And then I see her—
Bryn.
Just a flash of her face. Eyes wide with terror. Roman’s finger curls around the trigger, and
Bang.
She crumples.
Like paper.
Fragile.
Broken.
Her body hits the floor, and the world twists with it, colors bleeding, sound warping into nothing.
“No…” The word scrapes out of me, dry and lifeless.
Then—
A flicker.
A light.
Small. Distant. But it’s there, like a candle gasping for air, and she steps out of it.
Aspen.
Bloodied, bruised, but standing. Fierce. Fucking beautiful. Her eyes lock on mine, and I feel like I can breathe again.
She says softly, “Dante… don’t leave me.”
I reach for her. My hands tremble like I’ve been buried alive. The world is spinning off its center, but I don’t care; I need her. I want her. I pull her close, and when our lips meet, it’s like I’ve been dragged out of hell just for this.
She’s everything. The only thing keeping me from falling apart.
But it changes.
The kiss turns colder. Her lips are too greedy.
The taste isn’t hers.
And when I open my eyes…
It’s not Aspen anymore.
It’s Bryn.
Her face inches from mine, eyes dark like the fucking abyss. She smiles, but there’s no light behind it. Just hunger. Possession. Desperation.
“I saved you, Dante,” she whispers against my mouth.
I try to pull back. My limbs won’t move.
Her grip tightens. Her nails dig into my shoulders. Her kiss deepens, too eager, too damn wrong. It’s not affection. It’s a claim. And I feel it, that snap deep inside me, the moment when grief turns to dread.
I’ve been played.
