Page 11 of Garden of Ashes & Hope

She jogs to catch up, Vincent cradled in her arms. "Sorry," she says, slightly out of breath. "I just got excited about all the plants we're seeing. There's so much life out here, even after everything that's happened."

I grunt in response, unsure how to react to her enthusiasm. Part of me wants to encourage it - her knowledge has proven useful more than once. But another part sees it as a potential weakness.

"Just stay alert," I say finally. "Plants won't save you from a demon attack."

Eve's face falls slightly, but she nods. "I know. I'm trying to be more aware, like you taught me."

I notice she's holding herself differently now, more upright, her eyes darting around in a pale imitation of my own vigilance. Even Vincent is getting into it, his whiskers and tail pointed, eyes darting around.

It's a small change, but a noticeable one.

Despite myself, I feel a flicker of pride.

"Your mentality is improving," I admit grudgingly. "Keep it up."

Her face lights up at the meager praise, and I have to look away.

These... feelings... they're dangerous. A distraction we can't afford.

"Mordakus?" Eve's voice breaks into my thoughts. "Can I ask you something?"

I tense, wary of personal questions. "What is it?"

"Where did you learn to fight like that?"

The question hits too close to home, stirring up memories I'd rather forget. "It doesn't matter," I say curtly. "Focus on the present."

Eve sighs, frustration evident in her voice. "I'm just trying to understand you better. We're in this together, aren't we?"

Her words spark an unexpected surge of anger. "We're not 'in this together,'" I snap. "I'm keeping you alive because you’re my prisoner. Don't mistake that for friendship."

The hurt in Eve's eyes is immediate and deep.

She falls silent, hugging Vincent closer.

I know I should apologize, but the words stick in my throat.

It's better this way, I tell myself.

Safer.

We walk in tense silence for hours, the sun slowly sinking towards the horizon. Just as I'm about to suggest we find shelter for the night, a sound catches my attention. Voices carried on the wind.

I hold up a hand, signaling Eve to stop. "Stay here," I whisper. "I'm going to check it out."

Creeping forward, I peer over a ridge. In the valley below, a small group of survivors has set up camp. They're armed, and from their postures and the way they handle their weapons, I can tell they're dangerous.

I'm about to retreat when I hear a scream. One of the survivors has spotted Eve, who must have followed me despite my instructions.

Everything happens in a blur. The survivors charge towards us, weapons raised. I feel a familiar heat rising within me, a primal urge I've long struggled to contain.

"Eve, stay back!" I growl, my voice deepening as I feel the change begin. There’s too many of them.

Twelve. Thirteen. Fifteen.

The first attacker reaches me, and something inside me snaps. My vision goes red, and I feel my body shifting, growing stronger, more bestial. I'm dimly aware of my horns elongating, my skin hardening into scales.

I meet the first attacker head-on, my now clawed hand easily deflecting his makeshift weapon. With a roar that's more animal than human, I grab him by the throat. His eyes widen in terror as he sees my transformed face. I squeeze, feeling his windpipe collapse under my grip, before tossing him aside like a rag doll.

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