Soren keeps his eyes on the road as he talks, his voice softer than usual, almost nostalgic. "I had a normal childhood until I was thirteen," he says, glancing at me as if testing the waters. "My parents were good people. Kindred, but living normal lives. Corporate jobs....family vacations. They loved taking me out to climb in the mountains. We spent a lot of time outdoors."

I lean back in the seat, listening quietly. It's the most he's opened up since we started running, and despite everything, I find myself wanting to know more. "What happened when you turned thirteen?" I ask, though I already have an idea. Thirteen is when he mentioned enforcers begin to awaken.

Soren grips the steering wheel a little tighter, his expression hardening for a moment before he sighs. "That's when everything changed. When I awakened, my powers were... dangerous. Unstable. I couldn't control them, and it put my parents at risk just being around me."

I frown, watching him. "So, you left?"

He nods. "Yeah. There's a council, a group that tracks and helps young kindred when they first awaken. They stepped in and told my parents it was too dangerous for me to stay with them. I didn't have a choice. They were told I'd be sent to a special academy, one that would help me control my abilities."

I raise an eyebrow, trying to piece it together. "And they just accepted that? Didn't they try to find you?"

"I didn't have a typical awakening. It was very suspicious." He glanced briefly at me.

"They were convinced it was for my safety," he says, his jaw clenching slightly. "The council made sure they believed it was the only way. I was sent to a facility far from them, deep in the mountains. It was...more like a large training ground belonging to the council and the head enforcer."

My eyes widen. "So, they never really knew what happened to you?"

Soren shakes his head, his expression darkening. "No. The council told them I was safe, and that was enough for them. They didn't question it. I couldn't go back without putting them in danger, and I didn't want that. Even if they tried to contact me, there was no way to find us. So, I disappeared from their lives."

"So, you've been on your own since then?" I ask softly.

Soren nods, his gaze distant as he keeps his eyes on the road. "Yeah, you can say that. The Enforcers are all I've known. They made sure I never looked back."

The car falls into silence for a moment, the weight of his words hanging in the air. I wonder how hard it must've been, to grow up alone, thinking you had no choice but to protect the people you loved by staying away.

I swallow hard, feeling a pang of sadness for him. "Do you ever miss them?"

"Every day," he admits quietly. "But I've learned to live with it. It's part of who I am now."

I don't know what to say. There's a part of me that wants to reach out and tell him it's okay, that he's not alone anymore. But I don't. Not yet. Instead, I let the silence stretch on, the only sound is the engine's hum and the road beneath us.

___

I wake up to the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs. I peer through the car window to see a steep drop below us. The bumpiness of the unpaved dirt path and the closeness to the edge of the road make me gulp in alarm. 

The creeks of the car against the wind and the windiness of the path do little to soothe my worries. 

"You're awake," Soren nods towards the plastic bag between us. I rummage to see a few sandwiches, energy drinks, and chips. After noticing my queasy expression, he silently grabs my hand and clenches mine in reassurance. 

I unwind just a little bit at the warm touch. 

"Where are we?" I note the change in scenery. 

"We've crossed a few state lines but we're on one of the many private lands that Enforcers own. We will be here for a while." He gives one of his usual vague explanations.

We eventually stop at the end of the path. This place is different. The moment we pull up, I notice the heavy steel gate that surrounds the property, cameras tracking our every move.

He quietly hops out and presses a square lid, which pops open to scan his palm. The gate moves quietly to let our car in. As we drive further onto the property, we are enveloped by large trees as they shroud us in darkness. Eventually, there is a slight clearing to reveal a simple building.   

The building itself is deceptively simple on the outside, looking like a modest cabin nestled in a thick forest. I assume it will be similar to the other safe house.

Soren presses a code into the panel by the door, and I hear the locks click into place behind us. He steps further in, guiding me through several rooms. There's exactly everything we need: food, supplies stacked neatly in what looks like a pantry the size of a small store, a fully equipped training room that puts the campus gym to shame, and even a medical area.

"This place is built for long stays. It's one of the main residences so I've renovated it throughout the years," Soren explains, his voice casual but his eyes scanning the area, still on edge. "We won't have to move again for a while."

Despite the rugged exterior and its utilitarian function, Soren has added his personal touch to the place.

The furniture is minimal but well-chosen—sturdy yet comfortable. A large leather sofa dominates the main room, its dark color blending with the rustic wooden walls. A few sleek, blackened steel lamps with modern, geometric shapes cast warm light, softening the edges of the otherwise functional space. On the walls hang pieces of art, mostly monochromatic landscapes and abstract forms, simple but tasteful, adding an air of quiet elegance.

There's a bookshelf, too, tucked in one corner, filled with books that range from ancient history to strategy and war tactics, as well as some unexpected novels—classic literature, even a few on philosophy. 

The dining table is a rough slab of wood with clean, polished lines, sitting beneath an industrial-style pendant light. On it sits a single vase, a collection of dried flowers arranged inside—minimalist, but beautiful in its simplicity. She wonders if it's something he did consciously or if he picked it up absentmindedly while on the run.

Even in the bedroom, where he presumably spends the most time, the bed is made with charcoal gray sheets and a thick, warm blanket folded neatly at the foot of the bed. The room feels more like a sanctuary than a hideout, balancing between safety and comfort. There's a hint of him in every corner—a man who values precision, but still craves a sense of calm within the chaos of his life.

Despite the danger surrounding them, Rain feels a small sense of comfort knowing that, even in a place like this, Soren has created a home of sorts. It's functional, but it's also personal. Every small touch is a reminder that even warriors like him have layers hidden beneath their hardened exteriors.

I drop my bag near the entrance, letting out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. There's relief in knowing we'll have some stability, but also a gnawing feeling that this life—this constant moving, hiding—is going to be my new normal.

Soren taps a few buttons on the security system, activating layers of defenses that, according to him, can take down just about anything short of a military-grade attack. The place is loaded with motion sensors, electric fencing, and surveillance systems that track movement for miles.

"We're safe here," he says, though his voice still has tension. His version of "safe" doesn't inspire comfort. I wonder if he's ever truly felt safe.

I wander through the house, finding a room with windows that overlook the surrounding woods. It's beautiful in a way, but the isolation makes it feel like we're cut off from the world. I suppose we are.

"This will be home for a bit," I mutter, though the word "home" feels strange on my tongue.

Soren appears in the doorway, watching me silently, his arms crossed. He's still so unreadable. 

"We'll train here," he says, his tone shifting to something more businesslike. "You need to be stronger, faster. They underestimated you last time, but that won't happen again. Not here."

I nod, feeling the weight of it all settling in. If this is the life I'm supposed to live now, I'll need to learn how to survive.

And as much as I hate to admit it, Soren is the only one who can teach me. 

___

With no TV, internet, or even a radio, the isolation begins to gnaw at me.  As much as I enjoy reading, the books in Soren's sparse collection don't offer the same escape  I am used to. The silence is heavy, broken only by our shared breaths during brutal training sessions or the occasional clink of dishes as we cook together.

Training with Soren is hardly what I imagined. It's intense—every session leaving me drenched in sweat and my muscles aching. He's relentless but focused, and his precision is always aimed at making me stronger. There's no room for error, no softness, only the sharp edge of survival. His critiques are sharp, but never cruel, though sometimes I catch a glimpse of something more when he watches me fight—a flicker of emotion he's quick to bury under the stoic exterior.

He focuses on advanced weaponless techniques - techniques quick to immobilize a Kindred. He shows how precise my strikes need to be and critically watches my movements. I need to practice reading an opponent's weakness to exploit them.  He introduces specific counter techniques that focus on redirecting an opponent's energy against them. I learn grappling, throws, or disarming maneuvers catered to my size. We run through these movements on repeat for hours on end, and yet, I can never manage to catch him off guard.

At times, I wonder if this is what the rest of my life will look like—an endless cycle of training and fighting. As much as I know I need to be ready for whatever is coming, the thought of spending every waking hour in this fortress, away from the world, makes me feel claustrophobic. I crave something more—connection, normalcy, anything beyond the constant physical and mental exertion.

We spend almost every waking hour together but we have yet to grow tired of one another. Perhaps it is the training, which exhausts most of my energy, so I am often passing out on the bed as soon as my body hits it. At first, I was hesitant to share a room and same bed as him, but it quickly became the least of my worries. The bed is large enough for us two and surprisingly comfortable, but Soren never joins me. I try to stay awake, listening to the quiet rustle of his movements as he keeps watch, seemingly never needing rest. 

Sometimes I catch him pacing near the door, other times he sits in the far corner, reading another book. He seems to always be on guard.  

Some nights, I almost wish he would give in and join me in the bed. I can't deny that I am drawn to him, my body reacting in ways I don't fully understand. The connection we share as mates pulls at me, making me yearn for something more, even though we barely know each other.

 Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I wonder what it would feel like to let him in, to close the distance that always seems to linger between us. But I never say it aloud.  

It's been a week since we moved here, and the tension between us has only grown. I know he's waiting for my answer. I feel it with every glance, every accidental touch during training, and in the silences that stretch between us like a wire ready to snap. 

Tonight, something is different. The air is charged, almost electric. I feel it deep in my chest, a pull that I can't ignore anymore. I've spent so long resisting, questioning if this was the life I wanted. But now, seeing his dedication, and his unshakable resolve to protect me—I know my answer. 

I'm ready.

The weight of the decision presses against my ribs as I sit across from him at the small kitchen table. His gaze is steady, calm but intense like he's waiting for something. Waiting for me to speak, for me to make the first move. And for once, I don't hesitate.

"I'm ready," I say, my voice low but sure. My eyes lock onto his, watching the brief flicker of surprise cross his face before he covers it with his usual calm.

"For what?" he asks, though I know he already understands. He says it slowly, as if waiting for me to change my mind.

"For everything," I say, leaning forward, my heart pounding hard in my chest. "I'm ready for the mark. I'm ready for the life. I'm ready to be your partner."

The words hang between us, heavy with meaning. Soren's eyes darken, and his jaw tightens as if he's testing my resolve. I know what this means—what it will change. The mark isn't just some symbol of our bond. It's a commitment, an irreversible step into his world, where danger waits at every turn.

But I'm tired of waiting. 

Tired of denying what I already know deep inside. From the moment I saw him, I knew we were meant to be partners, and I'm ready to embrace it.

"You're sure?" Soren's voice is rough, strained with emotion. He leans forward, his hands resting on the table between us, close enough that I could reach out and touch him. "This isn't something you can take back, Rain. Once you're marked, you're bound for life. No turning back." 

"I know," I whisper, my pulse quickening as I meet his gaze. "I don't want to turn back. I want this. I want us."

For a second, everything pauses. He's studying me, searching for any hint of doubt, but I hold steady. I've never been more certain of anything in my life.

"...do you feel the same way?" I pause, feeling some self-doubt creep in. What if he didn't think I was good enough to be his mate? I was younger than him. We grew up completely different. I knew I had it good with my upbringing and we would have different perspectives. 

Soren rises from his seat slowly, walking toward me with deliberate, careful steps. When he's standing in front of me, the space between us feels like it's crackling. His hand lifts, brushing a strand of hair away from my face as he looks down at me, the intensity in his eyes making my breath catch.

"You're mine, Rain," he says softly, his voice filled with quiet promise and something darker. "And you're perfect. There's nothing I would change about you." His voice, full of conviction, seems to sense my thoughts and feelings circling within.

 "Once I mark you, there's no going back."

"I know," I say again, this time with even more certainty. "I want to be yours."

The moment I say it, his lips are on mine, slow, deep, and filled with everything we haven't said. This isn't just a kiss—it's a vow. A promise of everything that's coming. His hands grip my waist, pulling me closer, and I melt into him, letting the connection between us grow even stronger. When we finally pull apart, his eyes are burning with desire, but there's something more—something primal, something I've only seen glimpses of until now.

"Then it's time," he says, voice low and coarse.  

I nod my heart racing, knowing this is it. The final step into this life, a life with Soren, bound together in a way that goes beyond words. It's dangerous, but it's real. And I'm ready to face it with him. As he takes my hand and leads me toward what's next, there's no turning back. 

But for the first time, I feel at peace with that. I'm ready.