We begin pushing toward the tree line. I keep Lena tight against my side, half-carrying her. Every time she flinches at a nearby impact, my vision goes hot and narrow.
Two Ascendancy soldiers break through the flank, sprinting toward us.
I twist, fire twice, drop them both.
Lena gasps softly against my shoulder. “Ronan—”
“I told you,” I say, voice low and lethal, “nothing gets near you.”
Aaron’s voice shouts from ahead, “We’ve got movement on the ridge! Rifle nests!”
Of course.
Roscov isn’t just trying to take her back.
He’s trying to crush us here. The entire team.
A shot zooms past, grazing my arm. Pain flares hot. Lena cries out, reaching for me.
“I’m fine,” I say sharply.
“You’re bleeding!”
“I’ve bled worse.”
Another crack — closer this time. Beckett dives in, slamming into me, shoving Lena out of the bullet’s path. The round hits a tree behind us, exploding bark.
“Pierce!” Beckett snaps. “Focus!”
“I am focused!” I growl back.
“Not on her safety,” he fires back. “On your emotions.”
My glare could kill a man.
Beckett grabs my vest, yanking me close. “She doesn’t need a martyr. She needs you alive.”
A breath I didn’t know I was holding shudders out of me.
He’s right.
I shift Lena behind a rock outcropping, shielding her as Aaron tosses smoke canisters toward the advancing soldiers.
A gray wall of cover blossoms across the trees.
“Move through it!” River commands. “They’ll be blind for ten seconds!”
I scoop Lena into my arms. “Hold on.”
Her arms wrap around my neck instantly — not out of fear, but trust.
I run.
Fast.
Low.
Dodging debris and branches as bullets cut through the smoke.
