“Onyx, quiet,” Jaxson whispered, his voice low but firm. He rested a steadying hand on her nose, and when she looked at him, something passed between them, like a silent understanding. She lowered herself to the ground, yet her body remained coiled as if she instinctively knew we were hiding.

Jaxson yanked me down beside him as he crouched behind a fallen log. The rough bark scraped against my arms as I pressed myself against it, trying to shrink into the shadows and make myself as small as possible.

“This’ll have to do.” Peering over the log, Jaxson scanned the shadows along the trail we’d just come from. Then, with a glance in my direction, he said, “Stay quiet.”

I nodded, swallowing hard as I fought to steady my ragged breaths. My chest burned with every sharp, painful inhale, and it felt like my heart might tear itself free from my ribs. Clamping a hand over my mouth, I forced myself to stay silent.

“Onyx,” Jaxson whispered, his hand brushing along the dog’s back. “Quiet.”

Onyx let out a low, reluctant huff, and her tail dipped between her legs before she pressed herself low to the ground beside me. I prayed she understood.

The bushes rustled along the trail, and I froze.

Voices carried through the air, drifting in the wind. My entire body went rigid, every muscle locking in place as my heart slammed against my ribs. My pulse was so loud, I worried Onyx could hear it thundering.

The voices were rough and low, their words indistinct but unmistakable. My stomach dropped like a stone.

Shit! They’re close.

Jaxson’s body went rigid beside me, and his hand tightened around Onyx’s collar as he crouched lower. He stayed just high enough to peer over the log with his eyes fixed on the gaps in the bushes.

I followed his gaze, and my breath caught in my throat .

Three figures emerged through the undergrowth, their dark silhouettes outlined by the faint orange glow of the fire behind them. They moved quickly, their heads swiveling side to side as they scanned the bushes with their rifles slung across their chests.

Holding my breath, I pressed myself harder against the log, and the rough bark dug into my back.

If they see us, they’ll open fire.

Two of them had flashlights, and their beams carved through the darkness like machetes, sweeping across the bushes in wide, slow arcs that came dangerously close to where we were hiding.

As my heart thundered in my chest, I bit down on my lip to stifle the fear clawing up my throat.

One of the men spoke in the same language as the earlier attackers, his voice gruff and low.

Another man responded, his tone sharp with frustration.

I didn’t understand what they were saying, but their anger was unmistakable. The flashlight beams swung erratically, slicing through the bushes and along the trail as they searched.

The light grazed the edge of the log we were hiding behind. My breath hitched, and every muscle in my body locked up.

The man at the back stared right at me, and I froze. Fear ripped up my spine. My breath jammed in my throat. Then he shifted his gaze away, and I just about imploded.

Beside me, Jaxson’s hand tightened on Onyx’s collar. His other hand clamped onto my arm, warm, steady, and reassuring. But beneath that calm, tension radiated from him. His entire body was coiled tight, like a spring about to snap. If they found us, he was ready to fight.

I shifted my footing, bracing myself. If he was going to attack, I was going in with him.

The third man, who had lagged a few steps behind the others, veered off the trail. His boots crunched on sand and dead leaves as he stepped closer, each sound like a hammer blow in the tense silence. He peered through the undergrowth, looking dangerously close to where we crouched.

I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the rough bark so tightly my knuckles ached .

Please don’t see us. Please don’t see us.

Onyx let out a low, almost imperceptible growl. My heart stopped.

Jaxson’s hand shot to her muzzle, gently covering it as he leaned down and whispered in her ear so softly I couldn’t make out the words.

The man froze, stopping on a patch of grass just to our left, barely missing us. My breath caught in my throat, and my pulse hammered so loudly in my ears I thought it might give us away.

“ Ada apa ?” one of the men on the trail called, his voice sharp and suspicious.

I didn’t dare move. I didn’t dare breathe.

The man didn’t answer. He took a step closer, and his boots crunched on a twig, snapping it in half. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst. Then, with a shake of his head, he turned and sprinted back toward the others.

The three of them lingered on the trail, their voices low and sharp as they seemed to argue over what to do next. Every second stretched unbearably long.

Finally, one of them muttered something, his tone clipped and angry, and they started back down the way they’d come. Their footsteps grew softer, fading into the distance until they disappeared near the burning wreck, and the glow of the fire concealed them altogether.

I let out a shaky breath, my body sagging against the log as the tension drained from me. Tears pricked my eyes, hot and unbidden, but I didn’t wipe them away.

Jaxson didn’t move. His eyes stayed locked on the trail, his body still tense, coiled like a predator ready to pounce. Beside him, Onyx was perfectly still, too, her ears pinned back. I had the feeling she could keep that stance for hours.

The wilderness fell silent again, and the only sound was the faint crackle of the distant fire.

Finally, Jaxson turned to me. His expression was grim but calm. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I guess.” I barely recognized my weak voice.

His hand rested on my shoulder. “We’ll be okay. I promise.”

I searched his face, wishing there was enough light to see him clearly. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep. ”

“I didn’t,” he said, his tone brimming with absolute certainty.

I barely knew Jaxson, yet I had this overwhelming feeling that he would die for me.

And that thought made my heart ache and my head want to explode all at once. I didn’t want anyone dying for me. I didn’t want to die either. There was still so much I wanted to do.

I wanted to travel to exotic beaches all around the world, to have children, to learn how to salsa dance, to cook the perfect curry, and learn how to knit something warm and soft with my own two hands. There were a million little things I’d always told myself I’d do someday.

I do not want to die.