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Mirek didn’t answer imdiately.

His grip on Vai adjusted subtly, as his eyes swept over the surrounding space—the waterfall veil, the winding stream, the stone paths disappearing deeper into the enclosed terrain.

"We’ll stay," he said at last. "For now."

His gaze moved upwards. "The canyon walls are unstable. Climbing out without preparation would be suicide."

Lavayla nodded. That aligned with what Nessa had hinted at earlier.

"And food?" she asked casually, though her stomach betrayed her with a quiet, traitorous growl.

Vai chose that mont to giggle.

Mirek glanced down at him, then back at Lavayla. "I’ll hunt."

Her eyes flicked to his injuries—clean now, but still fresh in places. "You’re not pushing yourself?"

"I’ve had worse," he replied flatly.

Lavayla humd, unconvinced but not arguing. Instead, her gaze drifted toward the inner cave—toward the coiled Primal plant and the quiet power humming beneath the stone.

"...Good," she said after a beat. "Because there are a few things we need to talk about."

Mirek studied her closely.

"Firstly," Lavayla said, lifting a finger, slipping neatly into problem-solving mode, "you hunt, and I’ll cook." She paused, then frowned slightly. "Wait—are there even beasts here?"

Mirek nodded once. "There are. Solitary types. Stealth-oriented." His gaze sharpened. "They don’t reveal themselves easily."

"Oh, good," she said, oddly relieved. Then she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "Honestly, if it weren’t for the tiny issue of very obviously not being able to hunt—" she waved that thought away, lips pressing together, "—forget it. The point is, you’re still injured. And part of that is because of ."

She t his eyes, serious now.

"So the least I can do is cook. I’ll handle food prep. Cleaning too. I’ll take care of everything on that end."

Mirek frowned almost imdiately.

"You don’t have to," he said firmly. "We’re both here. You’ve taken care of my nephew. You saved his life." His voice lowered. "I can’t ask you to do more than that."

Lavayla opened her mouth, but he continued.

"My saving you was because you saved first. Even if I wouldn’t have died, I would’ve been gravely injured." His eyes were steady, unwavering. "So you don’t owe anything. Hunting isn’t a burden to . It’s sothing I can do easily."

A brief pause.

"I won’t let you take everything onto yourself."

Lavayla studied him for a second, then tilted her head, lips curving faintly.

"...Alright," she said, conceding. "Then we split everything equally."

Mirek inclined his head once. Agreent.

"Secondly," Lavayla continued smoothly, shifting gears, "about sleeping arrangents. The cave is deep enough, and since you’ll need to absorb the condensed primal energy, we should both sleep in the deepest part of the cave."

Mirek nodded without hesitation. "No problem."

"Good." She hesitated for half a beat, then added, "There’s also sothing I want to ask."

"Go on."

"The beast you killed earlier—the one guarding the condensed primal energy." She clasped her hands lightly. "I’d like to request its hide. The skin. I need it for sothing."

Mirek didn’t even pause.

"I can," he said simply.

He shifted Vai into her arms with practiced ease, the baby barely reacting as he was transferred, already used to the movent. Then Mirek turned back toward the inner cave—before stopping mid-step.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked over his shoulder.

Lavayla blinked, then shook her head. "No—" she paused, reconsidering, "—I an, yes. Can I see what the beast core looks like when you’re done?"

Mirek glanced back at her.

"...Alright."

Lavayla smiled faintly, adjusting Vai against her chest as the baby let out a pleased little sound.

Lavayla glanced around the cavern once more, committing the layout to mory, then shifted Vai higher against her chest before carefully making her way down the gentle slope toward a cluster of hardy plants growing near the stream’s bend.

The vegetation there was thick but pliable—long, fibrous leaves and flexible branches that bent without snapping. Perfect.

She knelt and began gathering what she needed, snapping longer branches down to similar lengths and stripping excess leaves before bundling them together. Using thinner vines, she tied the branches tightly at one end, weaving the vines through with practiced motions.

It wasn’t pretty.

But it would sweep.

Once satisfied, Lavayla stood, brushed dirt from her hands, and headed back toward the cave entrance with her makeshift broom slung over one shoulder and Vai humming softly against her chest.

As she approached, the air changed.

The scent hit her first—iron-heavy, sharp.

Her steps slowed.

Near the entrance, Mirek was already at work.

The beast’s massive body lay sprawled across the stone, and Mirek crouched beside it, claws extended, slicing cleanly through thick hide. His movents were efficient, practiced, utterly rciless. Muscle shifted beneath his skin as he worked, expression cold and focused, eyes stripped of warmth.

Lavayla swallowed.

For just a mont, she saw him not as Vai’s uncle, not as the man who’d stood silently guarding her earlier—but as a true apex predator.

A beastman.

Her stomach fluttered—not fear exactly, but sothing instinctive and sharp.

She quickly looked away.

"...Yeah. Still not immune to that," she muttered under her breath.

Adjusting her grip on Vai, she skirted wide around the scene and continued on her way, deliberately focusing on her task instead of the slick sound of flesh parting behind her.

So things, she decided, were better appreciated from a distance or maybe not at all.

She walked past the slope and headed deeper into the cave, where the stone widened into a broad, sheltered hollow. Looking around again, the ceiling arched higher here, the rock smoothed by ti and water, forming a natural chamber that felt—if not comfortable—at least livable.

She carefully lowered Vai onto her forearm and crouched, making sure he was settled safely on a flat, dry stretch of stone. The baby blinked up at her, then promptly tried to shove his fist into his mouth.

"Alright," she murmured, brushing a thumb over his cheek. "Stay right there, little nace."

She picked up the makeshift broom and began sweeping.

The motion was slow at first, awkward. Dry leaves scraped against stone, loose soil puffing into the air with each stroke. But as she settled into a rhythm, the work beca almost ditative. Leaves, grit, and old debris were pushed steadily toward one side of the chamber, the cave floor gradually revealing its natural stone beneath.

By the ti she finished, a sizable heap of dirt and dry leaves sat piled near the wall.

Lavayla leaned on the broom for a mont, catching her breath. Her arms burned faintly, but she felt oddly satisfied.

"Okay," she muttered. "That’s one problem handled."

She propped the broom against the wall, gave Vai a quick glance to make sure he hadn’t rolled—or mysteriously vanished—then headed back toward the entrance.

As she passed the wider cavern, her eyes flicked instinctively toward Mirek.

He was still at work.

The beast’s massive body was cut into clean sections. Mirek’s claws moved with brutal efficiency, slicing through hide and sinew as though it were nothing more than thick fabric. His expression was cold, focused—so unlike the man who’d pressed a kiss to his nephew’s head earlier that it made Lavayla shiver.

She looked away quickly and kept walking.

Outside the inner chamber, she crouched and began searching for fire materials.

First, stones.

She picked through the scattered rocks near the stream, selecting two that looked dense and hard—dark gray with sharp edges. She struck them together experintally.

Clack.

A spark flashed briefly.

"Yes," she whispered, pleased.

She gathered a small pile and set them aside, then moved on to tinder—dry leaves from the swept pile, brittle moss clinging to shaded rock, thin strips of bark she peeled carefully from fallen wood near the water’s edge.

Finally, she collected kindling: slender branches snapped into manageable lengths, stacking them neatly against the wall where the cave stayed dry.

When she was done, she sat back on her heels and surveyed her work.

Fire materials: ready.

Sleeping space: cleared.

Baby: alive, happy, chewing on his fingers.

Lavayla let out a tired breath and wiped her hands on her clothes.

"...Not bad," she said quietly.

From deeper in the cave, the sound of tearing flesh echoed faintly.

Dinner, apparently, was on its way.

She glanced toward the inner chamber, then down at Vai, who looked up at her with wide, curious eyes.

"Well," she said softly, a wry smile tugging at her lips, "looks like we’re really settling in, huh?"

Vai responded by babbling enthusiastically.

Lavayla sighed, already resigned.

Yeah. They were. For today and until they find a way out of here.

——

Hello everyone,

Thank you so much for reading my book and for giving it a chance. Thank you for every form of support—voting with your power stones, golden tickets, unlocking Chapters, buying privilege. Truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

I made a promise and I wasn’t able to keep it. For that, I’m genuinely sorry. I won’t make excuses—I know how much your support ans, and I understand the disappointnt. Still, I’m grateful that you stayed, and that you supported anyway.

This year hasn’t been easy, but I thank God for life. I thank God for the strength to keep going, for the ability to write, to create, and to share stories with you all. I’m thankful that we made it to the end of this year, and I pray that we all move forward safely and stronger.

I hope next year brings growth, healing, success, and better days for all of us. I hope you achieve great things—things even bigger than what you’re dreaming of now.

Thank you, always, for being here with .

Happy New Year in a few hours 🎉

Wishing you a prosperous, peaceful, and beautiful year ahead.

I love you all. Thank you 🤍

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