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Chapter 22: Survive the Night
Falling off a cliff wasn't on my to-do list for the day.
Neither was landing on a two-hundred-pound werewolf.
We hit the ground with a bone-cracking thud. I think I blacked out for half a second, because when I blinked awake, I was half-sprawled across a massive, mangy heap of fur.
Zoe rolled off the creature with a soft grunt. She pressed a hand to her ribs, wincing, but otherwise seemed okay.
The monster twitched once and went still.
I looked down at it, then turned to Zoe with a breathless smile. "It's unconscious. We're good."
I struggled to her knees. My whole body throbbed like I'd been dropped from a building—which, I guess, I kind of had.
"And how long do you think that's gonna last?" Zoe asked.
I glanced at the beast's massive form. Already, its claws were flexing in the dirt. Its breathing was shallow but steady. Definitely not dead.
"We need to move.Now," I hissed, grabbing Zoe's arm and hauling her up.
We stumbled into the trees, putting as much distance between us and the monster as possible. I could still feel it, though. Like its presence was stitched into the shadows behind us. Watching. Waiting.
We ducked behind a boulder, panting. I could barely think straight. My bow was still slung over my back, my quiver nearly empty. I fumbled for my arrows. One silver-tipped. The rest were basically toothpicks against a monster like that.
One shot.
I stared at the silver arrow in my hand, feeling its weight like it was a loaded dice. One shot.
If I missed, we are dead.
And with just one working eye, my aim was... let's just say it wasn't exactly sharpshooter material anymore. My depth perception was wrecked. Distances blurred, angles felt wrong. Every shot I took was a gamble.
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to breathe. No room for panic now.
"I only have one silver arrow," I said quietly, glancing at Zoe. "And I'm not even sure I can make it count."
Her face tightened. She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something — reassure me, maybe — but nothing came out. There wasn't much comfort to offer when the truth was laid out that plainly.
I tipped my head back, staring up at the full moon through the tangle of branches.
It glowed cold and silver, high and distant — so beautiful it almost hurt to look at.
Somewhere up there, I wondered if Artemis could see us.
If she was watching.
If she even cared.
A part of me, the stubborn hopeful part, wanted to believe she would swoop in and save us. That maybe, just maybe, we'd be spared because she wouldn't let it end like this.
But another part, the one that had learned not to expect miracles, stayed silent.
No one was coming.
It was on us.
I dropped my gaze back to Zoe, setting my jaw. We had to save ourselves.
Zoe was digging through my bag now, rummaging frantically.
"What are you doing?" I whispered, glancing over the rock to check if the thing was coming.
She didn't answer right away. She pulled out a small vial—a potion I picked up from the research lab—and held it up, her face lighting up like she'd found buried treasure.
"This," she said breathlessly. "It's the healing potion. Almost complete."
"Almost?" I echoed warily.
She nodded, grimacing. "It's missing one final ingredient. Blood."
I stared at her, in disbelief of what she was implying. "Yes. Yours."
She set her jaw. "It's the only chance we have. If we fix your eye, you can make the shot."
My mouth went dry. I shook my head instinctively.
"No. No way. I'm not letting you—"
She already had her knife out. Without hesitation, she sliced a shallow line across her palm. Blood welled up, rich and red.
"Zoe—!"
"It's my choice," she said fiercely. "You are our only hope"
Her words hit harder than I wanted to admit.
The werewolf's growl echoed faintly through the woods. Getting closer.
We didn't have time to argue.
Teeth gritted, I grabbed the vial. Zoe let a few drops of blood drip into the swirling green liquid. It shimmered gold immediately, hissing like something alive.
She shoved it into my hand. "Do it."
I hesitated—just a second longer—then popped the cork.
I take off my eyepatch.
The moment the potion touched my eye, pain exploded in my skull.
It felt like liquid fire pouring into my brain, scouring every nerve raw.
I gasped, falling to my knees, clutching at my face.
Zoe knelt beside me, her hands on my shoulders, grounding me.
"Breathe, Aiden. You're okay. You're okay."
I wasn't sure I believed her.
But after a few agonizing seconds, the burning stopped.
I blinked—and the world snapped into razor-sharp focus.
Both sides.
Depth. Distance. Clarity.
For a heartbeat, I just stared at Zoe, seeing her properly for the first time since I lost my left eye. Her dark hair was tangled with leaves. Her green eyes were fierce, determined.
And then I noticed something else.
She was staring at me.
"My eye?" I croaked.
She nodded. "It's... gold. Like... molten gold."
Not the weirdest thing about tonight, honestly.
Before I could process it, a snarl shattered the moment.
The werewolf was back—charging through the trees straight at us.
I leapt to my feet, nocking the silver arrow in a smooth, practiced motion. The bowstring hummed under my fingers.
The monster barreled toward us, its jaws wide enough to bite a man in half.
I planted my feet, focused, breathed.
The world narrowed down to one point: the beast's forehead.
I released.
The arrow flew straight and true—
—and missed.
It glanced off the monster's shoulder, slicing a shallow wound but doing no real damage.
I swore under my breath.
The werewolf roared in pain and rage, lunging for us. I shoved Zoe aside just in time to take the brunt of the impact.
Claws raked across my side. I stumbled back, drawing a regular arrow—useless, but it was better than nothing.
I aimed for the eyes, the joints, the mouth—anywhere vulnerable.
The werewolf was fast, but I was faster now. I ducked a swipe that would've taken my head off, rolled under its slashing claws, and fired an arrow straight into its snout.
It howled, shaking its head violently.
The monster smashed into the boulder, cracking it in half like it was paper.
I circled around, keeping it moving, trying to tire it out. Every few seconds, it would dart forward, snapping its jaws, but I was faster now, my movements more sure, my sight perfect.
Still, my hands were shaking. I was running on fumes. One wrong move and it would be over.
Zoe scrambled around the side, trying to find a distraction. She grabbed a broken branch and hurled it at the werewolf's face.
It flinched—just for a second—but it was enough.
I drew another regular arrow, aiming for the wounded shoulder.
This time, the shot hit harder, driving deeper.
The beast staggered, snarling in fury. Blood poured down its side.
I needed the kill shot.
But my silver arrow was gone—lost in the dirt somewhere.
"Zoe!" I called desperately.
She was already on it, scanning the ground.
"Found it!" she cried, grabbing the silver arrow.
She tossed it to me—badly.
I had to dive for it, the tip nicking my hand as I caught it.
The werewolf charged, sensing my opening.
I rolled onto my back, arrow nocked, heart pounding.
The monster leapt.
And I fired.
The silver arrow punched through the underside of its jaw, straight into its brain.
The werewolf hit the ground inches from me, its body spasming once—
Then going still.
Really still.
I lay there for a second, panting, staring at the motionless beast.
Zoe skidded to my side, breathing hard.
"Is it...?"
"Yeah," I croaked. "Dead. For real this time."
We sat there in stunned silence, the only sounds our ragged breathing and the distant whisper of the wind through the trees.
The fight was over.
We survived the night.
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