“You’re still holding yourself apart,” he said softly. “That distance. That refusal. You think it makes you strong.”
“It does,” I said.
His jaw clenched. “No. It makes you afraid.”
“It makes mefree,” I corrected.
That word landed wrong. I saw it hit, saw it register—choice—and in the same instant, I saw it dismissed.
He stepped forward again, closing the small gap I’d made, voice dropping low. “You don’t need to choose with me, Lark. That’s what you never understood. The only thing that matters is that the Flame chose you for me.”
He reached for my jaw, thumb pressing firm beneath my chin, not enough to hurt, just enough to show hecould. The control wasn’t in the violence. It was in the restraint.
“Let go,” he whispered. “Give me what you gave him.”
I shook my head. Slow. Deliberate.
“No.”
The word was soft. But it echoed between us.
Final.
Something in him shifted. Not rage. Not fury. It was colder than that—disappointment, edged with resolve. He exhaled through his nose, slow and even, and for the first time since entering the chamber, real terror crawled up the back of my throat.
“You never change,” he said. “So neither will I.”
He lunged forward, hands locking around my arms as he yanked me hard into him.
I didn’t think. I reacted.
I drove my knee up, fast and vicious, catching him square in his crotch. As he staggered, I twisted out of his grasp, shoved him sideways, and bolted.
My bare feet hit the concrete at full speed, skin slapping wet against the cold as I tore down the corridor. My lungs burned. My heart pounded loud enough to feel in my teeth. But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.
Behind me, his voice rose, no longer calm. “Lark. You stupid bitch!”
I didn’t look back.
The tunnels branched quickly, sharp curves, narrow bends, some sloping downward into cold, damp dark, others rising steeply enough that my calves screamed as I forced myself upward, two steps at a time. The lights were dimmer here, emergency glow strips pulsing faintly along the walls. The hum of machinery was louder, closer, vibrating through the soles of my feet like a second heartbeat.
I didn’t know where I was going. I didn’t care. All I needed was distance.
I took a hard turn and nearly lost my footing, shoulder catching the wall as I pushed off, breath tearing through my throat. The air turned colder. The stink of fuel faded, replaced by rust and stone and damp earth.
Behind me, footsteps echoed.
Not hurried.
Measured.
He wasn’t chasing me like prey.
He was herding me.
The realization hit like ice, loud, deep, immediate, but I kept going. I took another turn, and another, until—
The floor gave out beneath me.
