The motel smelled like mildew and cheap soap.
Cain sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his bruised knuckles, flexing his fingers like he could stretch the anger out of his bones.
Riven was curled up on the other bed, pretending to read a book he'd already flipped through three times. His hoodie was still on, sleeves pulled over his hands like armor.
Elias leaned against the window, staring out into the night.
The neon sign outside buzzed and flickered — VACANCY — like it was barely hanging on, same as them.
Nobody spoke for a long time.
It wasn't that they didn't want to. It was that they were all waiting for something to break.
Cain finally let out a rough breath and muttered, "We need to move. Tonight."
Elias turned, frowning. "You serious?"
Cain nodded. His jaw clenched tight enough to hurt. "After that missing girl poster? After the way they looked at us today? We're not staying to find out what happens next."
Elias didn't argue. He just dragged a hand through his hair and cursed under his breath.
"You think they're gonna come for us?" Riven asked quietly.
Cain didn't answer right away. He didn't have to. The answer was written all over his face.
They had seen it too many times in too many towns.
It always started with whispers.
Then it turned into torches and guns.
And no matter how fast they ran, it never felt fast enough.
"We'll leave after midnight," Cain said. "Less people. Less questions."
Riven nodded, but Cain could see the fear flickering behind his eyes.
He hated this part the most — the running, the leaving everything half-done, half-lived.
They had never stayed long enough anywhere to even learn the street names.
"You think it's gonna be different next time?" Riven asked, almost a whisper.
Cain swallowed hard. He hated lying to him.
But what else was he supposed to say?
"Yeah," he lied softly. "It'll be better."
Riven gave a small, broken smile and went back to pretending to read.
Cain stood up and grabbed the duffel bag from under the bed. It wasn't much — a few clothes, a couple of stolen bills, an old photograph crumpled at the bottom.
A photo of the three of them, younger, before things got so bad.
Before the blood cravings got harder to control.
Before Cain realized he could hear people's heartbeats if he stood too close.
Before Riven started waking up with blood on his hands and no memory of what he'd done.
Cain zipped the bag shut and slung it over his shoulder.
"We'll wait till it's quiet," Elias said, glancing out the window. "Then we move."
Cain nodded and sat back down, but he didn't relax.
He couldn't.
The hunger was stirring inside him again. Worse at night, always worse.
He clenched his teeth, breathing slow, trying to beat it back.
He didn't want to hurt anyone.
He didn't want to be what they said he was.
But sometimes... sometimes it felt like the monster was winning.
Riven shifted on the bed, pulling his hoodie tighter around him like he could hide from the world. Cain wanted to tell him it was going to be okay, that they'd find a place where nobody knew them, where they could just be normal boys.
Not cursed.
Not hunted.
He wanted to believe it himself.
Outside, the night deepened.
Somewhere far off, a dog barked.
The neon sign buzzed and buzzed and buzzed.
Cain closed his eyes, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on him.
The hunger.
The fear.
The blood he couldn't escape.
He wasn't sure if they were running toward something or just running because it was the only thing they knew how to do anymore.
Either way, they'd keep moving.
Together.
Because in a world that saw them as monsters, all they had was each other.
And that had to be enough.