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“I’ll manage,” I start to lie—but the look she gives me stops the words mid-air.

“No,” she says, not unkindly, but firm. “Real answer, Aria. Don’t give me the version meant to keep me comfortable. I’m not some wide-eyed farm girl you’re gonna scare off.”

A beat.

My defenses rattle in their cage. Slowly, I let out a breath. “It’s not… it’s not that I’m about to lose control.” I pause. “But it’s worse when I’m injured. Healing drains energy. And that hunger—it gets loud.” I close my eyes briefly. “I haven’t fed since… before I ran. Not properly. Ithurts.”

There. That’s the truth.

She nods, like she’s fitting it into a map in her head. “Okay,” she says, and I see the worry soften just slightly at the edges. “So… animal blood helps?”

“Helps,” I echo. “Doesn’t fix it. But yes. Better than starving.” My voice drops. “I don’t feed on humans. Not unless—” I stop. “Not unless I have to.”

Her posture eases, just a little. “Alright.” Then, after a beat, her brow quirks. “So… rabbit?”

I blink.

She’s serious.

And suddenly I can’t help it—a soft laugh escapes me, breathless and stunned. Of all the reactions I’d imagined, this wasn’t one of them. “Yeah,” I murmur. “Rabbit might actually do the trick.”

Roan gives a satisfied nod, like she’s already planning her next trap. Like this is normal.

Like I’m not a monster.

She glances toward the treeline like she’s measuring the distance between here and wherever the nearest rabbit might be hiding.

“I’ll see if I can find something,” she says, adjusting the strap of her pack and rolling one shoulder. “You rest. Try not to move too much, or that shoulder’ll split open again.”

She turns halfway, then pauses, gaze flicking to me. “Anything I should be on the lookout for?” she asks, tone light—but it’s not casual at all. Her fingers hover near the hilt of her sword. “I mean… if someone’s still hunting you, I’d rather not walk straight into them.”

The question stills the breath in my lungs.

I lower my gaze to the fire, watching a coal collapse inward, glowing briefly before it dulls. “Yes,” I murmur, the word scraping past my throat. “They’re hunting me.”

“Hunters?” she asks.

If only it were that simple.

I force myself to meet her eyes. “It wasn’t hunters that did this,” I say, nodding toward my bandaged shoulder. “It was… my clan. I left them. And they didn’t take it well.”

Roan stiffens, the way people do when they hear something worse than expected. Her jaw tightens, a muscle twitching along her cheek. “Your clan?” she echoes. “You mean…”

“Vampires,” I finish for her, voice brittle. “My family.”

She’s silent for a beat too long.

“Hells,” she mutters, low and rough. “That’s…a lot.”

I look away, memories gnawing at the edges of my mind—the sharp teeth of betrayal, the shadows of faces I once called kin. “They don’t take kindly to deserters,” I murmur, my voice tight. I’m not ready to spill the rest of the details—that I’d grown disgusted by the clan’s brutality, or that my own mother had me cornered in a courtyard with her loyal guards. “And they’re not going to stop looking for me.”

She purses her lips, exhaling a slow breath. “Sounds messy.”

I huff a bitter laugh. “That’s one way of putting it.”

Her eyes narrow slightly. “And they’re still looking for you?”

“Yes.” I glance toward the treeline, heart ticking up. “They’ll send enforcers, but most are night-bound. Turned. I slipped them—for now. But they’re relentless. And I know my mother. She’ll send everything she has until I’m dragged back or dead.”