The soft hum of birds drifted through Havenwall as dawn crept over the settlement.
A thin shaft of sunlight slipped through the curtains and landed squarely across Yve's face. She groaned and buried herself deeper beneath the blankets. "It's..." she mumbled, voice rough from exhaustion. She drew in a slow breath. "It's morning."
Beside her, Dylan cracked one eye open. "Damn..."
Yve turned her head toward him, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Honestly, I didn't think you could match my stamina."
A low chuckle escaped him. "You kiddin'?" he muttered. "Been runnin', fightin', trainin' most my life."
Yve laughed softly and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "I barely slept at al…you?"
"Nah."
"You think they'll notice?"
Dylan snorted. "Don't really care."
"That's because you're impossible."
With a grunt, Dylan pushed himself upright. Every muscle in his body protested the movement.
Yve sat up beside him.
And froze.
Dylan followed her stare.
The room looked like it had survived a small war.
The cabinet near the wall leaned at an alarming angle, one of its doors hung from a single hinge, long scratches gouged the wooden wall beside the bed, the mirror had a crack running straight through it, a chair sat in the corner missing two legs, the headboard looked as though something had tried to kill it, the sheets were torn and looked like it suffered under the hands of Wolverine. And the bed itself creaked ominously when either of them so much as breathed.
For several seconds neither spoke.
Then Dylan rubbed a hand across his face. "Huh."
Yve slowly covered her face with both hands. A muffled squeal escaped her. "Oh no."
Dylan's shoulders started shaking. "Oh no?" he repeated.
She peeked at him through her fingers. "We destroyed your room."
Another laugh escaped him. "Looks that way."
Yve dropped her face into her hands again. "This is so embarrassing."
"Why?"
She stared at him, her face burning. "Because I did that," she said, pointing a trembling finger across the room. "I... I can't believe I did that."
"Yeah, you did do that."
Yve groaned, squeeezing his arms a little. "Dylan."
But Dylan only chuckled. "What?."
Despite herself, she laughed.
Dylan slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. Then his eyes drifted toward the deep claw marks carved into the wall. Then toward the matching scratches across what remained of the headboard. Then toward several fresh red marks still visible across his shoulders.
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You did scratch a lotta stuff."
Yve groaned. "Please stop."
"Just sayin'."
"Dylan."
"And that chair never did anything to you."
She buried her face against his shoulder. "I am never coming back to this room again."
"Yeah?"
"Ever." Yve made a strangled noise and hid her face even deeper.
Dylan finally laughed outright, and he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead before resting his chin lightly atop her head. He drew in a slow breath, something uniquely Yve filling his senses.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then Yve's voice came quietly from against his shoulder. "Sorry if I hurt you..."
Dylan frowned. "Hurt me?"
She lifted her head slightly.
His gaze followed hers as she looked at the long red claw marks running across his shoulders and back.
Dylan snorted. "What? These?" He twisted enough to gesture vaguely at the scratches. "I survived worse."
Yve opened her mouth to argue, but he continued.
"Besides." A crooked grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Them scratches? I take 'em as a compliment."
Yve blinked. "A compliment?"
"Mm."
"How?"
Dylan looked at her. Not teasing. Not laughing. Just a strange, knowing look that somehow made the answer far worse than any words could have.
The realization hit her like a freight train. Her face instantly turned crimson. "Oh."
Dylan's grin widened. "Yep."
Yve let out a horrified squeak and immediately disappeared beneath the blankets. The entire blanket mound shifted as she pulled it over her head. "No."
Dylan chuckled. "Yep."
"Shut up!"
"They're like badges of achievement."
"Dylan!"
His laughter rumbled through his chest.
From beneath the covers came an incoherent string of embarrassed muttering.
Dylan leaned back against the headboard—or what remained of it—and folded his arms. "Y'know, hidin' under there ain't gonna fix nothin'."
The blanket mound refused to respond.
A few seconds later a muffled voice emerged. "Go away."
"This my room."
The blanket mound went completely still. A moment later, Yve groaned dramatically. "I hate you."
"Nah." His voice softened. "My badge of achievement says you don't."
The blanket shifted just enough for one glowing eye to peek out.
Dylan met it with an amused smile.
After a second, Yve reluctantly emerged, still red-faced. Unfortunately, the first thing she saw was the scratches on his shoulder again. She immediately buried her face in his chest.
Dylan shook his head, smiling. "Thought so."
The room had fallen quiet again.
Dylan's fingers moved slowly through her hair, gently combing through the dark strands as she rested against his chest.
For a while, the only sounds were the distant stirrings of Havenwall waking beyond the walls and the steady rhythm of Dylan's heartbeat beneath her ear. "Dylan..."
"Hm?"
Yve tilted her head, looking up at him. "I keep thinking... back in the forest. How did you know?"
Dylan paused for a moment, then glanced down at her. "...Your eyes."
Yve blinked. "My eyes?"
"Yeah."
She waited for him to explain.
Dylan shrugged. "The other one don't look at me the way you do."
For a moment, Yve simply stared at him. Then her cheeks began to redden. A small smile tugged at her lips despite herself. "Oh."
Dylan smirked faintly.
The silence lingered comfortably between them.
Then Yve sighed. "I'm sorry it took me so long to realize you've been replaced."
"Nah."
She frowned. "It matters."
"It don't."
"Yes, it does." Yve pushed herself up onto one elbow. "You were barely alive when you shot the skindrifter. Half dead, bleeding out, and you still figured out which one was me." Her gaze lowered. "I'm a siren, Dylan. I should have known."
Dylan studied her for a moment. "Think I know why."
Yve looked back up. "You do?"
"Yeah." He scratched absentmindedly at the stubble along his jaw. "You were scared."
"Scared?"
"Of hurtin' me."
Yve opened her mouth to object, then stopped.
Dylan continued. "You kept givin' it the benefit of the doubt 'cause you didn't wanna risk bein' wrong."
She frowned. "Well, that's not exactly a good thing."
"Nah." His hand continued stroking her hair. "Maybe not." Dylan nodded toward the faint claw marks still visible across his shoulders. "Even last night."
Yve immediately buried her face against his chest. "Dylan."
"What?"
"You keep bringing that up."
A quiet chuckle rumbled through him. "My point is, you were holdin' back."
She didn't answer right away. Eventually, she sighed. "I guess so."
"You were worried about hurtin' me."
Yve nodded reluctantly.
Dylan was quiet for a moment before speaking again. "And it ain't your fault you didn't recognize me sooner."
She looked up. "It isn't?"
"Nah." His expression grew more serious. "Was my fault."
Yve frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"Shouldn't've followed you into that forest."
"Dylan—"
"I knew something was wrong. Felt it." He shook his head. "I should've known better 'nd just trusted you. That's on me. You were just... bein' you."
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Yve slowly reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers.
The silence that followed felt lighter somehow.
~~~
About an hour later, after summoning the motivation to get dressed and face the world, Dylan and Yve stepped outside.
The morning sun was already climbing over Havenwall.
Unfortunately, so was Ethan's ability to appear at the worst possible moments.
The young Korean adult was rambling down the path, a bucket of junk swinging from one hand, a half-eaten fruit in the other.
He took one look at them and froze.
The fruit slipped from his fingers and hit the dirt with a soft thud. His eyes narrowed. Then widened. Then narrowed again, as if solving a complex equation. A slow, knowing grin spread across his face. "Ohhh."
Yve recognized that expression with a sinking dread.
"You two love-fish finally did it?"
"Ethan."
His grin only widened. "Oh my God, you did."
"Go away, Ethan."
Dylan glanced at Yve's horrified expression and couldn't suppress the smile tugging at his own lips. He gave Ethan a small, resigned nod.
That was all the confirmation he needed. The bucket hit the ground with a loud clang. "FINALLY!" Ethan's voice echoed across half the settlement. "After, like, a year of this stupid back-and-forth!"
Yve looked like she wanted to bury herself alive.
"I'm so happy for you two clowns!" Ethan continued, undeterred. "No, seriously. Do you know how painful it was watching you two idiots dance around each other for months?"
Yve covered her face with her hands.
Dylan just folded his arms, thoroughly entertained.
Ethan marched right up to him. "Good for you, big brother." He spread his arms wide for a hug.
Without breaking eye contact, Dylan planted a hand firmly against Ethan's forehead.
Ethan's momentum carried his arms forward, but his body stayed put. He looked like a cartoon character hitting an invisible wall. "Aw, come on."
"Shut it, Ethan."
"What? Can't a man be happy knowin' his big bro finally got laid?"
Yve made a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a dying animal. "Yep." She spun on her heel. "I'm out of here."
"Yve, wait—"
"Nope!" She said, still hiding her burning face as she practically fled toward her house.
Yve escaped as quickly as dignity would allow. Unfortunately, dignity wasn't moving very fast today. She was only a few steps from her front door when a figure stepped directly into her path.
Arms crossed. One eyebrow raised. Waiting. Ysa.
Yve stopped so abruptly she nearly stumbled. "Oh." She offered a weak smile. "Hi. Good morning."
Ysa didn't return it. "And where were you last night?"
Yve blinked. "What?"
"You weren't on night patrol duty, that's for sure."
"I was..." Yve's brain scrambled for an answer. "...sleeping."
Ysa stared.
Yve stared back, the silence stretching.
Then something seemed to click behind Ysa's eyes. Slowly, suspiciously, she leaned in, sniffing the air just beside Yve's head.
Yve frowned. "What are you doing?"
Ysa took a slow breath. Then another. And immediately recoiled. "Oh, my heavens! You had sex, didn't you?"
Several people passing nearby looked over.
Yve froze. "Oh, my heavens, do you really have to shout that?!"
Ysa pointed a single, accusatory finger. "I knew it!"
Yve's eyes darted around, frantically checking for eavesdroppers. "Keep your voice down!" She groaned and buried her face in her hands. After a moment, she peeked through her fingers. "Besides... how did you know?"
"I know that smell."
"What smell?"
"The post-mating scent reeking off of your entire body. It's practically pouring off you." Ysa waved a hand in front of her nose. "Not to mention, I can smell Dylan all over you."
Yve immediately sniffed her sleeve. Then her shoulder. Then her wrist. "Really?"
Ysa made a face, rolling her eyes. "Urgh."
Yve looked genuinely confused. After another second, she lowered her hands.
Then paused.
Her eyes narrowed. A realization dawned, slow and mischievous. Yve pointed right back at her. "Hang on."
"What?"
"Is that what I've been smelling on you since we were a hundred and ninety years old?"
Ysa's eyes widened. "What?"
Recognition fully bloomed on Yve's face. "My heavens!"
Ysa groaned.
"It was like almost every day!"
"Yve—"
"Back when you were dating Haugen?"
Ysa looked ready to throw Yve into the ocean herself.
Yve winced dramatically, fanning the air. "So that's what that was. It all makes sense now."
"Shut up."
Yve grinned. For the first time all morning, somebody else was embarrassed. "You smelled like that for years."
"SHUT UP." Ysa jabbed a warning finger at her. "Do not tell Mother that."
Yve folded her arms, her grin widening. "Oh, now who's embarrassed?"
Ysa stared at her for several long seconds, then let out a heavy, defeated sigh. "I liked you better five minutes ago."
Yve's grin returned, brighter than ever. "Leave me alone. I need to wash myself off."
"Right!" Ysa called after her. "Wash that stink all over you."
Yve opened the door. "Tell Mother and I will throw you into the ocean."
Ysa placed a hand dramatically over her heart. "About damn time you truly become an adult."
With a horrified squeak, Yve disappeared inside and slammed the door shut behind her.
~~~
The group gathered around the hood of the truck parked beside the bus. A rough map was spread across the metal, weighed down at the corners by a wrench and a half-empty water bottle.
Lucas rubbed a hand over his jaw. "It's hard to communicate with the prisoners."
"Yeah," Lysander agreed.
Lucas sighed. "It's moments like this I miss Esteban. Do we really not have anyone here who speaks Spanish?"
Ethan shrugged. "No. None. I've asked around. You got anybody in there who speaks Korean? I'd happily translate it."
Lucas shook his head. "No. I don't think so. They're all too terrified to talk."
Lysander chuckled.
Lucas pointed at him. "It's your fault."
"My fault?"
"If you hadn't killed their guy in front of them, one of them would've given us a map by now."
"Hey." Lysander raised his hands defensively. "Don't blame me. He's the one who attacked me first. I was just asking questions."
Ethan snorted.
Lucas pinched the bridge of his nose. "I swear, one day I'm going to assign both of you to latrine duty."
"Why am I included?" Ethan asked.
"Because you encourage him."
A brief silence followed.
Then Dylan spoke, leaning against the hood. "Maybe the Artificers could rig somethin' up."
Lucas looked at him. "That's actually not a bad idea. Hell, they managed to power a freezer. Maybe they could get a phone working too."
Dylan frowned. "Phone? What for?"
"'Cause it has Google Translate."
Dylan scratched his cheek. "Need internet for that, don't ya?"
Victor finally spoke up. "I might... have some idea."
Everyone turned toward him.
"Well... what if we have the mechanic sirens—"
"Mechanic sirens?" Lysander asked.
Victor made a vague motion with his hands. "Yeah. The ones that do the thingy like..."
Dylan sighed. "Artificers."
"Huh?"
"They're Artificers."
"Oh. Right."
Dylan pointed at him. "Call 'em mechanics, they'll chew yer ear off."
Victor pointed toward the bus. "Right…sorry." A pause. "Anyways, what I'm saying was…what if we have them rig up, like, our own internet?"
Lucas turned to Lysander. "Do you think that's possible?"
Lysander immediately raised a hand, shaking his head. "Don't ask me. I'm not an Artificer."
Lucas sighed. "Fine. I'll just ask either Duncan or D—" He paused, snapping his fingers. "That other guy with a girl's name."
"Darnell?" Lysander supplied.
"Yeah. That one."
"Don't let him hear you call him that."
Lucas ignored him. "I'll talk to Duncan and Darnell. See if they can make any of the ideas y'all just threw out actually happen."
Then he walked off.
Behind him, Dylan rolled his shoulders once, then again, like something in his back wouldn't fully settle.
Victor tilted his head. "You alright?"
Dylan gave a short nod. "Yeah. Just sore."
Ethan smirked. "Yeah, you are."
Dylan turned his head slightly toward him, unimpressed.
Victor's eyes drifted over Dylan's inner arms. "Hey—what's that on your arms?" He pointed.
A faint streak ran along Dylan's forearm, trailing upward toward his shoulder like something had brushed him hard enough to leave residue behind.
Dylan looked down. Furrowed his brow. He wiped at it with his thumb.
It didn't come off clean.
Instead, it smeared—thin, metallic, almost oily. When it caught the light, it flashed a dull blue sheen, like oxidized metal mixed with something organic.
He paused. "...Huh."
Ethan leaned closer. "What is that? Ink?"
Dylan rubbed harder. "No idea."
Victor stepped in a bit, squinting.
Lysander, who had been watching quietly, spoke up. "That's a new scent."
Dylan glanced at him. "It is?"
Lysander nodded once, slowly, like he was trying to place it. "Yeah. Like... trees. Or. And something else." He hesitated. "Metallic. Like blood. But not exactly."
That made Ethan's expression tighten. "Okay, that's a weird combination of smells." He moved behind Dylan and carefully lifted the back of his shirt. The second he looked, his face changed. "…Oh hell."
Dylan shifted. "What?"
Ethan didn't answer immediately.
The air hit them next—sharp, heavy, wrong. The same metallic-organic smell intensified, like it was leaking from under the skin rather than sitting on it.
Ethan winced. "Urgh… what the hell happened to you?"
Dylan reached back, trying to feel over his shoulder blades. "Tell me what."
Ethan stepped back half a pace.
Dylan paused. Then, without hesitation, he pulled his shirt off fully. Cold air hit his skin. He turned slightly toward the reflective surface of the car window, angling his back toward it.
The marks were visible now. Long, jagged scratches carved across his shoulders, upper and lower back. Oozing with that same, dark blue-tinged sheen seeped from the wounds, thin and slow, catching light in unnatural glints.
Lysander commented. "Wow… did you fight a werewolf or something?"
Dylan didn't answer right away. He just stared at his reflection. "No… I—"
Ethan cut in fast. "You need to get that checked, right now. That is—that looks so wrong."
Dylan pulled his shirt back on, slow and deliberate, like the fabric might suddenly explain what the hell was going on.
Ethan still looked unsettled. "That looks so painful."
Dylan stopped mid-adjustment and flexed his back once. He frowned. "…It actually don't."
Victor blinked. "You're joking."
Dylan shook his head once. "No." He rolled his shoulder like he was testing weight. "Muscles hurt. That's it."
Ethan stepped closer. "That doesn't make sense."
Dylan didn't look at him. "No burnin' stingin' pain. Just my muscles sore but that's 'cause I was up all night."
Victor snapped his head toward him.
Lysander leaned in slightly, sniffed the air, then spoke low. "Huh…so that's why I can smell Yve all over you."
Dylan just stared at him a second. "…Yeah." He turned and started walking.
Victor called after him. "You're just gonna walk it off?"
Dylan didn't slow. "Goin' to Jenkins."
Dylan kept walking, rolling his shoulder once like he was still trying to find pain that wasn't there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's Note;
First one who can correctly or at least closely guess what's going on with Dylan will have their actual full name be one of my characters. I decide though if you'd be one of the main characters, supporting character, or evil character.
Little note, don't be upset if your character doesn't appear in Book 1, cause Book 1 ain't the end. There will be more suffering to come...cause why not?💅
Offer is up until I publish the chapter where I reveal what the hell is going on with Dylan.
Hint: It has something to do with what happened to him, accelerated by one of the twins.
Good luck, Realmwalkers!