Page 51 of A Hunger Soft and Wild

With a sharp inhale, she lunges.

The blade sinks deep into his side, between the dark armor, buried up to the hilt.

He chokes on a gasp, eyes going wide.

So do hers.

And then the blood comes.

A flood of it, warm and thick and real, soaking through the dark fabric of his tunic.

Aria’s whole body jolts. She stares at the wound, at the way his blood coats her hands, staining her fingers. Her breath comes in short, uneven gasps.

The enforcer stumbles, but doesn’t fall.

He turns on her, a snarl twisting his lips. “You little bitch.”

I don’t let him take another step. I knock him back hard. The blade slides out and his body crumples against the forest floor, gasping, bleeding out.

The remaining two try to rally, but they’re already lost. They should’ve run when they had the chance.

I move fast, brutal, efficient. A blade finds its home between ribs. The last one tries to flee—I don’t let him.

And just like that, it’s over.

Five bodies, motionless beneath the canopy. The scent of blood heavy in the air.

Silence.

I turn to Aria.

She’s still holding the knife.

Her chest heaves, fingers trembling around the hilt. The enforcer at her feet has stopped moving.

She’s still staring at the blood.

“Aria,” I say carefully.

She blinks, then looks up. Something in her eyes has changed.

Her lips part like she wants to say something—but then, instead, she drops the knife. It clatters against the dirt, the sound oddly loud in the sudden quiet.

I step forward and catch her wrist before she can turn away.

“You did what you had to do.” My voice is quieter than I expect.

Her jaw clenches. Her free hand curls into a fist. “I—”

Her breath stutters.

I don’t let go.

She swallows, and then finally—finally—nods.

“We need to go,” I say, voice still low.

She nods again, eyes lingering on the bodies.

---