Devil studied him a long moment. “You sure.”
Jacob nodded frantically. “I’ve seen it. I’ve been there. That’s where they’re takin’ her.”
Silence crashed down around us.
Then Devil turned his head just enough to look at me. “Chain.”
I lifted my eyes.
“We move,” he said. “Now.”
Relief and rage collided so hard my vision blurred.
As the room came alive, weapons gettin’ checked, plans snappin’ into place, I took one last look at Jacob shakin’ in that chair.
“You did this,” I said quiet.
“I’m sorry,” he sobbed.
“You will be,” I told him, my voice gone cold. “You best pray I find her safe, or your sufferin’ won’t be quick.”
Because sorry didn’t mean a damn thing. Not when Lark was underground. Not while Jasper was still breathin’. Not with the clock already runnin’.
And I was done waitin’.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
THE ROOM THEYleft me in wasn’t a cell,and I knew that almost immediately. The realization settled deep in my chest—heavy, solid, unwelcoming.
There were no bars. No visible locks. No restraints beyond the zip tie they cut from my wrists after the doors sealed and the hum beneath the floor grew louder. The space was circular, the concrete smoothed down to something that almost resembled intention. Like someone had once decided that obedience came easier when discomfort wore a gentler face. A cot rested againstthe wall, the blanket folded with unnecessary care. A single chair sat at an angle too precise to be accidental.
It was prepared. Not temporary.
I stayed where they left me, arms loose at my sides, breath measured, flexing each finger until the ache in my wrists dulled to something manageable. The skin was raw, inflamed, but unbroken. I cataloged the damage without thinking, pain, breath, balance, range of motion. Survival wasn’t instinct anymore. It was a system. A checklist. Habit.
The hum was louder here. It vibrated faintly through the soles of my feet and into my bones, low and ceaseless, like the building itself was alive. Something beneath the concrete ran continuously—power, ventilation, machinery. The place breathed even when no one else did.
They’d cleared the others out.
I felt it before I heard him. Before the echo of Jasper’s footsteps reached the edge of the hall. The air changed when bodies were gone. When walls no longer listened. When silence pressed closer, not because it was empty, but because it was watching.
Just him. Just me.
“You’ll stay here until I decide you’re ready to return to the new compound,” Jasper said as he stepped into the room, voice calm, quiet, as if he were reciting a schedule rather than delivering a sentence. His eyes moved once across the room and then settled back on me. “Ready for the cleansing.”
I turned slowly, deliberately, not to show fear, but to showcontrol. “Why bother?”
He studied me like he always did. Like I was a pattern he already understood but enjoyed watching repeat. “Still a mouthy thing,” he said with a faint smile. “You’ve been outside the Flames influence for too long.”
“And I survived just fine.”
“Yes.” The agreement was soft. Unbothered. And far more unsettling than denial would have been.
He stepped aside and gestured toward the door, already certain I would follow.
I didn’t. Not immediately. Not out of fear, but becausepausewas one of my oldest weapons, and I wanted to see how long his patience held now that there were no eyes watching.
“You know,” he said, seizing my arm and pulling me forward, “you think you’re clever. Always defiant. But you’re too dim to understand it’s what I love about you.”
