“You just keep breathing,” I whisper again.
Thomas approaches, water dripping from his arm as he lifts the gun higher.
“You have made this far more troublesome than it needed to be,” he calls out over the alarm. His voice is calm, almost bored, even with rage tightening every line of his body. “All you had to do was accept what was coming.”
My heart races, pounding so hard it hurts. “You became everything you once hated,” I shout back.
He walks closer, his eyes narrowing with each step. “I became what survival demanded.”
Hope whimpers behind me, her fingers digging into my back. I reach back and squeeze her hand, feeling her trembling under my palm.
My other hand tightens around the metal rod. My muscles feel tired, but adrenaline pushes me forward.
“You’re not touching her!” I scream at him. “You’re not touching my child either!”
He lifts the gun to chest height. Water streams down his arm, dripping off the barrel. My breath is trapped in my chest as Hope’s hand squeezes mine. Every instinct inside me screams to fight, to hold on, and to protect.
Thomas takes another step. And another. The water falls harder, as if the entire ceiling has opened. He draws in a breath. He opens his mouth?—
A crash booms through the warehouse, so loud that I jump. The front doors explode inward, metal bending and groaning under the force. Shouts echo across the space. Boots thunder through puddles. And through the noise, the alarms, the water, and the shouting, I hear his voice.
“Sage!” Luka’s voice tears through the noise, hitting me with a piercing rush that goes straight to my heart.
The alarms keep blaring, the sprinklers keep pouring water across the warehouse, and Thomas’s men shout orders to one another, but none of it matters now. Luka is here. Hope lifts her head weakly, her eyes widening in relief.
Boots pound against the concrete floor. Multiple voices echo through the space, deep and forceful, pushing into every corner of the warehouse. Water splashes everywhere as men rush between the crates, guns drawn, moving with purpose. The lights flutter, and the shadows stretch across the walls, making it hard to tell where anyone is for more than a heartbeat at a time.
“You brought him here,” he growls while stepping toward us.
“I didn’t bring anyone,” I counter, tightening my grip on the metal rod. “He found me.”
Thomas lifts the gun again, aiming straight at my chest. Hope tries to jerk forward, as if she can shield me with her body, but she is too weak and can barely lift her arms.
“Stay behind me,” I whisper to her, leaning closer so she can feel my voice near her ear. “Don’t move.”
Her trembling increases, but she nods against my shoulder.
Thomas stalks forward, water splashing under his boots with each step. His jaw flexes, and the cold focus in his eyes makes the air between us feel poisoned.
“I gave you a chance to make this painless,” he mutters. “But you never could follow a simple rule, Sage. Not when you were a child and not now.”
I rise a little taller, even though fear keeps rattling inside my ribs. “I learned to fight because you left us,” I respond. “You taught me every lesson I’ll ever need to know.”
His grip tightens around the gun. “Then this is your fault.”
Gunfire erupts across the warehouse as Luka’s men press forward, their shouts cutting through the alarms whilethey break off in different directions with quick, practiced movements. The metal walls vibrate under the noise.
“Cover left!” someone shouts. “Move forward!”
Water sprays off their jackets as they sprint across the warehouse floor. Vega’s bark cuts through the alarms, powerful and sharp, followed by the rapid tapping of his paws across the wet concrete as he charges ahead. The sound of him hits me with another rush of shaky relief.
Thomas’s men begin firing toward the entrance. Bullets snap through the air, striking the pillars and crates around us. Splinters fly, mixing with water droplets and dust. Hope gasps, and I pull her closer, shielding her body with mine.
The warehouse erupts into chaos as Luka comes into view through the heavy spray of water. He moves fast and low, his entire body focused on the far end of the warehouse, on us. His soaked clothes cling to him, and his eyes track every movement fiercely.
The moment his gaze lands on our corner, a tight pressure forms in my ribs. It feels like the first breath after drowning.
Thomas notices the change in my focus and spins toward Luka. He lifts the gun toward him, but Luka is already moving.
