Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lucas
The pitch darkness was consuming. Heavy. Endless.
I was falling… or maybe sinking. There was no ground, no sky, just an infinite void pressing down on me, smothering me. My body felt weightless and yet impossibly heavy, as though the darkness had become a part of me, pulling me deeper.
The sounds of battle, the searing pain of Damien’s blade… it all seemed so far away now, like a distant memory I could barely grasp.
And then I heard her voice, the only voice that could pull me out of this dark, deep hell of nothingness.
“Lucas, stay with me. Please...”
It was faint at first, a gentle ripple in the overwhelming silence. But as the words reached me, they grew louder, sharper, cutting through the void like a blade of light. All I could do was listen to them, grab onto them like a drowning man grabbed onto a life preserver belt.
“Lucas! Don’t you dare give up on me!”
Annika.
My light. My life. My love.
I tried to move, to speak, to let her know I was there, but my body refused to obey. My lips weren’t my own. My tongue was numb. My mind was a blank.
I was trapped, caught in the liminal space between life and death, unable to reach her.
But her voice didn’t falter. It refused to let go. It kept pulling me back to herself.
“You hear me? You’re not leaving me, Lucas. I won’t let you.”
Her words were fierce, commanding, filled with a desperation that made something stir deep within me. And then I felt it. A warmth spreading through the darkness, faint at first but growing stronger.
It started at my chest, where Damien’s blade had torn into me, a tingling sensation that chased away the pain. Slowly, the warmth spread, filling every corner of my being, pushing back the cold, oppressive void.
Her touch.
I could feel it now, her hands pressed to my chest, trembling but resolute. And with it came a glow, faint but undeniable, sparking behind my closed eyes.
“Come back to me,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
The light grew brighter, more insistent, until it consumed the darkness entirely. My body surged with energy, the warmth transforming into a searing, almost unbearable heat. I gasped, the air flooding my lungs in a painful rush, and my eyes snapped open.
The first thing I saw was her face.
She was above me, her hair wild, her eyes red and swollen with tears, but filled with a fierce determination that took my breath away. Her hands were still pressed to my chest, glowing faintly, and as the light faded, she let out a shaky sob.
“Lucas,” she breathed, every note filled with love.
I stared at her, my mind struggling to catch up. The pain was gone, replaced by a strange sense of clarity, as though I’d been pulled back from the brink by sheer force of will. By her will.
“Annika,” I managed, my voice hoarse and weak.
She let out a laugh; it was half a sob, half relief. Then, she cradled my face in her hands.
“You scared the hell out of me,” she whispered, her tears falling freely now.
I reached up, my fingers brushing against hers, solid and warm and real.
“You... brought me back,” I said, the realization settling over me like a wave.
Her expression faltered, fear and uncertainty flickering in her eyes.
“I don’t know how,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just... I couldn’t lose you.”
I swallowed hard, my throat dry, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from her. She had saved me. Somehow, against all odds, she had brought me back from the darkness.
“You didn’t,” I murmured, my hand tightening over hers. “You didn’t lose me.”
Her lower lip trembled, and she closed her eyes for a moment, letting out a shaky breath. When she opened them again, the fierce determination had returned.
“Good,” she said, her voice stronger now. “Because I’m not letting you go, Lucas. Not ever.”
“Well, well, lovebirds,” Callum’s voice cut through the haze of relief and exhaustion, its familiar sardonic edge shattering the fragile stillness between us. “Hate to break up this tender moment, but the world doesn’t pause for your romance. Headquarters. Now.”
I groaned, more out of reflex than actual annoyance, but I didn't move right away. Annika’s hands were still on me, her warmth grounding me, the faint trace of her touch lingering like an unspoken promise.
She let out a small, embarrassed laugh and pulled back, brushing her hair out of her face. I caught her hand before it could retreat completely, holding it just a second longer.
“Callum,” I said, turning my head toward him. My voice was hoarse, but the hint of humor in my tone was unmistakable. “You really know how to ruin a moment.”
He smirked, arms crossed, the dim light catching on the edge of his bloodied weapon.
“You’re welcome. Now haul yourselves up before I start thinking you need a wedding planner.”
Annika let out another nervous laugh, but I could see the faint blush creeping up her neck. She stood first, her movements stiff and uncertain, like she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself now.
I followed her lead, my body aching with every movement, though the pain was duller than I expected. Whatever she’d done, whatever power she’d used, it had worked. I was alive. She had saved me… twice.
Callum gave me a pointed look as we passed him, his smirk softening just enough for me to catch the unspoken concern beneath his usual bravado.
“You good?” he asked quietly as we moved toward the group.
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if it was for his benefit or mine. “Yeah,” I said, my voice steadier now. “Let’s get back.”
The walk back to the headquarters was quiet. We could all barely believe that we were returning with a victory. At the far end, Damien was being brought as well, his entire body chained, rendering him powerless. Well, as powerless as someone like him could ever be.
Annika stayed close, her hand brushing against mine occasionally, though neither of us said anything. When we finally reached the headquarters, the familiar sight brought relief.
Callum slapped me on the shoulder as we entered, his grin sharp and fleeting.
“Welcome home,” he said dryly, before disappearing into the shadows of the main room.
Half an hour later, Damien sat slumped in the reinforced chair, bound by iron shackles laced with runes meant to suppress his strength. His once-imposing demeanor was reduced to a glowering silence. His fury was palpable but impotent. The rebels had secured him in one of the reinforced rooms we used for interrogations, and now, we all gathered in the main room to take stock of the situation.
Bloodied clothes and weary faces surrounded me, but the weight of survival had given way to cautious celebration. We had done it. We’d taken the main stronghold.
Callum stood near the map table, the usual smirk softened by genuine pride.
“Well,” he said, his voice carrying over the murmurs, “we did it. Took down the stronghold, and as far as we can tell, Damien here was pulling most of the strings. There are still shifters scattered across the town, but with their leader in chains…” He let the implication hang, the room buzzing with unspoken hope.
The rebels broke into cheers, fists pounding on the table, voices rising in celebration.
Annika stood to my left, her eyes fixed on the commotion. Her expression was unreadable, but I knew her well enough by now to sense the storm beneath her calm exterior. I leaned in closer, my voice low so only she could hear.
“How does it feel?” I asked.
She turned to me, her lips parting as if to answer, but then she just shook her head with a small, enigmatic smile.
“Surreal,” she finally said.
Callum raised his voice again, pulling everyone’s attention back. “The town’s ours now, or it will be very soon. We’ll hunt down the rest of the shifters and make sure they can’t regroup. And as for the town itself—” he paused, looking around, “—anyone who wants to stay, to rebuild, you’re welcome here.”
The room erupted again, louder this time. People clapped backs, exchanged triumphant grins, and even the most stoic among us couldn’t resist the spark of hope.
I stayed quiet, watching it all unfold. This was what we’d been fighting for. A chance for freedom, for something better. But as my gaze drifted back to Annika, I knew this moment wasn’t just about victory.
It was about choices.
Soon after, the entire room was alive with celebration. It was the kind of raw, unrestrained joy that only comes after surviving the impossible. Rebels raised glasses of whatever liquor they could scavenge, their laughter cutting through the heavy air of victory. For the first time in what felt like years, people were smiling, really smiling, and the burden of war seemed lighter.
But I couldn’t bring myself to join in, not fully. My focus was on her.
Annika stood near the edge of the room, a quiet island in the sea of noise and revelry. Her hair caught the flickering light of the makeshift lanterns, and the faintest smile tugged at her lips as she watched the others. She didn’t seem to notice the way people occasionally glanced her way. She was a hero to them now, though I doubted she’d ever see herself that way.
To me, she was something else entirely.
I leaned against the wall, nursing a half-forgotten drink, and let myself watch her. There was a pull in my chest, sharp and insistent, as if I could will her to look at me. She had fought so fiercely, saved so many, including me, but now, in this moment of peace, she looked... lost. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
What would it take for her to stay?
The thought caught me off guard, though it shouldn’t have. It had been there, lurking beneath the surface ever since we’d met. Every time she spoke, every time she fought beside me, every time she touched me. It wasn’t just her strength or her compassion, though those were undeniable. It was the way she made me feel, like there was still something worth holding onto in this broken world.
But could I ask her to stay?
I turned the question over in my mind, my grip tightening around the glass. No, I couldn’t ask her. Not outright. She’d already sacrificed so much, been dragged into a war that wasn’t hers to begin with. She had a life outside of this, a mother waiting for her, a world I could never truly be part of.
And yet, the selfish part of me, the part I’d buried under years of discipline and duty, couldn’t stop hoping. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, she would choose this. Choose me.
Her laugh, soft and fleeting, broke through the noise, and I felt it like a punch to the gut. She was standing with Lena now, sharing a brief, lighthearted moment. I couldn’t hear what was said, but the way her shoulders relaxed, the way her lips curved into that rare, genuine smile, it was enough to keep me rooted in place, unable to look away.
I didn’t dare move toward her yet. The night was still young, and this wasn’t the time for us to talk. But I drank in the sight of her, memorizing every detail as if I could hold onto it forever.
For now, I’d wait. But soon, I’d find a moment. A quiet one, away from all of this chaos. And I’d let her know, somehow, just how much she meant to me. Even if it was the last chance I ever got.