Meanwhile, deeper in the forest…
The real Lucas stood among the ruins of a battle.
Green blood stained the ground, splattered across the moss and leaves. His silver pistol hissed with faint smoke. His claws were still extended, glistening with the foul essence of the beasts he'd just slaughtered.
He didn't breathe hard.
Didn't even look tired.
But when he heard footsteps behind him, the illusion of calm cracked.
He turned swiftly, gun still raised, only to find his coachman approaching tentative, nervous.
Lucas's eyes narrowed.
"You were told to guard the carriage."
"I brought clean clothes, sir," the man said quickly, holding up a bundle of white fabric. "I thought—"
Lucas snatched the cloth and wiped the green slime from his hands, his jaw tight.
"You thought wrong."
The coachman bowed low, lips trembling.
"I told you," Lucas growled, "to protect her."
Then, something caught his attention. A breeze where there shouldn't be one. The faintest shift in the forest's balance.
He turned sharply toward the road—his expression darkening.
The carriage was gone.
No horses. No wheels. No trace.
Just silence.
No.
With a burst of speed, Lucas slammed a fist into the coachman's jaw, sending him sprawling to the dirt.
"You had one job!" he snapped. "And now someone something has taken my place."
---
Elsewhere, in the deep forest…
The carriage rolled on, deeper into shadow.
Evie sat stiffly, trying not to let her nerves show. The man across from her Lucas, or so he appeared—hadn't spoken since returning. He stared out the window, face unreadable, detached.
Something was off. It wasn't just the silence it was how wrong his stillness felt. Like a painting of a man, not the real thing.
When they came to a stop again, the coachman stepped down without a word and opened the door.
Evie waited, expecting Lucas to offer a hand, or at least a glance.
Nothing.
He stepped out and walked into the trees without so much as a backward glance.
Evie hesitated, then climbed out on her own, her boots crunching against twigs and leaves. She spotted him ahead, walking fast—too fast.
"Lucas!" she called. "Wait for me!"
He didn't stop. Didn't even turn his head.
Her stomach dropped.
She followed him, her steps quickening, heart racing.
Why is he acting like this? Why won't he look at me?
---
Back near the carriage…
The fake coachman watched them vanish into the woods. A slow smile curled his lips.
His tongue darted out to wet them.
"She's so warm," he murmured. "Can't wait to feel her struggle."
And then, laughing softly to himself, he slipped into the forest after them, hands twitching in anticipation.
Evie ran, her feet thudding against the forest floor as she tried to catch up with the figure ahead of her.
Lucas.
She couldn't help but wonder if he was still upset about her accusations back at the office. But that didn't make sense. In the carriage, their conversation had seemed normal. Distant, yes—but not angry.
At least, not until he came back.
"Lucas, I'm sorry for what I said back at the office," Evie called out. "I shouldn't have said all those things—or used such harsh words. I'm really sorry."
She slowed down a little, breathing hard. He turned to look at her.
His eyes.
Pitch black.
They glared at her, unblinking. But before she could say more, he was gone.
Evie blinked in confusion. She looked around the forest. Trees towered above her on all sides, their shadows swallowing the path. Leaves rustled quietly in the wind. But the spot where Lucas had stood just a second ago was now empty.
Where did he go?
She looked left and right, spun in a circle. Still nothing. Was he seriously playing hide and seek now? That didn't seem like him. He was always so composed. So serious. It was strange—childish even.
"Lucas, I'm tired," she called out. "I can't play this game of yours. My legs hurt from chasing after you."
Still no answer. Just more trees and silence.
She pressed on, deeper into the woods, her light grey eyes scanning every shadow. But the farther she walked, the more something began to gnaw at her gut. Something was wrong.
Lucas was a hybrid vampire. His eyes were always red. Sharp, glowing, and intense.
But a few minutes ago… they were black.
Back in the carriage, he hadn't spoken to her. He hadn't helped her get down like he usually did. She'd thought he was tired.
But now, she understood.
He hadn't recognized her.
Evie's heart started to race. Her mind flashed back to a book she'd read not long ago. It spoke of clones—dark magic creations made to look exactly like a person, copied down to the last feature, but lacking a soul.
That meant the Lucas who left the carriage was real.
And the one who came back?
A clone.
"Are you alright, Miss Roward?" came a voice behind her.
She turned slowly. He was back, standing a few feet away.
She remembered reading that some clones could identify people—read their emotions and thoughts easily. It was how they mimicked others so well.
Evie forced a smile and nodded. "Yes. I just wanted to tie my shoes."
She crouched, squatting low, pretending to tie her lace—though she noticed it was actually loose this time. She tugged it tighter, buying herself a few seconds. Then she stood up, slipping one hand into the pocket of her dress as she walked toward him.
"What kind of animal do you plan to hunt today, Mr. Lucas?" she asked sweetly, her tone light and innocent.
The clone tilted his head, as if considering her question. She watched him closely, unable to ignore how close the resemblance was to the real thing.
"I don't know," he replied. "What animal do you want to hunt, Miss Alden?"
His eyes dropped to her neck, lingering for just a second too long.
Evie gave a polite laugh. "I'm honored that you're thinking of me first, but... I'm not feeling very well. I think I'd like to go home now."
She took a step back.
The creature frowned, taking three steps forward.
But she didn't let him close the gap.
She stepped back—five bold strides.
He stopped, realizing she wasn't going to let him near.
"Why do you not feel well now?" he asked, his voice calm. "You looked perfectly fine before. Your skin color hasn't changed at all."
Evie searched quickly for a believable lie. Then she bit the inside of her cheek—hard—until she tasted blood. The pain made her face pale slightly.
"I have dendrophobia," she said, faking a small cough. "I forgot how deep we were going into the woods."
"Why didn't you say that earlier? Why follow me into the forest, then?" he asked, stepping forward as if to touch her.
Evie turned quickly and started walking back the way she came. "I forgot. If you still want to hunt, you can go on without me. I'll head back first."
She walked for a long time, not daring to look behind her. Every step felt heavier than the last.
Then a gust of wind swept through the trees, sending leaves swirling through the air. She shut her eyes for a second to keep debris out, and when she opened them—
He was in front of her again.
But he was changing.
The Lucas she'd seen moments ago was now half-morphed into something monstrous. Twisted. Inhuman. His body shifted with sickening cracks, his mouth stretching into a cold, grotesque smile.
"You knew I wasn't him," he said, voice distorted. "That's why you kept your distance. You're quite a bit smarter than I thought."
Then he lunged at her.
But halfway there, he stopped, staggering as a sharp pain struck his lower abdomen.
He looked down in disbelief.
Green, slimy liquid poured from the wound.
He looked up at Evie, frowning.
This puny human had dared stab him with a wooden blade.