Theo nodded. “Alright. Don’t take too long — the chef’s in one of his experimental moods tonight. You’ll want to be around to judge.”
Zora smirked. “You just want witnesses in case it’s a disaster.”
He laughed, backing away with a playful salute. “Exactly, babe! See you both soon.”
We continued down the path as his footsteps faded behind us, the air growing quieter, the laughter and light of the resort giving way to the rhythmic hush of the waves. The night air was balmy, stars emerging one by one, the island's magic wrapping around us like a blanket. We talked more. Zora sharing stories of her and Keith as kids, pranks on Anton. "I don’t remember much about mother but I heard she was the glue," Zora said softly, kicking a shell into the surf. "Before Dad's empire swallowed everything. Keith wasalways her favorite, quiet, thoughtful. Anton the wild one. But after... they all broke a little."
I squeezed her arm. "The scar on his chest, he says it's childhood, but I think it's more."
Zora's jaw tightened, her fearless facade cracking. "It is. Dad's temper. But that's his story to tell. Just... be patient with him. He's not used to leaning on anyone."
The conversation lulled, the waves our companion, but as we rounded a bend in the shore, the air shifted, subtle at first, a chill that wasn't from the breeze, a prickle on my skin like static before a storm. The stars seemed dimmer, the shadows between the palms deeper, the ocean's hush turning from soothing to ominous. I stopped, my hand on Zora's arm, shushing her mid-sentence as she teased about Keith's "terrible taste in rom-coms." "Wait," I whispered, my voice tight, heart pounding. "Something's wrong."
Zora froze, her eyes narrowing, her body tensing like a coiled spring. "What? Aurelia, what's.."
A rustle from the foliage behind us, too deliberate for wind or wildlife. Before I could turn, a masked figure lunged from the shadows, a tall man in black, face obscured by a mask, his build solid, eyes glinting through the slits like a predator's. He grabbed my arm, his grip iron, yanking me back toward the trees, a gloved hand clamping over my mouth, muffling my scream. Panic exploded, my mind flashing to the warehouse, darkness, chains, hands grabbing. I kicked, my heel connecting with his shin, but he barely grunted, dragging me with terrifying ease.
Zora reacted like lightning cracking the sky, spinning on her heel and launching herself at him, her fist cracking against his jaw with a thud that echoed over the crashing waves. "Get off her, youbastard!" she snarled, her voice a whip laced with something sharper. Her free hand shot out, grabbing his arm, twisting with that practiced precision of hers, fingers digging in like she knew exactly where to hurt... or hold. The man shrugged her off with a brutal shove, sending her stumbling back into the sand, but she recovered mid-fall, rolling fluidly and springing up, her breath coming in sharp huffs that fogged the air. Combat training evident in every coiled muscle, every predatory shift of her weight.
He didn't answer her taunt, but his eyes flicked to her for a beat longer than necessary. She threw a punch, lightning-fast and aimed for his throat, he dodged, weaving left with fluid grace, his body brushing hers in the evasion, close enough that I caught the hitch in her breath. "Who the fuck are you?" Zora demanded, circling him now, her stance low and lethal. Her voice dripped with venom, but there was a husky undercurrent to it, a challenge wrapped in heat.
The man stayed silent, his focus snapping back to me, pulling me tighter against his chest like I was collateral in their unfinished business. His arm banded around my waist, a vice of leather and muscle, the scent of him, sweat, leather, and something darker, like gun oil choking me as surely as his hand over my mouth.
"Let her go," Zora growled, feinting right and kicking high, her boot slicing toward his knee with vicious intent. It connected, a solid crack that should have dropped him, but he absorbed it, grunting low in his throat, a sound that was half pain, half dark amusement. His leg buckled only slightly before he pivoted, using me as a shield, his free hand ghosting the air near her hip as if to steady her.
I struggled against him, elbowing his ribs with everything I had, but he was unyielding stone, his grip tightening just enough tomake my vision spot. "Zora, run!" I gasped out, the words mangled against his palm, but she didn't. She charged again, her fist glancing off his shoulder as he twisted away, the dodge effortless, almost playful, like he'd choreographed this twisted tango a hundred times in his nightmares.
He didn't attack her, didn't even try, just kept me pinned, his breath hot and ragged, controlled but laced with a tension that hummed like a live wire. Zora's next kick came for his face, a blur of fury and grace, it landed true, her boot cracking against the mask with an audible snap.
A crack split at the mouth opening, branching out in sharp lines, revealing half his lips, thin, twisted in a snarl, a jagged scar puckering the lower one like an old promise carved in flesh. Blood seeped from the split fabric, staining it red, and he staggered back a step, but his eyes never left hers. Her chest heaving, lips curled in a fierce grin that was equal parts triumph and temptation, his scarred mouth quirking in a ghost of a smirk, like her violence was the only foreplay he craved.
He recovered in a heartbeat, his free hand snapping out to grab her ankle mid-air as she overextended, dragging her off balance with a yank that pulled her flush against him for a heartbeat. She twisted in his grasp, using the momentum to drive a punch into his gut, her knuckles sinking deep. He released her ankle with a shove that sent her sprawling into the sand, but it was gentler than it should have been, enough force to warn, not to wound. She hit the ground hard, rolling to her feet in a spray of grit, her eyes blazing with that wildfire mix of hate and hunger. "Come on, you coward," she taunted, her voice a silken blade, circling him again with fists raised and hips swaying just a touch too provocatively, like she knew it would unhinge him. "Face me like a man."
He ignored her words, or pretended to, his focus laser-sharp as he dragged me toward the treeline, the shadows eager to swallow us whole. But I saw it. The way his head tilted toward her voice, the subtle flex of his jaw behind the fractured mask, like her barbs were hooks sinking deeper. I clawed at his arm, nails raking the glove uselessly. It was like scratching granite, but he didn't flinch, his attention splintering between escape and her. "Zora!" I screamed as the trees loomed, but she was already a storm, charging with a roar, her boot slamming into his side with a thud that ripped a real grunt from him this time, low, guttural, almost a moan.
He released me for a split second, and I bolted toward her, but he lunged, catching my arm and spinning me back into his orbit. Zora was on him instantly, knee to his thigh, elbow to his ribs, each hit sharp and precise. He barely flinched, his movements too controlled, his blocks brushing her skin like touches disguised as defense.
“Let her go!” she shouted, landing a punch that tore his mask wider, revealing his lip curled into a dangerous half-smile. He caught her wrist mid-swing, thumb pressing into her pulse, eyes locking on hers.
The mask cracked more as she fought him, their bodies clashing close enough, anger bleeding into something else. He hauled her against his chest, arm tightening around her throat, not to kill, but something else.
Whatever he whispered made her freeze, then soften just slightly, her nails digging into his sleeve like an anchor. His grin widened voice low and rough.
Zora's eyes widened, fury turning to shock, but before she could react, he jabbed something into her neck, a syringe, the needle sinking deep, her body going rigid then limp as the drug hit her system.
She slumped in his grip, unconscious, her body crumpling to the sand like a discarded puppet.
"No!" I screamed, lunging for her, but he was faster, grabbing me, his arm banding around my waist, his other hand clamping over my mouth, the syringe glinting in his gloved hand. I struggled, kicking, clawing, my nails raking his arm, but he was iron, pinning me against him, the needle pricking my neck, cold fire sliding into my veins. "Let me go," I gasped, the words slurring as darkness crept in, my vision blurring, the beach tilting.
The world faded, a faint image of Zora lying on the beach the last thing I saw before blackness swallowed me whole.
Chapter 31
Keith
The feed crackled faintly, static hissing like a warning, but then Anton's voice came through, low and urgent, the sound of a door clicking shut behind him. "I've got intel on the Butcher."
I leaned forward, my heart rate quickening. I turned up the volume, my mind sharpening like a blade.
