I spent my first night as vigilant as ever, sleeping in tiny bursts and waking up in a panic. I told myself that I would absolutely not sleep with the loaded gun in my hand and I kept my promise, but it did rest right beside the bed. Every whisper of wind, every animal call, startled me out of my sleep. But nothing dared to open the single door in the cabin and I didn't have to make a quick escape out of the window. I might have been in crisis but the world outside would continue on regardless. Even as a siren I could not make animals stop being wild creatures, nor could I control the weather.

When I woke up in the morning to the sun rising, I started my first day with careful exploration of my immediate surroundings. The cabin was small with no running water, a tiny kitchen table, a bunk bed, and a wood burning stove. Not only did it provide little entertainment, it didn't offer my aching bladder relief. I slipped out of the cabin, my eyes constantly scanning for a threat, and located the outhouse.

Hour by hour I became more comfortable with my surroundings and was able to read in peace, cook a small meal on the stove, and settle in for a proper sleep at the end of the night. On the second full day at the cabin I was grateful for the quiet. It was just me out here. No one that I had to rely on, no one that relied on me. I did what I wanted, ate what I wanted, slept when I wanted. Everything happened when I needed it to. 

By the third day my books could no longer entertain me solely. I only had one new book left to read and I didn't want my novels to become stale before I even made it a week in the cabin. I roamed outside, following my ears to the creek that Eddy's map described. 

It was small and frigid to the touch. Unlike the stream by Eddy's farmhouse, this water didn't warm for me. This creek also wasn't angry like the stream had been. Instead of rolling rapids, it babbled and gurgled. When my fingers pushed passed the surface I felt it's energy, slow and patient. Glacier water, melted and traveling down the mountains, finding it's way to other bodies of water. It reminded me of a sleepy resort town where everyone rode their bikes around and all things happened in good time, nothing rushed or urgent.

It was the opposite of how I felt, but the liquid was still a comfort. And it would provide a place for me to wash my body and clean my clothes. All with Earth safe products of course. I didn't know if it was possible to anger the water but the last thing I needed now was for the water to turn against me.

My life fell into a dull lull. I would wake up with the sun. I would allow myself to read four chapters before forcing myself out of bed. I would make breakfast, staring out the tiny window, wondering if I had been spotted yet. The gun always stayed nearby. 

After I cooked food I would move outside. Sometimes I would wash my clothes or myself in the stream. If I didn't have to do either of those things I would pass time by chopping wood to restock the pile. I wasn't sure how long I would be here, but if my time bled into winter I was going to need tons of wood just to keep warm. God knows what I would do with my clothes and baths then. And I had enough food to last me a little longer, but it wasn't much. As much as I valued my ability to survive on my own, I wasn't exactly a wilderness explorer. I couldn't scavenge for myself. I didn't know which berries would kill me. If I somehow managed to shoot an animal I had no idea how to prepare it or how to preserve it. 

But each time I thought about going back to civilization my stomach clenched. I couldn't go back. Not yet. They would still be looking for me. They would still be hunting me down. Here, my gun and creek offered me safety. In a town I couldn't have either of those things. I would be vulnerable. And they would be waiting for me. Of course they would be looking for me. Nero would never stop. Not until I was dead.

To avoid spending too much time outside and attracting attention to myself, or from eating all my food and reading my books too quickly, I started going to sleep earlier and earlier. And the nightmares came back full force. 

I dreamed of blood and tortured cries. I could still smell that repulsive compound in my unconscious state. I could recall the way Nero snarled in my face, seeming to think that I was withholding my powers from him intentionally. If I could have given him everything I had to save myself or to save my sisters I would have. I would have done anything to make it end.

But about two weeks into my stay, I woke up, feeling like flames were rolling over my skin. It took me a second to shake the nightmare off, reminding myself that I had always been freezing cold in that underground compound. The heat meant that I was free. However, free didn't always mean safe.

My eyes burst open, thinking that I had forgotten to extinguish the flame or that a forest fire had swept in. But the cabin was dark and the stove was closed and cold.

I must have been having a fever. My skin felt like it was scorching, as if the sun had come to close or I had gotten the worst sunburn of my life. But, when I moved to kick off the blankets, there was no stiffness in my joints like there would have been if I had the flu. When I rolled to my side I didn't have the urge to vomit and my mouth didn't feel dry. Each breath I sucked in came without any resistance so I wasn't congested. I had no other signs of sickness aside from my hot flesh.

I jammed my eyes shut, willing to feeling to pass. Wasn't I just concerned about how I would keep warm a couple days ago? Now this. I didn't understand what was happening or why it was happening. Did it have something to do with my powers? Was the moisture in the air trying to tell me something? I had never received a message like this but that didn't mean it was impossible. 

A strangled whimper pushed through my tight lips on it's own accord. I squeezed my eyes shut harder. And there, in my mind's eye, was the last person I wanted to see.

Easton.

I saw his wide eyes when he first really saw me standing behind Eddy. I thought about his voice when he spoke to me as I toyed with the sea. I saw the genuine concern that shone in his eyes when I burst into his living room, interrupting him and his sister.

Yes, Easton was what I needed. 

Thinking of those green eye I felt my hand slip down my stomach, skimming the waist band of my shorts. 

My eyes flashed open. I was alone in a cabin in the middle of nowhere because of Easton. I was on the run again because of Easton.

This was wrong. So wrong. 

I grabbed the blankets and threw them over my body again, like they would protect me from my unholy thoughts. I didn't know what was happening to my body. I didn't understand why my skin was burning. I didn't know why I was seeking relief so desperately. 

What I did know was that Easton would not be how I found that release, no matter how badly I wanted it. 

But, in protest to my defiance, my body heat increased. My hands fisted the sheets. I would be strong. I wouldn't give in. 

My core throbbed. 

I rolled onto my stomach.

I could feel my wetness growing.

The need was so strong it was painful. 

Even with my head pressed into the pillows, I was sure that my screams of anger and frustration could be heard for miles.