"Again," I said as she adjusted "Stronger... Own the ground you're standing on."
She moved clumsily at first, frustration flaring across her face but every time she faltered, I steadied her with quiet words, a guiding touch and with each repetition, her movements grew sharper, more sure.
By the tenth try, sweat dotted her brow, but her eyes carried something different. Not defiance exactly, but the beginnings of belief.
"Better," I murmured.
She let out a shaky laugh "You make it sound like I'm not hopeless after all."
"You're not," I said, stepping closer, lowering my voice "You're just untrained and there's a difference."
Her breath hitched. Not just from the closeness, but from the realization — she could change. She wasn't doomed to be the same woman Victor had broken before.
We were still practicing when a sharp thud rattled the door.
Both of us froze.
The sound was soft. Too soft to be a random knock.
Aria's face drained of color "He's—"
"Shh." I pressed a finger to my lips. We moved silently, my body instinctively placing itself between her and the door.
Another sound followed. Not a knock this time, but a scrape. Something sliding under the threshold.
I stooped down carefully and pulled the object inside. A small, folded card, no name, no signature. Just the faint scent of smoke clinging to the paper.
I opened it slowly.
The message was short. Four words scrawled in a hand I didn't recognize but didn't need to.
"Running lessons won't help."
Aria's breath caught. Her trembling returned full-force.
I clenched my jaw, crushing the card in my fist. He knew. He had seen us. He was watching.
turned back to her, forcing calm into my voice even as rage boiled inside me "Then we'll make sure he learns something too."
For the first time, Aria didn't just look afraid. She looked furious.
And that was exactly what Victor hadn't counted on.
The card still burned in my fist, even though I had crumpled it into a tight ball. Four words. That was all Victor needed to remind us that his shadow reached farther than we thought.
Aria stood stiff near the wall, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her expression unreadable. Fear was there, yes, but something else lingered beneath it—something rawer.
Anger.
I wanted to hold her, to tell her he couldn't touch her as long as I was here but lies were poison and Victor's note had made one thing brutally clear: this place was no longer safe.
I moved to the window, carefully parting the blinds. Rain streaked the glass, blurring the city lights into smears of silver and gold. The alley outside looked empty, but my instincts screamed otherwise.
"He's close," I muttered.
Aria's voice came soft but edged "Then we run again?"
Her words stung—not because she was wrong, but because I hated the truth in them. We were running. Every step, every breath since I found her had been about keeping one step ahead of him and yet, here we were, caught in his game again.
"No," I said after a beat "Not just running. Moving smart. We can't let him drive us into his traps."
She tilted her head, studying me. Her eyes were sharper tonight, less broken glass, more steel "Then what do we do?"
I glanced around the safehouse—the peeling wallpaper, the worn sofa, the table where we'd just been training. For a fleeting moment, it had felt like ours. Now it was a cage.
I turned back to her "We leave tonight. No waiting until morning."
Her jaw tightened "And go where? He knows this city."
I stepped closer, lowering my voice "So do I."
She held my gaze for a long moment, as if weighing the measure of my certainty against her own doubts. Finally, she exhaled and nodded.
"Alright," she said "But if we're leaving, I need to know something first."
"What?"
Her throat worked as she swallowed, and for the first time since I'd met her, her voice cracked—not from fear, but from vulnerability.
"Why me? Why are you risking all of this for me? You don't even—" She broke off, shaking her head "You could walk away, and no one would blame you."
The question was a knife. Not because I didn't know the answer, but because saying it out loud felt like handing her a piece of myself I hadn't given anyone.
I stepped closer, close enough that I could see the stormlight flicker in her eyes. "Because when I look at you, Aria, I don't see what Victor left behind. I see what he couldn't break and I'll be damned before I let him finish what he started."
Her lips parted slightly, a shiver of breath escaping. For a moment, the storm outside seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of us, suspended between fear and something far deeper.
She blinked hard, as if trying to banish the heat rising between us, and nodded once, curtly "Then let's go."
We packed fast. Essentials only—water, a change of clothes, cash I had stashed in a hollowed-out book. Aria moved with quiet efficiency, though I noticed her hands trembled when she zipped the worn backpack shut.
When everything was ready, I checked the windows one last time. The alley was still empty, but the silence pressed too heavy, too unnatural.
Victor was patient. Too patient.
I turned to Aria "We stick to the shadows. No lights. If you hear anything—anything—you tell me. Understand?"
She nodded.
We slipped into the night.
The city greeted us with damp air and streets that gleamed like glass under the storm. Our footsteps echoed softly as we moved, close but careful, weaving through alleys and backstreets.
Aria stayed at my side, her backpack slung tightly, her breath steady but quick. I kept my senses wide open—every sound, every flicker of movement catalogued.
For a while, it felt like we were ghosts. Untouchable. Just two shadows slipping through the veins of the city.
But then, as we turned a corner, I saw it.
Spray-painted on the brick wall ahead, fresh and dripping from the rain, were two words.
Found you.
Aria froze, her hand tightening around my arm.
And in that instant, I knew—Victor wasn't chasing anymore.
He was herding us.
The paint still dripped in uneven streaks, fresh and taunting... Found you.
Aria's breath hitched. She pressed back against the wall, her nails digging into my sleeve. Her pulse hammered so hard I could feel it through her grip.
"They're close," she whispered, eyes darting to the darkened alleys around us.
I forced myself to stay steady. Panic was exactly what Victor wanted — fear clouded judgment, made us predictable.
I scanned the street. The night was quiet, too quiet. Even the usual hum of the city seemed muted, like the whole block was holding its breath.
"Listen to me," I murmured, turning just enough to catch her eyes "They want us to run blindly. We won't. We move smart, we move quiet, and we don't let them control the pace."
Her lips pressed into a tight line, but she nodded.
I tugged her gently along, guiding us down a narrow side street. My senses sharpened with each step — the glisten of water pooling in potholes, the flicker of a neon sign three blocks away, the faint echo of something metal shifting where no wind blew.
Someone was following.
Not close enough to see yet, but there.
I slowed, drawing Aria into the deeper shadows of a recessed doorway "Stay behind me," I whispered.
She opened her mouth to protest, but I shook my head, firm. Her hand hovered in the air for a moment, then curled into a fist at her side.
The scrape of footsteps grew louder... Deliberate... Unhurried.
Not Victor, he didn't waste his presence on approaches like this. These were his men—wolves testing the edges before the kill.
A shadow emerged at the far end of the street. Tall, broad, hooded. Another followed behind, silent but heavy-footed.
Aria stiffened, sucking in a breath. I touched her arm gently "Not a sound."
The two figures stopped near the dripping wall of paint. One bent slightly, brushing his hand against the wet letters. He laughed, a low, guttural sound that carried through the silence.
"They'll see it," he muttered.
"They already have," the other replied.
My grip on Aria tightened. They weren't just leaving messages—they knew we were here.
I had two choices: wait it out and risk being cornered, or move now and gamble on the element of surprise.
I turned to her, my voice barely audible "When I move, stay with me. Don't hesitate..... Don't look back. Understand?"
Her eyes met mine. Wide, frightened—but steady..... She nodded.
I drew in a breath, felt the storm pressing heavy in my chest, and prepared to step out of the shadows.
But before I could, a third voice rang out from somewhere unseen.
Enough games.....bring her to me."
The words slithered through the night, calm and deliberate.