“You think this makes you strong?”Klarissa shot back, her voice shaking but clear.“Killing teachers, threatening children?That’s not strength—it’s cowardice.”
His smirk faltered, just for a second, before twisting cruel again.“Cowardice?No.Strategy.You always underestimated me, girl.I always thought you were smarter.But you never understood power.Fear is power.Fear bends knees.Fear builds empires.”
Fear.The word rang inside her, and she almost laughed.She remembered being a child in his house, hiding under her bed as his rage shook the walls.She remembered the bruises she covered, the silence she kept.And she remembered the day she left, swearing she would never be that terrified little girl again.She had survived him once—she would survive him now.
“You don’t scare me,” she said, her lip bleeding.“Not anymore.”
Caruso sneered, leaning close enough that she could feel his breath.“Liar.I see the tremble in your hands, the quiver in your voice.You’re still the frightened little girl I broke.And I’ll break you again.Only this time, there won’t be anything left to put back together.”
The room went still.His henchmen glanced at each other, uneasy.Caruso’s nostrils flared, and he shoved the barrel of the gun under her chin.
“You’ll give me what I want.The formula.Or I’ll paint these walls with the blood of children until you break.”
Her knees trembled, but she forced herself to stand taller.She thought of Rune’s quiet steadiness, Kamon’s fiery loyalty, the way their eyes softened when they looked at her.She thought of the way they had held her, promised her she was never alone.That was her strength.That was her anchor.
“You’ll never have it,” she whispered.“Not from me.”
Caruso growled, circling her again.“Stupid girl.You’ve always thought yourself better.Better than me, better than everyone.But you’re nothing without the knowledge I gave you.I built you.You owe me everything.”
Her chin lifted, defiant even with blood trickling down her face.“I owe you nothing.Every scar you left on me made me stronger.Every lesson you forced on me taught me how to fight you.You didn’t build me—you forged me.And the blade you made is pointed straight at you.”
His hand lashed out again, another strike across her face.Her head snapped sideways, but she laughed, low and bitter.“You can beat me.You can threaten me.But you’ll never own me.Not now.Not ever.”
Caruso’s teeth bared.He turned and barked at one of his men.The thug grabbed a girl, no older than ten, dragging her forward by the hair.The child screamed.
Klarissa’s heart lurched.She thought of all the children she had sworn to protect, the future she had fought to build out of her own mistakes.She stepped forward instinctively, shielding the child with her body.“Don’t touch her!”she snarled.“I’ll write it.Bring me paper.”
Caruso’s eyes gleamed, triumphant.“Good girl.You always were smart enough to know when you’d lost.”
But Klarissa’s mind was racing, refusing his truth.Not lost.Never lost.Her bond thrummed stronger now, like a lifeline stretching across the city.Rune and Kamon were out there, hearts tied to hers.She could feel them moving closer, burning with the same desperation.She just had to hold on long enough.
Her hands shook, hidden in the folds of her coat, as the henchmen scrambled for paper.She prayed again, harder this time, that Rune and Kamon would reach her before she damned them all.
****
The smoke still clungto the halls of the school when Rune and Kamon finally stepped back out into the gray Chicago morning.Their boots left streaks of blood across cracked tiles, their bodies tense, senses straining for danger.The Pride had split—the battle wasn’t confined to a single front anymore.
The Holt brothers lingered behind, their eyes fixed on the teacher who had guided them to the gym.She stood in the wreckage, trembling, her lip split, her blouse stained.Rune caught the sharp, almost feral way the brothers looked at her.Hunger.Need.Something primal that had nothing to do with battle.The woman’s brow furrowed in confusion as she met their stares.Interest, too, if Rune was reading it right.But the moment passed, duty pulling them on.
Caleb’s voice rumbled low as he finally tore his eyes from her.“We’ll handle the library.Too many reports of civilians trapped inside.”All three lions thundered off, and the teacher’s gaze lingered after them, bewildered.
Kieran and Liam rallied a group of Pride warriors nearby, voices crisp with command.An elementary school just six blocks away had locked itself down, and frantic calls for help still came through the comms.Kieran met Rune’s eyes, the scar on his cheek stark in the light.“We’ll handle this one.You two,” he pointed at Rune and Kamon, “find her.Don’t stop until you do.”
And just like that, they were alone.
The street was eerily quiet after the shouting and gunfire.Rune felt the absence of their Pride like a hollow in his chest.He and Kamon stood shoulder to shoulder in the ruins, the silence thick enough to choke.
“How?”Kamon rasped finally, voice raw.“Where do we even start?”
Rune opened his mouth, but then it hit.
The mate bond.
It slammed into him like a freight train, hard enough that he staggered a step.His heart seized, his lungs clamped shut, and then it roared open, flooding his chest with heat and light.Klarissa.The fledgling bond they had once shattered now blazed alive, reforged stronger than steel.Pain lanced through him—her pain—as if her father’s strikes had landed across his own skin.Anger surged too, bright and sharp, but beneath it, steady and unyielding, came her love.
Rune’s knees nearly buckled.He gasped, his vision swimming, and choked out, “Klarissa.”
Kamon’s head snapped up, eyes wide.Rune saw the moment it hit him too—the way his twin swayed before bracing against the wall, his face twisted in shock.Together they closed their eyes, reaching, following the pull like moths to flame.
