CHAPTER 14: THE HUNT

Time flew, and before Sera knew it, she and Marla were standing in front of the wooden door of her cabin. The lake behind them shimmered beneath a blanket of white, the trees silent and still, like the whole forest was holding its breath.

"Are you ready for this?" Marla asked with a gentle smile. "Congratulations on your new home. I really hope it’s everything you dreamed."

"It is," Sera replied, her voice soft but certain. She ran her fingers over the grain of the door. "Thank you for helping me find it."

"It’s literally my job," Marla chuckled, handing over the keys. "But I have to admit, this one feels special."

They did a quick walkthrough, checking pipes, locks, windows, the small woodstove, and kitchenette. Everything was clean, just as it had been when they toured it last. After a brief goodbye and a warning about the icy backroads, Marla left.

The sound of her tires crunching away faded quickly.

And for the first time in weeks, Sera let out a full breath.

She hadn’t brought much—just an air mattress, a few blankets, a bag of clothes, and enough food to get through the next couple of days—but for now, it was enough. She’d get the rest later. Maybe beg someone for a ride. Maybe not. The idea of anyone knowing where she was made her skin crawl.

The cabin was small, warm, and tucked neatly into the woods like it had grown there.

And it was hers.

She unrolled the mattress in front of the tiny woodstove, set up her blankets, and lit the first fire using the matches the former owner had left behind. The glow settled across the cabin walls like the world was finally exhaling with her.

She sat in silence, her knees pulled to her chest. The silence seemed to stretch forever, but silence didn’t always mean safety.

In fact, the quieter it was around her, the more the creature inside her stirred, demanding to be let out. It had never liked silence.

She stood slowly, wrapping herself in a dark hoodie and stepping outside. The snow was falling again, light this time, like sifted flour dusting the trees. A thin crust had formed over the old snowbanks, cracking with each step as she walked deeper into the woods.

She didn’t bring a flashlight. She didn’t need one.

Not anymore.

The farther she walked, the less she recognized herself. Her heartbeat slowed. Her vision sharpened. She already knew that the cold didn’t bother her, that it no longer had the bite it once had. But right now, she was practically overheating, even with the little clothing that she wore.

Picking up the pace, she moved faster, slipping between the trees, her feet barely touching the snow. A dark blur in the moonlight.

She didn’t know when she started running.

It was like something unfurled inside her—an old instinct, older than hunger, older than language. Something wild that whispered through her bones: Run. Hunt. Feed.

Branches tore past her, too slow to scratch her skin. She jumped, clearing fallen logs like they were nothing. The wind hissed past her ears, and still she moved faster.

She didn’t even realize she’d leapt until she landed in a tree ten feet up from the ground. The balls of her feet were perfectly balanced on a limb, like she was standing on solid ground. Even after all that effort, she wasn’t breathing hard. In fact, she was barely breathing at all.

Sera crouched low, her pupils dilating as her nose flared, catching a scent in the wind.

Blood. Faint, but fresh. Her ears didn’t even have to strain as it picked up the sound of a heartbeat in the distance.

Her head snapped toward the east, and she dropped to the forest floor without a sound.

She moved like something not quite human. Her muscles didn’t burn. Her breath didn’t catch. Her feet barely left tracks in the snow.

And then she saw it.

A deer. Alone. Its head dipped low to drink from the unfrozen edge of a stream. Big. Healthy. No clue it was being watched.

Her body tensed. And before her mind could catch up, she lunged.

A single leap. One breath.

The forest didn’t even have time to shudder, and the deer hadn’t even flinched before she was on it.

The deer didn’t cry out or even lift its head from the water before she snapped its spine on impact, dragging it into the snow with a dull, wet thud. Her hands moved without thought, tearing through flesh, splitting the chest cavity like paper. Warm blood spilled over her sleeves, hot against her frozen skin.

Then she was holding the heart. Still pulsing. Still warm. And she was biting into it.

The first tear of meat sent heat through her limbs. She chewed slowly, like it mattered. Like she was still human.

But she wasn’t, not fully at least.

When the last bite slid down her throat, something inside of her seemed to purr in contentment.

That was when it hit her.

The hunger was gone.

That brutal, aching hunger that had lived in her gut for as long as she could remember. The one that had made her shake in her sleep, bite the inside of her cheeks raw, claw at her sheets when no one was watching. It was quiet now.

Finally, it was sated with everything it needed.

And for a second, that silence was more terrifying than the craving.

Seraphina stared down at her hands, red to the wrist. Her hoodie was soaked through. Her boots were dripping.

The deer lay beneath her, stomach torn open. A gaping hole where its heart used to be.

Steam rose from the carcass, mixing with the slow drift of snow.

And then came the nausea.

Not from the kill, but from knowing that she was never going to be the same after this moment.

Part of her wanted to finish; it demanded that she return to the meal laid out in front of her and continue to gorge until she couldn’t any more.

Her stomach clenched, rebelling just enough to send her stumbling away from the carcass. She fell to her knees in the snow, heaving once, twice. But nothing came up. Her body had already absorbed the warmth. The blood. The meat.

She sat there, panting, until the world stopped spinning.

Then she stood.

Taking in a deep breath, she knelt beside the deer, her head cocked to the side as she studied it. The human part of her wanted to run away in terror, but the creature inside of her demanded that she continue to eat.

So, she compromised. She didn’t run back. Instead, she bent down and picked up the massive 600lb deer and flung it over her shoulder like it was a sack of potatoes.

Turning around the way she came, she walked back to the cabin with measured steps.

The creature, content, let her do what she wanted, knowing that it was going to be fed as long as the deer was coming home with them.

When she reached the cabin, the sky had started to lighten, casting pale silver over the frozen lake.

Dropping the deer beside the back steps, she stepped inside, peeled off her hoodie, and found the biggest knife she could. Then, she went back outside and started learning how to process the meat that she had hunted and killed.