“Shhh,” I soothe as I push away the hair stuck to his skin with fingers that are numb from shock. “It’s alright. It’s all going to be alright, but we have to go. We have to leave, okay?”

  The enormity of the situation presses heavy in this room, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood and the lingering echo of power that still crackles faintly around us. We’ve left a trail of bodies in our push to reach him, and now the most dangerous High Commander is wounded by his own son’s hands.

  A wound that will demand vengeance on a scale we can scarcely comprehend.

  He’s seen all of us. Knows our names and faces in intimate detail. We’re soon to be the most hunted people in the city, if not the world.

  “I promised,” Xeni whispers.

  It’s so quiet I barely catch the words, his voice faint and dragged from the last of his strength.

  “To protect you,” he continues in a slow murmur. “I promised.”

  He risked everything to keep that vow, and my heart breaks all over again.

  He clutches at my shirt, growing more desperate. “I… I used my powers on you… I’m sorry…”

  “Don’t apologize for protecting me,” I say, fighting to keep my composure for his sake. “You were amazing, okay? You were perfect.”

  I attempt to scrub away the blood on his face with the sleeve of my shirt, but it only smears across his skin in fresh streaks as new drops trickle from his nose.

  His fingers are cold and slick with sweat as he takes my hand, and he's on the edge of fading consciousness.

  “Did you mean it?” he murmurs.

  “Mean what?”

  He stumbles as I lift him to his feet, heavy as he falls against me and leans into my support. His throat dips in a labored swallow.

  “That you love me?”

  “Of course I meant it, princess. I never stopped.” The confession carries the truth I’ve hidden from for years, and a tear slides down his cheek as he closes his eye.

  He wavers on his feet, body swaying, and I glance to where Ego is collecting her blade from the ground with a grimace. Cato and Sakane flank her, faces etched with the same urgency.

  My arms bind tighter around his waist as I nod at the door. “He’s losing consciousness, and we have to go. The entire fucking army will be after us.”

  The others fall in line as the weight of what we’ve done settles over us like a shroud.

  It’s one thing to leave a trail of bodies behind in an obvious attack on the military’s stronghold, but to wound, and nearly kill, one of their supreme leaders?

  “Let’s go.”

  Bash

  Xeni’s weight slumps against me as I guide him into the hallway, getting heavier with every passing second. His feet drag across the floor, and it takes less than a dozen steps before I can’t watch anymore. I scoop him into my arms without a word, cradling him close.

  “I c’n walk,” he slurs, the words muddled with his fatigue.

  He tries to push off my chest, but the attempt fizzles out immediately and he sags deeper into my hold. His head lolls against my shoulder as his body surrenders.

  His breath evens out against my neck, and the tension bleeds from his frame now that he’s off his feet. I adjust my grip, one arm under his knees, the other supporting his back, and shake my head at his stubbornness.

  “What’s the best route out of here?” I ask.

  Sakane takes the lead with Ego while Cato stays behind me, watching our backs.

  “Stairs,” Sakane says as we push through the same door we used on our way up.

  I groan inwardly at the memory of the seven flights we climbed. They’ll be worse with the hundred and eighty pounds that’s currently deadweight in my arms, and my legs are already unsteady from the fight.

  “I can carry him,” Cato offers, and it sounds sincere.

  I shake my head and pull Xeni closer. “No. I need to do this.”

  Cato nods and resumes his watch behind us as we rush down the stairs. When we reach the main floor, the guard’s body rests against the wall where we left it, but instead of heading out the way we came, we continue lower into the basement.

  Ego has been collecting keycards from the guards as we took them down. She swipes a couple of them before the door buzzes and the deadbolt releases with a click.

  “Do you know where we’re going?” I ask.

  She nods as she gestures for us to continue, motioning ahead with a flick of her wrist. “Sakane and I have been studying the blueprints. There’s a sewer access at the far end of this corridor.”

  “Can we get in?”

  Ego nods again, glancing between the two hallways that diverge at the end of the room, already mapping escape routes in her head. She leads us to the right, digging something silver and shiny from her pocket and holding it up with a triumphant little wiggle.

  “This is the key to the entrance. I’m really hoping they won’t even remember it’s there—y’know, classic military efficiency. Out of sight, out of mind.”

  “And if they do?” Cato questions, voice flat with that perpetual skepticism.

  Sakane shrugs, a half-smile emerging from the stress on his face. “According to my source, only utility workers have access. I guess we’ll see.”

  Ego snorts. “If not, we improvise. Worst case, we charm our way out. My smile is hypnotic.”

  Cato rolls his eyes. “Your smile melts brains.”

  “Even better,” she fires back with a wink. “Brains control the hands that hold the guns, and our resident puppet master is out for the count.”

  Everyone glances at Xeni, but he’s quiet in my arms.

  Ego flashes him an affectionate smile, then steers us down the hallway. “Through here,” she instructs.

  We pass through an ancient boiler room, then hurry towards a nondescript gray door tucked into a corner. It’s covered in a blanket of grime and cobwebs, and Ego is careful not to disturb the dust as she unlocks it.

  Xeni groans in my arms as we step through into the dim tunnel. “Stinks,” he mutters.

  I cough a quiet laugh despite the tension. “I think you can deal with it for a little while, princess.”

  He nuzzles back into my chest with a grunt, and I glance over my shoulder as the others enter. Ego follows last, then turns to lock the door behind us.

  Before it closes, sirens blare into the night.

  They’re so loud they seem to come from every direction at once. Ego’s mouth moves in a curse as she slams the door. It muffles the alarms but doesn’t silence them, which means they aren’t coming from the building.

  They’re being broadcast across the city.

  Arched brick creates a tunnel overhead, and a few dim lights illuminate the narrow path. A ditch runs beneath us, full of shallow rushing water, and I try not to imagine its origin.

  “Where do we go?” I shout over the alarms, but Ego shakes her head as she glances around. Sakane pats her side as he passes her and beckons for us to follow, and for several minutes, we run.

  Eventually he slows beside a light and pulls a map from his pocket while Ego crouches next to him.

  “This system doesn’t lead anywhere close to home,” Ego says, shouting over the noise before glancing at Xeni in my arms. “There’s no way we can travel the streets after his father saw us.”

  “Maybe Zadeus will die,” I say with hope I don’t believe.

  She shakes her head. “An injury like that might kill a human, but one of them? A High Commander?”

  “So, what?” Panic makes my voice go higher as I picture the hundreds of possibilities for disaster. “We just stay down here? We’re sitting ducks!”

  Cato leans closer to examine the map, then jabs his finger at one of the highlighted access points. Ego glances up at him, and they have a silent conversation before she nods.

  “She’ll help us,” Ego agrees.

  She takes the lead with Sakane on her heels, while I follow with Xeni. Cato assumes his position behind us, and we jog for what seems like an hour.

  The sirens keep blaring, and whenever we pass a manhole or door, the noise gets louder. Every time, I stare as though the entire army will burst through and grab us, but no one ever comes.

  We finally stop at an access hole, and Ego stares up the ten-foot ladder to the round hatch above.

  “Let me,” Cato says as he squeezes past me. “She knows me best.”

  Sweat drips down my forehead and along my spine as I crouch with Xeni, my muscles quivering under his weight. He hasn’t regained consciousness, but his breathing is steady.

  Minutes pass with the screech of sirens becoming nothing more than a buzz against the thump of my pulse. A sliver of light forms overhead, and I tense as I rush to my feet, ready to run.

  Cato climbs down, and he nods at Ego before turning to me. “We can crash here while we figure out our next moves.”

  “It’s safe?” I demand.

  Cato lifts one shoulder in a shrug, glancing up at the open hatch. “As safe as we can be right now. Is he awake?”

  “No,” I say as I shift Xeni in my arms. “We’ll have to work him up the ladder.”

  Cato grunts. “Put him on my back and climb up behind me. I’ll need your help to lift him.”

  I position Xeni’s arms around Cato’s neck, and Cato’s muscles strain as he climbs with one hand. I follow, supporting as much of Xeni’s weight as I can.

  By the time Cato hoists Xeni through the hole, we’re both coated in sweat. As I catch my breath, I glance around to find we’re in a clean basement with shelves of baking supplies lining the walls.

  One rack is loaded with bags of flour and sugar while containers of honey, chocolate, and nuts fill another. A third holds delicacies I haven’t seen in years—butterscotch, caramel, and a bottle of rum that makes me glance towards Xeni with a huffing laugh.

  Cato speaks to a petite woman with frizzy gray hair. She smiles as I approach, and I return it as best I can as I take Xeni’s limp body from Cato.

  Ego and Sakane climb through the hatch, and Cato runs over to help them move the cover. Once everything is back in place, the woman waves for us to follow her up a set of stairs.

  I hesitate but Cato is relaxed, and I trust his judgement. We file into what appears to be a commercial kitchen, and a stainless-steel rack is rolled aside to reveal a hidden doorway that opens to another stairwell.

  The apartment is clean and well lived-in, though the alarms are louder up here without the sewer's insulation. We walk through a hallway, and the woman turns and nods at Xeni before she opens a door and waves us inside.

  A large bed sits against the wall, covered in a rainbow of handmade quilts. Nightstands flank either side, and an overstuffed chair waits by the window, though the curtains are drawn. The room is neat in a way that makes it feel as though it hasn’t been touched in years.

  I glance at her in question.

  “There’s a bathroom,” she says, nearly shouting to be heard over the wailing. She nods toward a door opposite the bed. “Towels are in the closet, and if you leave your clothes outside, I’ll clean them. Don’t use the lamps. The neighbors will notice.”

  I nod, unsure of what else to say as she retreats into the hallway with the others. She says something to Cato, who nods with a soft smile as the door closes behind them.

  Exhaustion hits me full force as I glance at the bed, then down at Xeni’s bloodstained body. My muscles protest as I carry him into the bathroom, and I groan in relief at the large walk-in shower that waits inside.

  I set Xeni on the shower floor and start the lengthy process of undoing his filthy armor. My rage reignites as I remove his chestpiece and uncover the watercolor of bruises on his torso.

  His lashes flutter as he takes a deep breath. “Bash?”

  “Hey, princess,” I say as I set his armor aside.

  He groans when he sits up taller, and I hurry to steady him. “Where are we?” he asks, blinking in confusion as he glances around the bathroom.

  “Somewhere safe for now,” I answer.

  His pointed ears twitch as he recognizes the blaring of the alarms, and he swallows roughly as his head falls against the tiled wall.

  He looks so young.

  So innocent and vulnerable as he looks at me like he needs me to take his pain away.

  My throat is tight as I nod toward his pants. “Let’s get you clean, okay?”

  Dried blood flakes on his pale skin, and he lifts his hands in front of his face. His fingers tremble as he stares at them like he’s seeing them for the first time.

  “I should’ve killed him,” he whispers. “Why couldn’t I kill him? I should’ve… if I were stronger…”

  I sink onto the shower floor beside him and reach for his hands, gently prying them away from his face. “Hey… none of that, okay? You were incredible, and you’re the only reason we made it out of there alive.”

  “I hate him,” he stresses, the words furious but fractured, and his hands fall limply into his lap as he keeps staring at them like they belong to a stranger. “I do, Bash. I fucking loathe him, but I didn’t… I couldn’t…”

  “It’s alright, princess,” I murmur, sliding my arm around his shoulders and pulling his head to rest against my chest. “It’ll be alright.”

  We sit there amid the screaming alarms, the noise fading to a dull roar as I hold him tighter.

  “I shouldn’t care,” he whispers after a long pause.

  “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t care, Xen.”

  “He’s fucking terrible,” he says as a spiteful laugh escapes him in a rush of air. “He does awful, unforgivable things. He is evil, and ruthless… and my mother isn’t any better, but…”

  He shakes his head again like he’s trying to dislodge the thought.

  “But?” I hedge gently when he goes quiet.

  “But they’re the only family I’ve ever had.” The confession rips free like he’s ashamed of it, and there’s a lifetime of complicated pain in those words.

  Love twisted into something toxic and loyalty forged in fear.

  I hate that I can’t take it away.

  “That’s not true,” I say as I grip his shoulder, hugging him tighter. “You’ve got me. We’ll be our own little family… just the two of us. Just like before.”

  “I’m sorry I never told you,” he says as his hands fidget in his lap. “You had the right to know who I really am, and I—”

  “Whoa, hey now. Hang on a fucking second, Xen.” I wait until he looks at me, needing him to see my honesty as I continue. “Your father may be evil, but he doesn’t define you. He doesn’t get to decide who you are. I know who you are.”

  My finger taps against his bare chest before I lay my palm flat, right over the frantic beat of his heart.

  “I have always known who you are.”

  “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he says, lip quivering as his words tumble out in a rush. “I shouldn’t have hidden everything, and I’m sorry I did, and I’m sorry I had to let them take you. I’m sorry it took me so long to find you, and I just—”

  “Xeni, you need to breathe,” I whisper, cupping his face to ground him.

  He scrambles into my lap like he’s seeking shelter, and he feels so small against me.

  “I’m sorry,” he rasps, lips grazing my neck in feather-light touches. “About all of it. I didn’t know what else to do, and I’m sorry.”

  I wrap my arms around him tighter, one hand stroking his back in slow, soothing passes as his body trembles against mine.

  “It’s okay,” I whisper into his hair, pressing a kiss there. “It’s all going to be okay. Let’s get you clean, alright? You’ll feel better after a shower.”

  He nods with a shuddering inhale, still curled against me, and I give him another minute of stillness as I run my fingers along his spine. Carefully, I guide him off my lap and help him stand, and he’s dazed as he allows me to unlace his boots and unzip his pants. They get tossed aside into a heap, and I tug him out of the shower as I start the water.

  Even bruised and filthy, with his shoulders slumped forward and his hair a matted mess, he’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

  I remember the first time I laid eyes on him.

  I was terrified, stepping into Ljómur after being grabbed out of school and ordered to work for the military. Everything was strange—sterile and unfamiliar.

  I didn’t know a soul.

  Xeni was across the room talking to another medic, and it felt like I was under a spell. I was mesmerized by his easy smile and flowing hair, and when he saw me staring, I sensed something hiding underneath those pale eyes.

  He was beautifully sad.

  A piece of modern art trapped within the confines of a Renaissance painting.

  Vivid, wild, and free on the inside, but muted into something socially acceptable on the outside.

  Reluctantly tamed.

  I’d seen the explosion of color living inside his eyes. Had wanted more of it in my life, mess be damned.

  We’d always been such a beautiful mess.

  He watches as I undress, letting his gaze roam my body. It’s intimate but not wanting. He surveys the dips and curves like he’s memorizing how it’s changed since we were last stripped bare like this. Our fingers lace as I help him into the shower, and once we’re under the spray, I glance up at him.

  Blood specks create macabre freckles across his pale face, while darker clots pool along the edge of his eyepatch. The reminders of the night’s trauma are stark on his skin, and I reach up with both hands to slide the patch off so I can wash them away.

  “No,” he pleads in a whisper as he seizes my wrists, his fear ringing louder than the sirens outside.

  “We need to get you clean, Xen.” I stroke my thumbs across his cheeks, wiping away streaks of dried blood.

  He doesn’t release me. “I don’t want you to see.”

  “Why not?”

  He pauses, lip pinched between his teeth until the skin blanches, and his gaze darts to the droplets of water trickling down the tiles.

  “I only ever wanted to be perfect for you,” he admits quietly. His single eye darts to mine for a fleeting second before dropping to stare at my chest. “Now I can’t be.”