Evening settled early.
The sky remained clear, the almost-full moon already visible as a bright coin in the darkening blue.
Derek cooked a simple meal: stew, bread, nothing heavy, and they ate in near silence.
The weight of the coming hours pressed on both of them.
Afterward, Allison cleaned the knives they would carry while Derek checked the radio one final time.
No new contact from the boundary watches.
The woods had gone quiet in a way that felt deliberate.
When the last of the daylight left the windows, Derek came to stand behind her at the table.
His hands settled on her waist, warm and steady.
She leaned back into him without thinking.
“I need you to understand something,” he said against her hair.
“If the plan fails, if it gets past us, you run.
You don’t look back.
You get to the truck, and you drive until you see city lights.
We cannot survive if that thing takes what I’ve claimed and turns it against us.”
Allison turned in his arms.
“I’m not running.”
“You will if I tell you to.”
She held his gaze.
The gold was rising again, slow and inevitable with the moon.
“Then don’t tell me to.”
A low sound escaped him, half growl, half reluctant laughter.
He kissed her, deep and deliberate, the kind of kiss that carried both promise and farewell.
When he drew back, his forehead rested against hers.
“Bed,” he said quietly.
“We have a few hours.
I intend to use them.”
They undressed each other slowly this time.
No table, no tree, no urgency of the Change riding the edge of violence.
Just the two of them and the knowledge that tomorrow night would demand everything. The source of this chapter is g.com.
Derek laid her down on the familiar sheets and mapped her body with his mouth as if memorizing her.
Allison arched under him, fingers in his hair, letting the heat build until she was aching with it.
When he finally pushed into her, it was with a control that trembled at the edges.
He moved in long, deep strokes, eyes locked on hers, the gold bright but still human enough to hold.
Allison met him thrust for thrust, legs wrapped around his hips, the wet sound of their joining soft in the quiet room.
He brought her to the edge twice with his fingers between them before he let himself fall, burying his face in her throat as he came with a low, broken groan.
Afterward they lay tangled, his hand tracing idle patterns on her spine.
Allison listened to his heartbeat and the distant, ordinary night sounds that felt like borrowed peace.
“Whatever happens tomorrow,” she said, “I’m glad I stayed.”
Derek’s arm tightened.
“So am I.”
Sleep came in short, shallow stretches.
Outside, the moon climbed higher, silvering the trees, and the woods remained unnaturally still.