His eyes burned as he flopped onto the sofa and grabbed the half-crushed blanket Gemma always used. He held it to his chest for several heartbeats, breathing in her scent. She should be here in his arms. Not in some fucking cell.
He threw the blanket across the room.
Christian pressed his hands to his face and dragged them down slowly. He forced his breathing to even out. He’d spent his whole life learning how to fight through pain. This was no different. He’d wear the uniform. He’d play the role. He’d earn their trust one nod, one salute, one lie at a time.
And then he’d tear down every wall between her and freedom. It didn’t matter anymore what the Systems promised him.
He wouldn’t stop fighting until he had her.
She woke to the sound of Nadine singing, her voice loud, off-key, and obnoxious.
Gemma groaned and rolled onto her side, blinking against the too-bright, overhead ultralights. “Illari, make it stop.”
“Morning, sunshine,” Nadine chirped through the frosted electroglass separating their cells. “Sleep well, or did the gas give you some trippy dreams?”
“I dreamt you were quiet. Happy to stay that way.”
“You wound me.”
Gemma sat up slowly, her body stiff. Her stomach felt hollow, and her head throbbed from the sedative. But her limbs obeyed,and her heart—though fragile—kept steady.
“I don’t think I want to talk to you ever again,” she said, her voice hoarse.
“And yet, I have so much to say, and I’m right next door.” Nadine gave a theatrical sigh. “Fate’s got such a flair for drama.”
Gemma didn’t answer. She pressed her shoulder against the glass and waited. Eventually, Nadine’s silhouette appeared.
“Look,” Nadine started, her tone softer, “I know what I did to you was unforgivable. I know you hate me. And maybe you should.”
Gemma didn’t respond.
“But you need to know I never stopped watching out for you. Even now. You’re not alone, Gemstone.”
The weight of those words settled in her chest, fragile and awful. She couldn’t let herself believe Nadine again, not completely. But it still mattered. It always would.
The sharp buzz of the security gate sounded before Gemma could speak. She jumped and stood quickly, wiping her palms against her jumpsuit. Footsteps echoed through the corridor. Three guards approached her cell, a fourth person behind them.
Her breath caught. She’d recognize that frame anywhere.
Christian.
Gemma’s heart slammed against her ribs. She hadn’t wanted him to see her like this, to know his last memories of her would be as a prisoner too dangerous for this world. But the moment his eyes locked onto hers, she knew letting him go wasn’t an option. He was her partner, her best friend. She needed to convince him to come for her, to rescue her, to save her. She didn’t know where they would go, but she couldn’t say goodbye.
The lead guard tapped a code into a small device, and the front panel of electroglass shimmered. Christian stepped through, but the guards didn’t leave.
Christian held up a hand when Gemma tried to approach him. He swallowed. “Since you’re leaving, I think it’s best if we just end this now.”
She stumbled backward, tears filling her eyes. He wasn’t going to fight for her? He’d promised he’d still love her, would be here when she needed him . . . Had it all been a lie?
He gave the faintest shake of his head. “Sit, please,” he said quietly, gesturing to the cot.
Confused, and a massive lump in her throat, she obeyed. Christian knelt in front of her, angling himself away from the guards.
His lips moved carefully, deliberately.Can you tell what I’m saying?
She nodded subtly. Learning to read lips was a skill she’d been forced to learn as a doctor’s apprentice.
Don’t believe a word I say out loud.
