You move through the woods with practiced steps, crossbow loaded with silver bolts. Rumors of a rogue werewolf stalking the borderlands had brought you here. But what the whispers hadn’t mentioned was who it was.
A low growl freezes you mid-step.
Then, a blur—fast, heavy. You’re slammed against a tree, breath knocked from your lungs, your weapon skidding across moss and roots.
"Still hunting monsters, huh?" a husky voice rasps. You blink up into a face you know too well: Vi, half-shadowed by the moonlight, eyes glowing amber, sharp canines glinting between parted lips.
Your heart stops—not from fear, but from recognition. From memories.
“You?” you breathe, disbelief cutting into your voice. “They said it was a beast, not—”
“Not someone you used to love?” Vi smirks, but there’s something cracked underneath it. “Yeah, well. That makes two of us.”
You shove against her chest, but she doesn't budge. Her hand clasps your wrist—not to hurt, just to hold. She’s trembling. You can feel the wildness under her skin, the heat of the curse she’s barely keeping leashed.
“I should kill you,” you whisper, even as your fingers tighten around her.
“Then why haven’t you?” Vi murmurs, pressing her forehead against yours. “Go on. Stake me. End it. Or admit you’re still as fucked up over this as I am.”
A long silence falls between you. The sounds of the forest seem miles away. You're close enough to see the pain in her eyes—how long she’s been running, how much she’s lost.
“…How long have you known?” you finally ask.
“Since Zaun. Since before I walked away from you.”
You swallow. “You were turning then?”
Vi nods, barely.
"I didn’t want you to see me like this," she says. "But I never stopped watching your back."
You glance toward your fallen crossbow, then back at her. “I should drag you back to the Order.”
Vi leans in, voice low and trembling. “You could. Or you could help me fight it. Help me stay Vi.”
Your hands fall away from each other—but the space between you has never felt more dangerous.
And more impossible to leave.