Chapter 13 #2
I turned toward the fleeing soldier, raised my hand, and reached for the well of power I’d been avoiding all night. It felt empty—hollowed out from the temple, from the fight, from everything. But I didn’t have a choice.
The magic came reluctantly at first, thick and sluggish, then all at once. It ripped through me like wildfire, a searing pulse that made my vision flash white. My veins burned, my fingers trembling as energy gathered in my palm.
The fleeing man turned at the last second, sensing it.
Too late.
The pulse hit him square in the back. The blast was small—barely more than a shockwave—but it was enough. Blue-white light flared, and the man screamed, the sound cut short as he hit the ground face-first, skidding across the concrete. The artifact flew from his hands, tumbling across the floor.
I was already moving before it stopped. My boots slipped on ash and glass as I sprinted forward. The heat clawed at my skin, every breath searing my throat, but the only thing I saw was that golden glow.
I dove, scooping the artifact into my arms. The moment my fingers touched it, its pulse steadied again—like a heartbeat syncing with mine. The air around me thrummed, the magic in me reacting to its energy.
Behind me, the soldier I’d stabbed staggered upright, his movements jerky, mechanical. His eyes were unfocused, his body smoking where metal met flesh. He took one step toward me—then another.
Con appeared out of the smoke like something carved from the fire itself. He grabbed the soldier by the collar and drove his blade through the man’s throat with a single brutal motion. The body hit the ground before I could blink.
“Cass!” he barked, his voice cutting through the roar. “Move!”
I didn’t argue.
We ran.
The fire was everywhere now, licking up the walls, curling through the rafters. The ceiling above us groaned, beams twisting as the metal began to fail. A cascade of sparks rained down like burning snow.
Con stayed ahead of me, cutting a path through debris and fallen steel. The heat was unbearable, our shadows stretched long and red in the flickering light. The loading bay door was half-open, warped from the heat, but it was enough. We ducked under, the flames chasing us out into the night.
The cold hit first—brutal and sudden. The contrast made me stumble, the freezing air burning against sweat and smoke. We didn’t stop moving. The warehouse behind us was an inferno now, flames tearing through the roof, sending thick plumes of black smoke curling into the dark sky.
We sprinted for the tree line, the snow crunching beneath our boots.
When we reached the edge of the woods, Con turned, watching the warehouse collapse in on itself. The sound was like the earth groaning in pain—steel twisting, glass shattering, the roar of destruction swallowing everything.
Flames reflected in his eyes as he sheathed his blade, his breath forming clouds in the cold. “You got it?”
I touched my hip, the artifact’s golden light pulsing through the leather satchel. “Yeah,” I rasped. “I’ve got it.”
He gave a single nod, his gaze still on the burning ruin below. “Good.”
The forest around us was silent except for the distant crackle of fire. Snow began to fall again, thin flakes hissing as they touched the heat rising from the blaze. I sank to one knee, every muscle trembling, the artifact still cradled against me.
Con crouched beside me, his hand resting briefly on my shoulder—steady, grounding.
“Rest,” he said quietly. “You’ve done enough for one night.”
I looked at the burning horizon, at what was left of the lab, of the monsters we’d fought, and the secret we’d stolen back from the dead.
“No,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “We’re not done yet.”
Con’s jaw tightened. “We are for now.”
The snow kept falling, thickening, blurring the edges of the world until it was only fire and frost and the two of us in between—
and the constant heartbeat of something ancient and alive, pulsing in my hands.
The cold bit through my clothes as I tried to stand.
My legs trembled, the exhaustion from the battle and the fire dragging at me like invisible chains.
The snow swirled in slow, glowing spirals around us—white flakes catching in the light of the burning warehouse behind.
I pushed against the ground, but my balance faltered halfway up.
Con’s hand was there before I fell.
Strong fingers caught my arm, his grip firm. The other came to my waist, guiding me up until I was fully upright. His body was a solid heat against the night’s chill. The smell of him—smoke, metal, and that subtle trace of cedar—wrapped around me, grounding me in the moment.
“Easy,” he murmured. “You’ve lost too much energy.”
“I’m fine,” I said, though my voice was little more than a breath.
“You’re not,” he countered quietly. He stepped closer, his arm sliding around my back to keep me stable. I could feel the tension in him—every muscle taut, ready, even now, when we should have been safe.
I looked up to meet his gaze.
Snowflakes caught in his dark hair, melting against the heat radiating off his skin.
His eyes, golden even in the half-light, held something raw beneath their usual control—something that broke through all the walls he carried like armor.
The firelight flickered across his face, tracing the angles of his jaw, the scar near his mouth.
My heart stuttered.
“Con,” I started, but I didn’t get the rest out.
His hand shifted from my waist to the small of my back, pulling me in closer. The motion was unhurried, deliberate, as if he were giving me time to stop him.
I didn’t.
He lowered his head until his breath brushed against my lips—a mix of smoke and winter air—and then his mouth was on mine.
The world fell away.
It wasn’t a soft kiss, not at first. It was desperate—weeks, maybe years of restraint breaking all at once. The taste of him was heat and ash, wild and grounding all at once. I felt the tremor that ran through him, the way his hand tightened briefly against my spine, anchoring me.
For a moment, everything else—the fire, the snow, the blood, the ache in my body—disappeared. There was only the press of his mouth, the drag of leather against leather, the pulse of the artifact between us thudding in rhythm with my own heart.
He deepened the kiss, slower now, like a vow written against my skin. When I finally pulled back, it wasn’t because I wanted to; I needed space.
Con didn’t move far. His forehead rested against mine, breath still unsteady, the slightest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Couldn’t let you fall,” he murmured, voice rough.
“You didn’t,” I whispered back. “You never do.”
Snow drifted down between us, settling in his hair and on my coat, the flakes melting as they touched our skin. Behind us, the last of the warehouse groaned and collapsed, the flames flaring one final time before dimming into embers.
For a long moment, we stood there—just two silhouettes in the flicker of firelight, smoke curling around us, the heartbeat of the artifact still pulsing between us.
Then Con’s thumb brushed over my cheek, the gesture so careful it almost undid me. “We should move,” he said softly, though he didn’t let go right away. “Before someone else decides to come looking.”
“Right,” I managed, still dazed.
He stepped back just enough for me to breathe again, his hand lingering a second longer at my waist before dropping away. The heat of his touch stayed, though—the kind of warmth that wouldn’t fade, no matter how cold the night became.
And as we turned toward the forest, the snow falling thicker now, I couldn’t help the thought that slipped through me like fire beneath the frost—
I hadn’t fallen.
I’d been caught.