When Izabel woke, the afternoon sun was streaming through the glass balcony doors. She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her arms reached for the ceiling as she stretched out her back. Grimacing at the pain from her stomach, she placed a hand on her torso, climbing out of the bed slowly. Izabel grabbed her trousers and socks, slipping them both on, leaving her shoes on the floor next to the bedroom door and forgetting about her gun beneath the pillow. She walked out of the room, travelling quietly down the corridor to the kitchen. She trailed over to the fridge, pulling open the steel monster. As she went to grab a bottle of cool water, she frowned at another collection of bottles. A thick crimson liquid inhabited the plastic container, the colour staining the edges of the bottles. She swore to herself, backing away from the fridge, dropping the water bottle on the tiled floor. Izabel turned to run from the cabin, only to be met with Archer, stood in the doorway, the only exit from the kitchen. She began to back away from him slowly, her eyes filled with suspicion and fear.
“I didn’t hear you get up.” She said softly, her voice beginning to tremble.
He frowned slightly, tilting his head. He took a step forward, into the room, still blocking her escape route.
“I’ve been awake for a while. Light sleepers run through my family. I heard you drop something in here, and came in to make sure you were alright… Are you okay? You look kind of pale.” He took another step toward her, a worried expression on his face.
Izabel stepped back, but tripped over her own feet, falling to the floor. Archer rushed to her side, his intense green eyes watching her. She flinched away from him, clutching her stomach again. She grimaced as she moved, leaning her back against the near wall. She glared at him from her position, hating herself for being so blind.
“You didn’t say you were an Immortal. Did you forget to tell me, or just didn’t think it would be relevant as I would never leave here alive?”
Archer’s frown deepened at her words, backing away from her, giving her distance. He sighed and sat against the counter closest to him. He closed his eyes, his hands resting on his knees.
“I thought that there were more pressing matters than you knowing my nature. I was going to tell you, after I found whoever it was that’s after you. Once I knew you were safe, I was going to tell you everything.” He opened his eyes and glanced at her, a slight pain clearly visible in his irises. “I’m sorry if you thought you were in danger. I never meant for you to feel like that. I would never lay a harmful finger on you.”
She chewed her lip at his words, guilt building up inside her.
“Archer… I’m sorry. After the events back home, I’m used to being let down, proven wrong. I now jump to conclusions, good and bad.” She smirked softly, pushing memories out of her mind. “For the record, I was naïve in thinking everyone is innocent. But I won’t run. I trust you enough to stay here a little longer.”
He smiled slightly, standing up. He held out his hand for her to take, his expression soft. She grasped his hand and he effortlessly lifted her up to stand. She grimaced at the pain in her stomach, her grip on his hand tightening. Her other hand clutched her front as her knees went weak.
Archer steadied her, leading her to the couch. He sat her down and knelt in front of her, moving her other hand. He flinched at the sight of her blood-soaked top, looking back up at her. There was a hint of panic in his voice, a slice of care in his eyes.
“What happened, Izabel? Who did this to you? Please, tell me.” He took her hand in his, cradling it gently.
She shook her head, inhaling sharply at the pain. “I ran into an old friend just before I met you. He was a friend of the man who raped me. Wasn’t too happy that I survived and he didn’t. So he took precautions to make sure I never harmed anyone again.” She began to laugh, but doubled over, both arms wrapped around her stomach. “It’s nothing too much to worry about. Just a minor scratch, is all.”
He slowly moved her arms, lifting up her top over her stomach, to reveal a long, deep dagger wound just below her ribcage. She hissed with pain as he laid her down on the couch. He bit into his wrist, placing it over her mouth. “Drink and it’ll heal you. Don’t worry, you’ll still be human. I’d have to kill you for you to be turned, and I don’t plan on doing that anytime soon.”
She frowned softly, but pressed her lips against his cool skin, beginning to drink slowly. Her wound eventually began to seal, and she sat back, releasing his wrist. She laid her head back against the arm of the couch and closed her eyes, and sighed a breath of relief, a strand of hair falling onto her face. Archer smiled to himself and raised his hand, moving the strand of hair. Izabel opened her eyes and gazed at him, confused at his actions.
“Thank-you, Archer, for everything. I’ve used up too much of your time now, so I’ll go.” She stood up carefully, walked into the bedroom and slipped into her shoes, grabbing her gun from underneath the pillow. Placing the gun on her jeans, she turned round to find Archer in the door, blocking her way, yet again. But his expression was soft, kind. He walked forward, lightly grasping her hand in his.
“You don’t have to leave, Izabel. These past few hours… I’ve felt something for you. I might be stupid in hoping, but it’s just how I felt ever since I met you.” He sighed, looking at their hands. “Iz… I think I’m in love with you.” His usually intense green eyes now held some emotion, some light that wasn’t there before.
“And I thought I was the only one that was hopeful in this cabin.” Izabel breezed, a playful smile appearing. He laughed softly, stepping closer to her. He leaned down, inhaled deeply, and pressed his cold, smooth lips against her warm ones. He placed a soft hand on the back of her neck, bringing her closer to him, his kiss increasing in passion. She tensed against him, and then relaxed, closing her eyes. She returned the kiss, resting her hands on his chest. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, holding her up against his cool skin. She ran one hand through his hair, her other gently on his shoulder.
Archer let go of her neck, bringing his head back. He exhaled softly, opening his calm green eyes. He looked into her eyes and smiled, kissing her forehead. She glanced back up at him, worry in her eyes. Archer frowned, letting go of her gently.
“What is it, Iz? Did I do something wrong?” His frown deepened, slight fear in his voice. Izabel shook her head, chewing her lip.
“You’ve done nothing wrong. Yet, anyway. I can’t help thinking that you’re just like the rest. I worry that you’ll leave as soon as I turn my back. How do I know that you’re not the same as the others? How do I know you’ll love me in the morning?” She dropped her gaze to the floor, holding back the urge to grip onto him and never let go.
He lightly lifted her head to look at him again, his brow raised. “Do you really have to ask that question?” He kissed her lips softly again, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I love you, and nothing will change that. No-one can ever change that, and it will never happen. Okay?”
She nodded silently and breathed deeply. “Okay.” She wrapped her arms around his body, burying her face on his shirt. He cocooned her in his arms, kissing the top of her head.
“Would you like something to eat? I’m an excellent cook, if I do say so myself.” He smirked softly, stroking her hair.
“I am feeling a little peckish, actually. But I’ll bet you can’t cook my favourite meal. I only know of two people that can, and one is deceased.”
He brought his head back, a playful smile on his face. “Why, Izabel. I do believe you just set me a challenge.” He picked her up and carried her in his arms to the kitchen. He set her down gently on the counter and walked over to the sink, washing his hands. “So what is this rare meal I won’t be able to cook?” He chuckled softly as he spoke. Her legs swung in the air, watching his actions. “It’s not a rare meal, I just only know two people that can cook it to perfection. It’s called Greek Cesar salad. The flavours are Greek but the chicken is cooked to Roman standards. Don’t forget the olive oil and black olives.” She smiled softly, leaning back against the wall.
Archer grabbed a towel and dried his hands as he turned to faced her, leaning against the side. “Well I’ll see what I can do, but I doubt a dead man could cook faster than me.” He winked at her and turned back to the counter. Suddenly the window exploded and a man jumped through. He snarled at Izabel, his dirty blonde hair slicked back with grease. He dived at her, his black nails reaching for her. Izabel screamed, pressing herself up against the wall, trying to get away from the threat. But Archer appeared in front of her and grabbed the man by his neck. He held the man off the ground, his other hand ripped out the heart of the intruder. The lifeless body was thrown out the shattered window, into the pitch black night, along with the motionless heart.
Archer stood there, his chest heaving with his deep breaths. He then turned away from Izabel, his eyes a dead black. He left the kitchen, walking out of the cabin, toward the lake. Izabel sat there for a while, trying to register what just happened. She exhaled deeply, realising she was holding her breath. She shimmied off the counter, stepping around pool of blood on the tiled floor. Izabel wondered over to a cupboard and took out a mop and bucket, and began to clean up the mess, while she thought about what to do next.

Outside, Archer sat down by the edge of the lake, his arms wrapped around his legs. He sighed softly, resting his head on his knees. The man’s blood was soaked in his shirt, the scent intoxicating. He ripped off the shirt, throwing it away from him. Archer shivered at the cool air, closing his eyes. She probably hated him, he thought. She would see him as a monster, a killer. She would want nothing to do with him anymore. He doubted she was still in the cabin. She had probably left as soon as he was gone, rushing around the cabin to grab her stuff and then ran from him, getting as much distance between them as possible.

Izabel walked out of the cabin, standing on the porch when she had finished in the kitchen. She leaned against the wooden column, watching Archer at the base of the hill. She chewed her lip nervously, a part of her wanting to tell him her real past. About her father, her sister… She shook her head; angry at herself for thinking she could trust anyone. She sighed and walked down to him, placing a soft hand on his shoulder. Archer tensed at her touch, not expecting her to even look at him. His shoulders slumped, his head bowed.
“Izabel, I’m sorry you had to see me like that… I didn’t want you to ever meet that side of me… You should go now, I won’t keep you here.” He closed his eyes and waited for her to leave. He didn’t anticipate her next move.
Izabel rolled her eyes and smacked him round the back of the head playfully. She sat down beside him, resting her head on his arm. “Archer, if I wanted to leave, I wouldn’t be here in the first place. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” She laughed softly, kissing his arm. “Now, what do you want to do tonight? I can’t think of anything so it’s your choice.”
He rubbed his head after the hit, chuckling at her comment. He kissed the top of her head softly and sighed. “I can think of many things, but only two that wouldn’t kill you.”
She raised her head, curious at his words. “Oh really? And what would these two things be?”
He smirked, shaking his head. “Not here, it’s too cold.” He stood up, and picked her up quickly, carrying her over his shoulder, walking back up the cabin. She gasped as she was pulled up, and then giggled softly, beginning to wriggle beneath his grip. “This really isn’t funny, Archer. Put me down, or so help me…”
He laughed as they got to the cabin. He set her down on the porch and opened the door for her to enter first. Her brow arched slightly, but she walked in, paranoia starting to form in her mind. She never liked entering a room first, not when someone was behind her. Archer closed the door behind them and walked up to her, slipping his arms around her waist. With one hand she pushed her hair from her neck, his lips trailing gently over her skin.
“So help you what?” He spoke in barely a whisper, his breath passing over her neck. “What makes you think you could stop me from doing anything I wanted?” He kissed up her neck to her jawline, a playful smile on his face.
Izabel froze, his words reminding her of her father. She closed her eyes, holding back the tears that had been strangers for a long time. Her heartbeat quickened, her fear increasing with each of his kisses. “Archer, please stop. Let go of me.”
Archer frowned and let go, turning her to face him. He wiped a stray tear that had fallen, his frown deepening. “Love, what is it?” He embraced her in a protective hug as she began to weep, her head in her hands. “Shh, it’s okay Iz. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to scare you…” He rested his head softly on hers; worried and confused at why she was reacting like this. She shook her head, calming herself down. “It’s okay, just having a little moment.” She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. He raised his brow, doubting her.
“Now I know that’s a lie. Tell me, Iz, please. Then I can help with whatever’s wrong. I can make it right, honestly.”
She backed away, willing herself not to tell him. He didn’t need to know about her father, he didn’t need to know the truth. Archer would never meet Richard, so there was no point. She glared at him, folding her arms over her chest. “And what makes you think you could ever help? There is nothing you can offer me, so just drop it.” She made her tone of voice harsh, cold, so he would believe it.
He was taken aback by her response, not used to the anger from her. He began to say something, but decided against it, not wanting to make the situation any worse. “Okay, Iz. Whatever you want, love. I’ll leave you be if that’s what you really want.” He turned away and walked into the kitchen, leaving her alone.
Izabel cursed herself and left the cabin, walking to the edge of the forest. She sat down, her back against the tree. She sighed and closed her eyes, knowing that it was for the best that he didn’t know.

A few hours passed when Izabel suddenly felt the cold touch of metal, a knife being held to her throat. She kept still, sensing the jagged edge of the blade a second away from slicing open her jugular. A dark shadow was cast next to her, but she knew already who it was. The figure leaned down, speaking low into her ear. “You’re good, Izabel, but I’m better. You thought you could get away from your own flesh and blood?” He chuckled maliciously, the stench of animal blood and body parts reeking from his mouth. “You are mine, and always will be. I don’t care if you’ve got a new man on the scene, he’s just a pup. You honestly thought you could hide from your amily.” It was more of a statement than a question. Izabel turned slowly, being careful not to cut herself on the blade. She glanced up at the man, ignoring the overpowering aroma of the deceased wildlife. “I was just thinking about you, Father.” Her expression softened, pushing the fear in her mind deep away.
The man laughed deep, pressing the blade into her throat. “I can smell your fear from a mile away, precious. Your sister always was the stronger one of the twins. Is dear Magpy with you? I haven’t seen her in many a full moon.”
She held her breath and didn’t speak, not daring to put pressure on the knife. She simply whispered slowly, praying she would survive. “No, Father.”
He grunted, glancing around him. “Shame, I always loved her. Now, you’re coming home with me. Morana has been turning up more often and I need to send the b**** back to Hell, once and for all.”
Her eyes widened in fear at the mention of Morana. Izabel hadn’t had an episode for so long, but, if she had retuned… She dissolved the thoughts, ignoring her fear. The blade moved away from her throat so she could speak. “Are… Are you sure, Father? I haven’t heard anything since last time…” She sighed and shook her head. “But it doesn’t matter; I’m not coming back with you. I need to start a new life, away from you, Magpy, even Alex…” She was worried about her brother too. He was as vindictive as her father, but more vicious than Morana, no heart or emotions to deter him from his work.
Richard gripped her throat and hoisted her up, pushing her up against the tree, splinters digging through her top to her back, burying themselves in her skin. Her nails scraped at his hand, trying to breathe. “You dare defy me?! You have become insolent and have forgotten your place, speaking against your own father!” His grip tightened, crushing her windpipe.
Tears welled in her eyes as her vision began to blur. Her arms fell to her sides, her energy leaving her. Everything was going dark, and she knew she would never win against Richard. She damned herself, wishing Archer was here. She wanted to apologise to him for lying, for hurting him. Now she would never have the chance. She would never see him again even if she did live. The last person she felt something for, and she pushed him away. The world around her went black as her heart slowed down, her body sagging, unconscious.