The safehouse was too quiet.
Adriana sat awake by the broken window, her bandaged side throbbing with every breath. The others slept, or feigned sleep. Even in sleep, the survivors twitched and muttered, haunted by the memory of steel and blood. The silence outside pressed against the walls, so heavy it felt manufactured.
Damian moved like a ghost through the room, checking weapons, watching doors. His shoulders were hunched, his entire body tensed for combat. He dropped into a crouch beside Adriana.
"You hear it too," she breathed.
His black eyes flashed to the window. "I don't hear anything. That's the problem."
A scout should have been back an hour ago. He hadn't.
Adriana had no time to respond before the world ripped apart.
A blast tore through the back wall, raining fire and splinters. The night became orange as flames erupted around them. Smoke poured in through broken beams, choking the air. Screams filled the safehouse.
"Up! Everybody up!" Damian bellowed, his voice cutting through chaos. He yanked one fighter to their feet, shoved another toward the back door. "It's Lucian he's burning us out!"
A second blast ripped through the cave roof. Adriana's face was slapped with heat. She ducked back as flames licked the ceiling, as if to drop it.
"Elara!" someone shouted.
The tied prisoner sat against the far wall, her face lit up by fire. For a moment, she looked almost serene like a woman awaiting judgment. Then a beam cracked overhead, spilling sparks upon her.
"Cut her free!" Adriana shouted.
Damian spun his head to her. "She'll betray us the moment she's free."
"She'll die if we don't. And if Lucian is pressing this hard, we need every sword we can get!"
The survivors protested loudly. A man lifted his pistol. "She's dead weight. Might as well kill her now!"
Adriana stepped between Elara and the barrel. "No. She fights with us or dies here. But it's her choice."
For a heartbeat, smoke swirled around them, time suspended. Then Damian snarled and drew his knife, slicing through Elara's chains.
Her wrists fell free. She rubbed them once, eyes darting between Adriana and Damian.
"Make your choice," Adriana said.
Elara stood, spine straight. "I'll fight."
The safehouse dissolved into chaos. Fire roared through the rafters, devouring everything. Survivors coughed and stumbled, weapons drawn, eyes streaming from the smoke.
"Out the side door!" Damian ordered. "Stay low!"
They plunged into the alley ahead and right into a phalanx of Lucian's hunters. Black shapes tumbled through the firelight, guns and knives glinting. The night dissolved into combat.
Damian was a storm unleashed, his sword slicing steely arcs through the enemy. Adriana fought alongside him, her body screaming with pain, but she would not give up. Every blow was life, every breath wrenched from the teeth of death itself.
Elara darted among them, her chains improvised into weapons. She fought with a fury, every step deliberate. More than once, she saved a survivor from a hunter's blade.
Still, they fought on. They were outnumbered. For every enemy who dropped, two more emerged from the flames.
"Fall back!" Damian bellowed. "To the southern streets!"
Elara fought her way to the fore, grabbing Adriana's arm. "Not south it's a trap! Lucian would herd you there like cattle. There's another way. Follow me!"
The group hesitated, torn.
Adriana met Elara's gaze. Her own eyes stung from the smoke, but she saw no hesitation in the woman's face only resolve. "We trust her," Adriana said.
Damian's face twisted. For a moment, he looked like he'd rather cast Elara into the flames again. But he nodded once. "Lead."
Elara threaded them through narrow alleyways, guiding them with surprising certainty. Hunters followed, dark forms amidst smoke and fire, but Damian and the survivors fought them off, swords flashing, pistols thundering in the night.
Adriana staggered along, lungs burning, vision blurring. Every step was agony, yet Damian was always near, his presence anchoring her in the maelstrom.
At last they burst into a wider street, flames licking at the edges. They collapsed into temporary cover, gasping for breath.
"We'll hold here," Damian growled, stabbing his blade into the dirt.
But Adriana barely heard him. Her eyes locked on a figure across the burning street.
Lucian Hale stood on a balcony, backlit by fire. His coat streamed behind him in the heat, his eyes glowed like embers. He looked at them with the calm of a hunter who had already won.
A voice whispered in his ear, a hunter. Lucian did not stir. He just raised his glass of red wine, as if toasting the fire. Then his gaze locked onto Adriana.
Her blood ran cold.
Hunters attacked, and the fight started again. The survivors fought with the desperation of the damned. Adriana's body screamed for rest, yet anger fueled her anger at Lucian, at his fire, at his quiet assurance that he would destroy them all.
A sword slashed across her shoulder. She staggered, near to falling then Elara pulled her back, cutting down the assailant.
"You live because I allow it," Elara spat. But for the first time, Adriana heard not poison, but defiance directed at Lucian, not her.
Damian cut a swath through the enemy, shouting at them to retreat. One by one, the survivors raced through a small gap, fire closing off behind them.
By the time they had fought their way to the other side of the city, their number was less, their strength nearly gone. But they lived. Barely.
Adriana collapsed against a wall, coughing blood into her palm. Damian caught her, supporting her with arms of steel. "Breathe," he whispered. "Just breathe."
She lifted her gaze a last time to the city they had fled. Flames engulfed rooftops. And on one high balcony, Lucian Hale still stood, untouched, gazing at her with a smile that promised nothing but devastation.
Adriana's heart pounded. The fight wasn't finished. It was only beginning.