The facility burned behind us.
But I didn't look back.
There was no need.
I'd memorized every hallway, every wall. I knew where the cameras were, the vents, the weak spots. I knew how many guards had been on rotation tonight. I knew how many of the guests had arrived in gold-trimmed robes, expecting to be entertained.
And I knew they were all dead or dying now.
Nine stumbled beside me, breathing hard but moving. He hadn't let go of my hand since we left the banquet. Not when the alarms screamed louder. Not when the sprinklers activated overhead, drenching us in artificial rain. Not when the flames had started curling through the vents.
Not when we passed the chamber where he had been tied up.
He'd only whispered, "Don't stop. Please don't stop."
I hadn't.
Now, Kade was waving us through the final checkpoint—two massive security gates now pried open by Kol's explosives. Smoke curled through the air, thick and acidic. Somewhere behind us, part of the ceiling groaned as it began to collapse.
"Everyone's out," Kade said. His eyes flicked to Nine, then to me. "We've got the hybrids. They're scattered but free. And the creatures are still inside."
"Good."
I turned back, heart pounding in my throat.
The canisters I'd hidden days ago—the ones labeled as waste disposal units—were rigged with enough ignition compound to torch the whole underground level. I'd placed them near the lab, the control room, the private guest suites. Every place that had touched Nine.
Kol gave me the nod.
I raised the detonator.
"For every time they thought they owned us," I whispered, voice low.
Then I pressed the button.
The world shook.
The explosion was deep and violent, rippling through the ground beneath our feet. Fire roared upward like a beast finally unchained. The sky lit up behind us—orange, red, gold. Beautiful. Wrathful.
Ash rained down like snow.
Nine's hand tightened in mine.
I turned to him.
He was staring, jaw slack, eyes reflecting the blaze. His skin was smudged with soot and blood. His lip was split. One of his wrists was bruised where they'd tied him too tightly.
But he was alive.
More than alive.
He looked like something reborn.
I stepped closer, brushing hair from his face.
"You're free now," I said.
His eyes met mine. Uncertain. Disbelieving.
"Alpha…" he whispered.
I kissed him.
There was no hesitation.
No carefulness.
Just my lips against his—softer than I expected, trembling with exhaustion and something like awe. He melted into it like he'd been waiting his entire life to be kissed by someone who meant it.
When we parted, he was crying again.
But it was different this time.
"Thank you," he said through the bond, voice weak but clear. "Thank you for coming back."
I kissed his forehead. "Always."
Behind us, the empire that had built him—broken him—collapsed in a pillar of flame.
Ahead of us, the forest opened wide.
Freedom was messy.
But it was ours.