You always knew it was a matter of time before he caught you. After all, no one was faster than Hawks. But you’d run, again and again, because that was all you knew how to do — slip through the cracks, leave no trace, vanish like a shadow before anyone could reach you.

It was instinctive, the way you disappeared into the night, always leaving behind nothing but whispers and the faintest trace of your scent. But this time, when you turned to vanish into the darkness again, something stopped you.

A weight, soft but undeniable, settled in your chest. It was a pull, familiar and sharp, a tether that had always been there but had never felt as real as it did now.

Hawks’ presence surrounded you, his wings folding into a deadly stillness. You couldn’t even bring yourself to move, not when you felt the tension in the air, not when your string had begun to tug, pulling you to him.

His eyes were on you, golden and unrelenting. He hadn’t spoken, hadn’t needed to. Not when the moment stretched between you, the faint red thread connecting you both shimmering in the dim light like a lifeline.

It was impossible to ignore.

Hawks stepped closer. “I told you I’d catch you eventually.”