Chapter 9
Cristox
The siren cut through my dreams like a blade, sharp and merciless.
I jolted awake, heart hammering against my ribs before my eyes fully opened. The wail was piercing, urgent—nothing like the distant, mechanical alarms of the Historia. This was close. This was here. This was the kind of sound that meant lives hung in the balance.
I was on my feet before conscious thought caught up, yanking on the jeans I'd left crumpled on the floor. No shirt, no shoes—there wasn't time. Every instinct screamed that something was catastrophically wrong.
I burst through the guest house door and nearly collided with Mei on the porch. Bartholomeus was right behind her, his usually serene face grave in the pre-dawn darkness, shadows carving deep lines around his eyes.
"What is it?" I demanded, voice rough with sleep and adrenaline.
"Fire alarm." Mei's usual composure cracked at the edges like fractured glass. She pointed toward the center of town, where an orange glow was beginning to paint the sky in hellish shades. "The town only has one siren. It means..."
But I was already scenting the air, nostrils flaring wide. Smoke. Thick and acrid, laced with something chemical that made my throat constrict. And underneath it all, woven through the destruction, the unmistakable smell of baking bread, of cinnamon and sugar, of her.
The bakery.
My blood turned to ice.
"Ruby," I breathed, her name a prayer and a curse.
Then I was running.
My bare feet pounded against pavement, stones and gravel biting into my soles with each stride, but I didn't feel it. I felt nothing except the primal terror clawing up my throat. The glow grew brighter with every step, and now I could see flames. Hungry tongues of orange and red licking up the building's side like a beast devouring prey, reaching for the second floor where Ruby and Teddy slept.
A small crowd had gathered, villagers in nightclothes standing at a helpless distance, faces painted orange by firelight, expressions frozen in horror. I shoved through them without apology. They were obstacles between me and what mattered most.
That's when I saw Peacekeeper Craig dragging someone out the front door, smoke billowing around them both.
Ruby.
She fought him like a wild thing, nightclothes torn and smudged with soot, hair billowing around her face like a golden halo. She was screaming, the sound raw and desperate enough to tear something vital in my chest.
"TEDDY! MY BABY! TEDDY'S STILL INSIDE!"
She clawed at Craig's arms, trying to wrench free, trying to throw herself back into the inferno. The peacekeeper's face was grim as he hauled her further from the building, musclesstraining, grip iron-tight even as she landed a solid hit to his jaw that snapped his head sideways.
"Ruby, you can't—the structure's not stable."
"MY SON IS IN THERE!" The words tore from her throat, primal and agonized.
I didn't think. Didn't hesitate. My body moved on pure instinct, every cell screaming one word: Cub. My cub.
The heat hit me like a physical wall as I charged through the front door, a blast of superheated air searing my lungs. Smoke billowed thick and black, making each breath a battle. I dropped low where the air was clearer and took the stairs three at a time, flames already eating through the banister. The floor groaned beneath my weight, threatening to give way, but I didn't slow.
Teddy's room was upstairs, toward the front. The door hung open, and I burst through, eyes streaming from smoke, tears cutting tracks through the soot already coating my face. The flames hadn't reached this room yet, but the smoke was dense enough to kill, a gray-black fog that turned everything into shadows and ghosts.
"Teddy!" My voice came out as a roar, desperate and commanding.
The bed was empty, covers thrown back. My heart seized.
"TEDDY!"
A whimper. Soft, terrified, coming from the closet.
I crossed the room in two strides and yanked the door open. There he was, curled in the corner behind a pile of toys, little face streaked with tears and soot, eyes wide with terror.
