A faint clink echoes off the warehouse walls—innocent, almost too quiet. But in the charged air of a trap gone sideways, it’s a death knell.
“Mine!” Voltar’s shout detonates through my earpiece, louder than the blast that’s about to follow.
I barely turn before a body crashes into mine—dense, armored, moving with impossible speed. Voltar tackles me like a thunderclap, his arms wrapping around my ribs, shielding me with his entire frame.
Then the world breaks.
White light. Heat. A roar that eats the oxygen.
I don’t scream—I can’t. My ears ring like bells melting in my skull. Pressure wraps around my leg, burning sharp and deep. The shockwave kicks dust into my throat. Everything goes sideways.
We hit the ground hard. My shoulder cracks against the concrete, but it’s distant. My nerves are too busy screaming from the agony in my thigh.
Voltar moves fast—terrifyingly fast. Off me, then back again, his hands flying, ripping a field medkit from his belt. He presses something against my leg. I shriek. It’s a primal sound—raw, animal.
“Stay with me!” he roars. “Look at me, damn it!”
I try. I really do. But my vision fractures, streaks of light and shadow flickering like broken film. The ceiling spins above us.Voltar’s face swims into focus—wild eyes, teeth clenched, sweat and blood mingling on his brow.
“I’ve got you, Sable,” he whispers hoarsely, his hand still pressing hard on the wound. “It’s not deep. You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.”
He’s lying. I can feel how deep the metal went. It burns like someone drove a red-hot rod straight through my thigh and left it there to smolder.
I groan. “Don’t… lie to me.”
His eyes shutter, just for a breath. “Alright. Then I’ll tell you the truth.”
He leans in, presses his forehead against mine.
“I’ve never been this scared in my life.”
Behind us, doors slam open. Lazarus’s squad floods the room, suits humming, rifles up. One of them yells something, but it’s garbled. I can’t track it. I can’t track anything.
“Secure the perimeter! Tugun’s still in the wind!”
Footsteps thunder past. But Voltar doesn’t move. His hands stay locked on me, one on my cheek now, his thumb sweeping away blood or dirt or tears—I don’t even know.
“I told you I’d protect you,” he says. “And I will. No matter what it takes.”
The warmth in his voice cracks me open. I want to cry, but it hurts too much to breathe.
“Don’t you dare close your eyes,” he growls.
“I’m tired…” My voice is barely a whisper.
“No. Not now.” He’s desperate, furious. At me. At himself. At everything.
“Voltar,” I say, or maybe just mouth it. “I… I trust you.”
His eyes widen. Then something breaks inside him.
“SABLE!” he roars, cupping my face. “Medic! I need a medic NOW!”
I don’t hear footsteps anymore. Just the rush of my own pulse—fast, irregular. The world fades at the edges, curling in like burning paper.
Then someone else is there. Gloves on my skin. A hiss of injectors.
“Pressure bandage in place! We need evac!”
