My lungs burned from exertion, the cool night air doing nothing to ease the tightness in my chest.
We burst out onto another street, bathed in the faint orange glow of a streetlamp. The hunters were relentless.
Their shouts grew louder as they closed the distance, their boots striking the pavement in a rhythm that felt too close for comfort.
Gael ran ahead, his broad back a perfect, unprotected target. I could end this right now.
The knife tucked into my belt practically called to me. Eliminating the threat would be easy. Gael was a threat. He always had been.
If I brought him down here, Declan and the others would see his lifeless body, proof that I was still one of them.
That I hadn’t lost my edge or my loyalty. But...
My hand hesitated, hovering near the knife’s hilt. Stabbing someone in the back felt wrong. Dishonorable.
And then there was Gael himself.
Why had he saved me?
The memory of him shoving me behind the dumpster just as the bullets started flying refused to fade.
He could have left me to fend for myself. It would have been easier for him, and frankly, smarter. But he hadn’t.
What kind of monster does that?
I didn’t have time to untangle the mess of thoughts clawing at my mind.
Gael suddenly skidded to a halt, his head snapping to the side as he scanned the street.
“Move!” he hissed, grabbing my arm and dragging me toward a narrow passage between two buildings.
His grip was strong but not crushing, his hand cool against my skin. I jerked away on instinct, but I still followed him.
“Do you even have a plan?” I snapped as we ducked into the passage, the darkness swallowing us whole.
“Plans are overrated,” he shot back, his voice dripping with that infuriating smugness.
“Great. That’s comforting,” I retorted.
We emerged in a small courtyard, the distant hum of traffic the only sound besides my ragged breathing.
Gael’s gaze darted around, sharp and calculating.
“They’re splitting up,” he murmured, almost to himself.
I didn’t need to hear the hunters to know he was right. They’d fan out, cover more ground, and box us in. Us.
When did this become an “us” situation?
Gael turned to me, his eyes gleaming even in the dim light. “We need to keep moving.”
“You meanyouneed to keep moving,” I corrected, folding my arms. “This is your mess. You’re the one they’re after.”
His smirk returned, maddening and somehow...compelling.
“Is that what you think, Hunter? That they won’t put a bullet in you for consorting with the enemy?” Gael taunted.
I opened my mouth to retort but closed it just as fast. He wasn’t wrong. And that realization only made my anger burn hotter.
