Each step he takes sends a jolt of pain through me. My fists pound weakly against his back, but he doesn’t slow. Gunfire explodes behind us, bullets chewing through the air. He doesn’t duck. Doesn’t dodge. Just storms through it like he’s fucking bulletproof.
An SUV screeches around the corner.
He throws the door open, then throws me inside.
I slam against the seat, pain flaring as my shoulder collides with the doorframe. Before I can sit up, he’s on me again, climbing in and shoving me further into the seat, his solid weight like a cage, pressing me against the door.
I hiss, clutching my thigh, trying to slow the bleeding.
Then the others pile in.
One drops beside me, trapping me between him and Priest. The other takes shotgun. Both Sovereigns. Both massive. The doors slam shut, and the SUV lurches forward.
The gunfire fades behind me—but the danger doesn’t.
The air inside turns heavy. Leather, gunpowder, blood…and Sovereigns. The stench of power. The kind that kills without hesitation.
I shift, trying to breathe, trying tothink. But there’s nowhere to go. No space. No safety. Just pain, heat, and panic.Andthe two men flanking me who could break every bone in my body before I could even scream.
I groan, pressing harder on my leg, the edges of my vision starting to go dark.
Priest glances down with a cold dead stare.
“You get shot every time you open your mouth, or is that just a special talent?”
I glare at him, breath coming in short bursts, fighting every instinct screaming to shrink away.
“You’re lucky I didn’t leave you there to bleed out with the rest of the trash.”
I don’t respond. But I make him a silent promise. If I live through this—I’ll make him bleed next.
Chaos erupts in the SUV; shouting, swearing. I’m crushed between monsters. Their broad shoulders, their stench of blood and sweat, the click of their rifles—it’s suffocating. Every time Priest shouts, his body tightens beside me.
Raze jerks the wheel, making the tires screech, and the SUV fishtail around a corner.
“Who the fuck are these guys?!” the front-seat Sovereign snaps, his New Orleans accent thick with panic. His knuckles are bone-white on the rifle in his lap.
“They blew up our cars,” the other growls. “Blew up half the damn street.”
“Someone’s got a fucking death wish,” Priest mutters beside me. His gun rests on his knee, fingers twitching near the trigger. “Raze. Vault. Now.”
The car explodes into arguments—orders, insults, chaos.
But all I hear is that one word.
Vault.
The underground Sovereign base. A death sentence for someone like me. I glance toward the door. Just one shot. Just one second.
The SUV slows for an intersection. My fingers twitch toward the handle.
Now.
I lunge for it. But I don’t even get it halfway open. A steel arm slams across my chest, pinning me back with crushing force.
“I don’t think so, little girl,” Priest sneers.
I shove at his arm. “Let me go!”
