow, my wolf, rumbled in the depths of my mind, urging me forward. She craved the hunt, the chase, the bloodshed. And I was more than willing to oblige. The thrill of the chase sent a shiver through me, the familiar rush of adrenaline that sharpened every sense, made every step feel lighter, quicker.
I’d been waiting for this. They’d come into my bar, threatened me, and tried to make me a victim. But I wasn’t just any prey. I was a hunter. And tonight, I was making them regret underestimating me.
I didn’t waste time thinking. I moved quickly, sliding through the shadows, my boots light against the damp ground. As I crept closer, the sound of their voices reached my ears. They were cocky, unaware of the predator closing in on them.
I dropped low, hiding in the darkness, waiting. My breath came in slow, measured intervals. I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my chest, but it wasn’t from fear. It was the thrill of the hunt. Snow was practically vibrating with excitement beneath the surface, her instincts clawing to get out.
The first rogue came into view. He was alone, or so he thought. I moved before he could react, a blur of motion. A single, clean strike-my blade buried deep in his throat. The gurgle of blood was the only sound he made as he crumpled to the ground. I didn’t flinch. There was no room for hesitation.
The second rogue turned just in time to see the aftermath. His eyes widened in surprise, and he fumbled for a weapon. It was too late. My knife found his side, a swift, precise blow. He gasped, but I didn’t let him scream. Another slash, and he fell. He never had a chance.
The last rogue tried to run. Fear had finally caught up with him, but it was too late. I was faster. I caught him in an alley corner, my hands gripping his throat, my claws cutting into the skin. His struggles were weak and desperate, but they couldn’t save him. His life ended with a strangled breath, his body crumpling in my grip.
Snow growled inside me, but it wasn’t out of anger. It was the satisfaction of knowing I could always handle my own.
The quiet returned to the night, but it was different now. The streets were still, but I could feel the pulse of victory in my veins. I had handled it well. No more threats. No more fear.
I stood over their bodies, heart pounding, but there was no fear. Just satisfaction. Snow purred in the back of my mind, her presence a comforting warmth.
I took a deep breath and wiped the blood from my hands, the weight of the moment pressing in on me. My mind cleared as I turned away, heading back to the bar. There was more work to do. The mess they left had to be cleaned. And I wasn’t about to leave a trace behind.
The bar, once a place of refuge, now felt like a battlefield. Blood splattered across the floor, the broken glass a testament to the violence that had occurred. I moved methodically, cleaning up the remnants of the fight. But even as I wiped down the counters and righted the tables, a sense of unease settled over me. It wasn’t just the blood-it was something else, something I couldn’t shake.
And then the door opened.
Cassius stood in the doorway, the faint light from the street casting a glow around him. His gaze locked onto mine instantly, his expression darkening as he took in the scene. The blood on my clothes. The tension in the air.
“April?” His voice was quiet, but there was an undercurrent of concern.
I froze, the mop in my hands stilling for a moment as I met his gaze. My heart skipped a beat-not from fear, but from the sudden, unexpected weight of his presence.
Had I forgotten to lock the door?
“Cassius,” I said, forcing the words past the tightness in my throat. “What are you doing here?”
He stepped into the bar, his eyes scanning the room with a practiced assessment. “I could ask you the same thing,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with an edge of worry. His gaze fell on the blood that stained my clothes, the streaks on my arms. He took a step closer. “What happened?”
I glanced down at myself, the blood from the rogues still fresh, dripping from my hands as I wiped them on my pants. “Just… a long night,” I said, forcing a lightness into my voice that didn’t reach my eyes. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
His eyes narrowed, clearly unconvinced. “Don’t give me that,” he said, his voice firm as he crossed the room to stand in front of me. He reached out, gently taking my wrist, stopping me mid-movement. “You’re hurt. And this-” He gestured to the mess around us. “This isn’t nothing. Talk to me, April.”
I pulled my wrist free, stepping back with a sigh. “It’s not your problem,” I muttered, my voice a little too sharp.
“It is if you’re in danger,” he said quietly, but there was something protective in his tone, something that made my chest tighten.
I laughed, but it came out bitter, hollow. “Danger is part of the job description, remember?” I said, turning away from him to busy myself with the mess. It felt like the only thing I could do to escape the heaviness of his gaze.
Cassius stepped closer, his presence warm and steady behind me. “April…” he said again, his voice softer now, filled with an unspoken plea.
I took a shaky breath. “They came looking for me. Rogues,” I explained, my voice barely above a whisper. “The same ones causing trouble around here.”
His eyes darkened, a low growl rising in his chest. “And you dealt with them alone?”
“I didn’t have a choice,” I replied, my voice flat. “They weren’t going to stop.”
Cassius’ expression softened, but his jaw tightened. “You didn’t have to do this alone. You could’ve called me.”
I turned to face him, my heart racing as I met his gaze. “There was no time for that and plus I can handle myself,” I snapped, but it felt like a lie the moment it left my mouth.
“I know you can,” he said, his tone gentle but insistent. “But that doesn’t mean you have to.”
For a long moment, we stood in silence, the weight of the night settling between us. I could feel the exhaustion pulling at me, the adrenaline finally fading.
“Come on,” he said, his voice softer now. “Let me help you clean up.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the weariness in my bones made me nod instead. Together, we worked in silence, the mess slowly being cleared away. As we did, the tension began to ease, replaced by something quieter, something I couldn’t name.
When the last of the glass was swept away and the tables were set upright again, Cassius leaned against the bar, watching me with an unreadable expression.
“You’re incredible, you know that?” he said quietly, his voice filled with a sincerity that caught me off guard.
I snorted, trying to shake off the weight of his words. “For what? Making a mess and cleaning it up?”
“For surviving,” he said simply, his gaze steady.
For a moment, I couldn’t speak, his words sinking in deeper than I expected. I turned away, my heart thudding in my chest.
“Thanks,” I muttered, trying to regain control of myself.
Before I could move away, he caught my hand, his touch warm and steady.
“April.”
I looked up, my breath catching in my throat.
“You don’t have to do this alone,” he said again, his eyes searching mine, his voice a quiet promise.
And for the first time in a long time, I let myself believe him.