Married To Darkness
Chapter 272: Stay Behind Me

Chapter 272: Stay Behind Me

The Lucius group moved cautiously, their breaths shallow as they approached a clearing.

"This way," Jaefel said quietly, nodding toward a faint trail veering east.

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "If this is a trap—"

"It’s not," Jaefel said, his voice firm. "But if we don’t hurry, it won’t matter. The killer’s already ahead of us."

The tension between them hung heavy in the air as they stepped into the clearing, the faint glow of the moon illuminating their path.

Somewhere in the distance, the faint sound of chanting carried on the wind.

Lucius’s eyes darkened. "Let’s move."

And so they pressed on, the weight of the night pressing down on them as they ventured deeper into the unknown.

The forest was eerily quiet as Lucius, Jean, Emma, and their unexpected addition—Jaefel—moved cautiously through the moonlit woods.

Lucius’s red eyes scanned every shadow, his body tense and ready for any sudden movement.

"Keep walking," Lucius ordered, his tone sharp as Jaefel trudged ahead.

Jaefel turned slightly, irritation evident on his face. "I’m cooperating. You don’t need to treat me like some common criminal."

"You earned it," Lucius shot back, his voice low and filled with warning.

"Lucius," Jean interrupted softly, "if he’s innocent, we need to focus on the actual threat, not waste time snapping at each other."

Lucius grunted but said nothing.

Emma, still pale and shaken, walked silently, her eyes fixed on Jaefel’s back. Jean leaned closer to her. "Are you alright?"

Emma nodded hesitantly, but her voice betrayed her. "I—I just can’t believe it’s him. He’s so different."

Jaefel, overhearing, turned his head slightly. "I’ve changed because the world forced me to. Not everyone gets to live in luxury or safety," he snapped, his voice tinged with bitterness.

Lucius rolled his eyes. "Spare us the monologue, hero. If you’re not the killer, prove it."

Jaefel stopped abruptly, pointing toward the east. "That’s where I was headed before you jumped me. I’ve been tracking the actual culprit, but now they’re ahead because of you."

Lucius crossed his arms. "Convenient."

"Believe me or don’t," Jaefel said, exasperated. "But if you keep wasting time, people will die."

Jean, ever the peacemaker, stepped between them. "Enough! Lucius, let’s just see where he leads us. And Jaefel, stop acting like you’re above suspicion. If you’re innocent, help us prove it."

Lucius sighed. "Fine. But if you so much as twitch the wrong way..."

Jaefel gave him a sarcastic bow. "Understood, Your Majesty’s favorite knight."

Jean stifled a laugh as Lucius’s glare intensified.

As they walked on, the tension between Lucius and Jaefel remained palpable, but Emma’s inner turmoil was harder to ignore. She kept stealing glances at Jaefel, memories of their past colliding with the present.

"Why did you leave, Jaefel?" she finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t look back. "I didn’t leave, Enmalyn. You turned your back first."

Emma flinched at the old name, her eyes filling with tears she quickly wiped away. Jean placed a comforting hand on her shoulder but said nothing, knowing this wasn’t her place.

Lucius, catching the exchange, sighed loudly. "Can we focus on not dying tonight? Save the romance drama for when we’re not hunting murderers."

Jean snickered. "Says the man who can’t stop bickering with a knight."

"Don’t test me, Pumpkin," Lucius muttered, his eyes scanning ahead.

Suddenly, they all froze as Lucius held up a hand. "Quiet."

The faint sound of footsteps echoed in the distance, accompanied by a low murmur of voices. Lucius gestured for the group to spread out, his face serious.

"This is it," he whispered. "Stay sharp."

Jaefel stepped forward but stopped to glance at Emma. "Stay behind me."

Emma hesitated but nodded, her heart pounding.

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Don’t make me regret this."

The group moved forward, silent as shadows, their breaths barely audible. The hunt continued, and the real danger was just ahead.

~~{─────────

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Alaric moved through the shadowy forest with quiet precision, his senses sharper than ever.

The figure ahead of them darted between the trees, blending into the darkness like a phantom.

He kept his wife, Salviana, close, though a growing knot of unease tightened in his chest.

What was I thinking, bringing her here?

He glanced at her briefly, her soft features illuminated by the faint silver light of the moon. She looked serene, her eyes sparkling with quiet enjoyment.

She wasn’t afraid—if anything, she seemed to delight in the crisp night air and the adventure of it all.

What if I can’t protect her?

The thought struck him like a blade. What if something happens to her because of me?

The "what-ifs" began to spiral in his mind, relentless and unforgiving.

What if this is an ambush?

What if I’m distracted for just one second, and she— He couldn’t even finish the thought.

What if they’re not after me but her?

What if she gets hurt and I have to watch her suffer?

What if they take her, and I never find her again?

His grip on her wrist tightened slightly, and she turned to him, a small smile gracing her lips. "Are you all right, Alaric?"

He forced himself to nod, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Of course. Stay close to me."

"I always do," she said softly, her voice warm enough to melt his fears for a moment.

But his mind wouldn’t stop. What if I’m not enough? What if I fail her?

The figure ahead of them paused briefly, their movements becoming erratic, weaving between the trees as if they were trying to lose their tail. Alaric slowed, his senses heightened.

Then, a sound to their left. Faint, but unmistakable—voices.

Alaric’s body tensed. He reached for Salviana’s wrist, gently tugging her behind him. "Stay behind me," he murmured, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Salviana tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "What is it?"

Before he could answer, a sharp, slicing sound cut through the air.

SHING.

Alaric’s body jerked, his instincts not fast enough to evade entirely. A blade had grazed him, slashing across his forearm. He hissed, staggering back a step, the coppery scent of his own blood flooding his senses.