“No,” I shriek as I’m lifted from the ground. “I can’t leave him!”
I can feel the sting of the salt from the tears before I realize I’m crying. I beg to be released, but Luke throws me over his shoulder as if I’m nothing. My protests fall on deaf ears as he carries me into the smoke filled hallway. I get one final look behind me as we turn. Garett has Brody pinned against a screen with his fist flying into my husband’s jaw. Blood flying across Garett’s glowing mask is the last sight I glimpse before we’re down the hall.
“He’ll kill me if I let you burn up in here,” Luke growls as we fly toward the stairs.
“Stop!” I scream again. “We need to go back.”
When we make it to the second floor landing, the heat grows unbearable. I hold up my injured arm to cover my face, pain shooting through my bicep as flicker flames lick the walls. The house is burning up. They’re right, we need to get out.
And then a single shot rings out.
Ice fills my veins and I try desperately to get away, to get back to him—my home, my everything. Each choked sob pulls in more smoke until I’m coughing. But Luke and Celeste don’t falter; they don’t stop. We race down the stairs with the heat of the flames searing my skin. It’s so hot I feel like I might melt.
“This way,” Liv yells, beckoning us toward the front door.
I fight with everything I have left, desperate to get back to Garett. He never left me. Not once. Not in high school when I didn’t notice him. Not when I was being used and abused by my fiancé. Not when I was slowly dying in a marriage I didn’t belong in. Not when I felt completely alone. He watched from the shadows; a dark angel stalking my path in order to keep me safe. I can’t leave him when he needs me most. He promised to be mine until we were ghosts, but maybe that was sooner than either of us realized.
I’m weak from the blood loss, the likely concussion, the smoke, and the waning adrenaline. Luke is too strong. And when we burst into the cold night air, the soft rain cooling my burning skin, I know there’s no turning back.
“Where the fuck is Garett?” Liv asks as Luke places me down in the damp grass. We are all coughing and heaving in gasping gulps of fresh air. My lungs burn with each sharp intake.
“We had to get out,” Luke explains, pulling off his mask and throwing it to the ground. We all follow suit—discarding our glowing masks on the cold ground. “He was still dealing with Brody—”
He’s cut off when a second shot rings out.
We stare at each other, concern apparent on every one of our faces. Another shot? Who’s still inside?
As if summoned by my thoughts, a figure emerges from the doorway. Flames dance wildly behind him, obscuring his face. But I don’t need to see his face—my soul knows.
“Garett,” I choke out as my dark Devil stalks from the flames.
Pushing off the damp ground, I stand on shaky legs. Flames rise higher and higher, entirely engulfing the house. Smoke spirals up toward the stars above. And from it, a dark figure stalks forward.
I take off on a run.
“Ali!” someone shouts behind me but I don’t stop. I know it’s him.
My feet carry me over the slick grass and toward the warmth of the burning building. Toward my stalker, toward my protector, toward my freedom.
He’s limping slightly and holding his side, but as I get closer, a smile pulls at his face. The tears continue to fall down my cheeks, but now they’re tears of relief. I crash into him at full speed, too desperate to feel him to slow down at all. He lets out a pained grunt but wraps his arms around me, holding me tightly.
“I thought I’d lost you,” I whimper into his chest as I cling to him as if he’s my lifeline—my safety in the storm.
“Never,” he whispers as he pulls back slightly. His fingers slide beneath my chin and tilt my eyes up to meet his. “I promised you that you were mine—now and always. I keep my promises, beautiful.”
And then he kisses me. Not a hungry and heated kiss. It’s slow and soft and sweet; because now, finally, we have all the time in the world. I can sense the others standing around us, watching us. But I don’t pull away. I let Garett’s tongue plunder my mouth, exploring lazily as I moan into him.
“I’m glad you’re here, brother,” Luke finally says as Garett and I break apart. His hands stay wrapped around me possessively, as if he can’t stand to let me go.
The feeling is absolutely mutual.
“Maybe throw that gun in the fire and let’s get the fuck out of here,” Liv states as the heat of the raging flames forces us to move further away.
“Not my gun,” Garett grumbles as he unwinds himself from around me to wipe the weapon clean with the bottom of his shirt before tossing it on the ground. “It’s Brody’s. I took it off him after shooting him.”
He turns to me, dark eyes assessing my reaction. I wait for some flicker of feeling about my husband’s death, but there’s nothing. He earned this fate.
“And the second shot?” Luke asks.
