<h4>Chapter 97: Blood trails</h4>


    <strong>*~ Hazel’s POV ~*</strong>


    I finally found an idea..one risky, desperate idea to signal my presence to whoever might still be searching for me. But I knew it would only work if Cyrius either stepped out or fell asleep. I had to wait. Timing was everything.


    The deer meat was done, a bowl of it handed to me like I was some willing participant in this twisted little survival dance. I forced it down. Christian started crying again, his little whimpers slicing through the heavy silence of the hut. I dropped the bowl and rushed to him.


    "He needs fresh air," Cyrius’s voice rang behind me, calm but irritating. "The heat from the fire is getting to him."


    I scoffed. "Why do you act like you know my children better than I do?"


    But Christian kept crying..louder, harder. And then, as if on cue, Heather’s soft whimper joined in, building into a wail. My eyes snapped to him, and there it was that devilish smirk that always made me want to p the arrogance right off his stupidly beautiful face.


    "So what?" I snapped, trying to cradle both babies at once. "I can’t step outside. How am I supposed to help them?"


    He rose slowly, that infuriating confidence wrapped around his body like armor. "Bring them," he said simply.


    I hesitated, then gave in, passing the twins into his arms. He took them out the door like the barrier meant nothing to him. I remained behind, still trapped inside the invisible cage that wouldn’t let me cross the threshold. Even outside, the babies were still crying.


    And then he said, "I guess you want the special."


    He smiled. And then, he sang.


    I blinked. I thought I was hallucinating. But no his voice, , filled the air with a luby so soft and perfect that even the wind seemed to still. Fireflies gathered around him as I saw Heathers hand trying to catch them,


    Christian stopped crying first. Then Heather. Their bodies rxed against him, their faces turned up like flowers chasing sunlight. He sang like he’d done it a thousand times, and I had to see for myself. I crept to the door, pressing my hand against the threshold that still refused to let me pass.


    There he was. His back turned to me. Holding my babies as his voice poured out into the night. The cold, ice-cube ache in my chest melted just a little. I didn’t want it to, but it did. I softened.


    He finished the song and turned around slowly. The babies were asleep.


    I scoffed, hugging the doorway. "My babies are asleep," I murmured, more to myself.


    He walked in and gently handed them over. "Anything for you, wife."


    I didn’t correct him. My throat clenched at the word, but I let it slide this time. Heid down on his side of the room. I did the same, pretending to rest—but I didn’t close my eyes once.


    I stayed awake. Watching. Listening. Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes into hours.


    Until finally, there was silence. No breath from him. No movement. Nothing.


    I rose from where Iid, gently setting my babies down. I crept to the entrance and ced my hand against it. Still couldn’t cross. Thepulsion was too strong. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t do something.


    He didn’t say I couldn’t mark something. Or slide something outside.


    First, I brought down my earrings..the ones Caspian had given me on our wedding day. They had been part of the gift box he prepared so lovingly, all wrapped in soft velvet and scented with his cologne. I had worn them that day I figured I’m pregnant. Now, they were a beacon. Something anything—to remind him of me.


    Carefully, I held one earring between my fingers, took a deep breath, and tossed it. It flew past the threshold andnded softly outside. I watched it, heart pounding. It worked. The barrier didn’t block it.


    A smirk crept onto my face, but it vanished quickly. That wouldn’t be enough. Not even close. It was just an earring. By the time Caspianor Cayden found it, if they ever did, Cyrius would have already moved us. I needed to do more. Something primal. Something they couldn’t ignore.


    They’d both marked me..Caspian and Cayden. That meant they could smell me. Or at the very least, track my blood.


    So I did the unthinkable.


    I reached for the old clothes Cyrius had given me, the ones I wore before the firelight had stolen the scent from my skin. Then, exactly the way he’d shown me during our tense survival lessons, I took a sharp piece of broken bone, held my breath, and dragged it across the inside of my forearm.


    A thin line of blood surfaced.


    My jaw clenched at the sting, but I ignored the pain. With the little magic I could still ess..faint, flickering, and wild..I guided the droplets, flinging my blood outward. Toward the trees. The wind. My scent painted the foliage like a desperate message written in red.


    I kept going, scattering the blood further and further, until...


    Cyrius shivered.


    I froze.


    His body stirred and his eyes fluttered open. "What’s that smell?" he muttered, voice groggy at first, then sharpened with rm. "Are you injured?"


    He rushed to my side before I could hide the wound, his fingers already reaching for my hand. "What happened?" he asked, eyes scanning the cut.


    "I was slicing the deer," I said quickly. "Didn’t realize I nicked myself."


    He narrowed his eyes, lips pursed, but didn’t question it. "Goddammit, Hazel..."


    He stepped outside for a moment and returned with herbs..wet, leafy things he ground together with his palm and a smooth rock. He pressed the paste against my cut, binding it with a strip of cloth he tore from his own shirt.


    "You haven’t fully activated your wolf," he muttered, his voice low. "So your healing’s still slow. It’ll take hours. You must be in a lot of pain."


    I shrugged, but didn’t speak.


    Cyrius sniffed the air again, and this time his entire posture stiffened. "Your smell is everywhere," he hissed, eyes scanning the door as if expecting someone to burst in. "We’ll have to move. Soon."


    He nodded to himself, as if confirming it aloud. "I doubt they’ll find this ce... but if any of them are near—Caspian, Cayden, even that damn Luna’s seer—they’ll catch wind of this."


    I tried to speak, to reason, to maybe beg.


    "Cyrius..."


    But he cut me off gently, cing a hand over my lips.


    "I know what you’re about to say. But it’s not possible," he said, eyes searching mine, almost... soft. "I can’t let you go. Not again. You, and them... you’re my family now. My own family betrayed me. Left me. But you’re here. You and those kids."


    His voice cracked faintly, but he caught it before it fell.


    "Go back to sleep," he whispered.


    But I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t. I justy there, praying. Hoping. Pleading silently into the darkness that Caspian or Cayden, someonewould follow my blood trail before Cyrius sniffs out their presence first.


    <i>Time was running out.</i>


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