I roar.
The sound tears from my chest, animal and desperate. Not calculated. Pure rage at my own failure.
I surge against my restraints. Make it halfway to my feet through sheer determination before a shock-baton cracks across the base of my skull.
White explosion behind my eyes.
Sound cutting to muffled static, like being underwater, voices distorted and distant.
The world spins. Stone floor rushing up too fast.
“Luke!”
Ember’s voice. Distant. Distorted. But I’d know it anywhere.
My eyes find her across the cave. She’s struggling against the operatives holding her arms. Face terrified but still fighting; eyes fierce even with the cuffs killing whatever power she just accessed.
God, she’s brave.
The thought surfaces through the chaos in my head. Through the pain and the failure and the knowledge that I’ve condemned her to something worse than death.
She shouldn’t be here. Should be back at headquarters learning to control her power. Should be safe within Aurora’s walls instead of facing Syndicate research protocols that will tear her apart piece by piece.
My fault.
I try to speak. Try to tell her— What? That I’m sorry? That I’ll find her? That I’ll tear this mountain apart to get her back?
But my mouth won’t work. Tongue thick and clumsy. Words caught somewhere between brain and throat.
Her face is the last thing I see.
Terrified but still fighting. Eyes locked on mine like I’m the only solid thing in a world that won’t stop spinning.
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
The thought echoes as darkness rushes in. As consciousness fractures into pieces I can’t hold together.
They know what you are now. And I made it happen.
My body goes limp between the operatives holding me down. Awareness sliding away.
The commander’s voice from somewhere far away: “We’ll transport them both. The witch goes to the research wing. The dragon can wait in holding.”
Ember screams my name again.
I can’t answer.
Can’t fight.
Can’t do anything except let the darkness take me while the knowledge of what I’ve done burns through my chest worse than any bullet wound.
I failed you.
I’m sorry.
I’m so—
Nothing.
