Kyron
The Hollow is not a battle anymore.
It’s collapse.
I bank hard left and take out the dart operative before he clears the tree line — drop him face-first into the dirt, I’m climbing before he stops moving. Below me the smoke is wrong. Too thick. Coming from three directions at once.
I’ve been up here long enough that my wings ache.
The crow has been up here with me. I’ve noticed it between passes, moving differently than it usually does. It keeps circling back toward the bunker entrance.
I know how that feels.
I circle wide and find them through the chaos.
Locke is northwest in his panther form. I don’t look too closely at what’s in his jaws.
He’s going to regret that later.
Rane I lose for a second in the smoke — then find him near the bunker side of the property, already repositioning, already ahead of where he should be.
That’s enough. They’re moving.
Then I see him.
Silas. He’s not fighting, just moving. Focused as he pulls away from the main fight with Harrick on his ass. A few men in black following.
He’s not retreating.
I trace the line of it.
The bunker entrance.
Nova.
The dive is faster than thinking.
I scream before I hit the ground — sharp, short, so that carries — and I’m already shifting before my feet touch dirt. The landing hurts. Second shift today, maybe third, I’ve stopped counting. My knees take it badly and I come up breathless and naked.
Son of a bitch.
Locke is already looking at me from across the yard. He shifted mid-stride somehow. Pulling his pants up while he moves. Eyes asking me a question I’m already answering.
“Silas.” I point toward the bunker. “Now.”
No discussion.
They move.
Rane drops whatever he was doing to the operative in front of him and runs. Trey is already ahead of us somehow. Vaelor pulls a shirt over his head while he moves — inside out, doesn’t care.
Beckett isn’t with us.
Beckett is already there.
The bunker entrance is open.
Dammit.
I hear it before I can see it.
We move fast and quiet. Me first with Locke right behind. Nothing in the world is going to stop him from getting to her. The stairwell goes down —
We find Beckett on the landing.
He’s not alone. An operative, bigger than him, trying to hold the lower door shut. Beckett has him by the collar. They’re fighting hard against the wall and Beckett’s losing ground.
Locke covers the distance and the problem stops being a problem.
Nobody pauses.
Beckett doesn’t look at his hands. He looks at the door.
“They’re already in,” he says.
Trey kicks it open.
The voices hit us first.
Silas.
Laith.
Nova — one word — “Good.”
She sounds…
I have to stop moving for half a second.
We come through the door whether they like it or not.
Too fucking bad.
Laith in the chair, still restrained, watching.
Three operatives along the walls, hands slightly up — they know what just walked in.
Harrick too close on Nova’s left.
Silas closer on her right.
Nova standing between them on pure stubbornness. Shoulder wrong. Face pale. One hand at her side. She’s been holding herself together through sheer refusal for longer than anyone should have to.
Alive.
That’s what matters.
Locke makes a sound and it sends my blood racing. He takes one step and Rane and Trey catch him at the same time and Locke stops. His hands are shaking.
Silas doesn’t look at us.
He’s looking at her.
“You know what’s funny,” he says. Completely even. “I’ve been watching you since the day you walked in. And you still ended up exactly where I said you would.”
I’m reading his face and I realize something I hadn’t before. For Silas, this is personal. Not some Nightmare Order bullshit. This is all him.
Nova looks at him. Then at Harrick.
“It was you,” she says.
Not a question.
Harrick’s chin comes up. “I gave them what they needed.”
“Of course you did.”
She sounds bored.
I shift hiding my smirk.
“You told them,” Rane says, his voice shaking. “She could have fucking died because of you and you’re standing here like—” He stops. “You’re proud of it.”
Harrick smirks.
Rane takes a step. Vaelor catches him.
Silas moves toward Nova.
Her eyes go white.
The mark blazes. Glowing wings flicker at her shoulders — there and not there. The temperature in the room drops about ten degrees in half a second.
“If you fucking touch me…”
She doesn’t finish it.
She doesn’t have to.
Silas jerks back.
“What the…” He breathes.
“Enough.”
One word from Laith.
Silas stops.
Laith looks at him.
“Leave her.”
“She’s—”
“I said leave her.” Laith doesn’t leave room for argument as one of the operatives undoes his restraints. “We’re done here.”
The silence is enormous.
Silas looks at Nova one more time as he follows his father.
I don’t like the way he’s looking at her.
“Now.”
If Rane starts to laugh I swear to god…
Harrick follows like he just lost his favorite toy. The three operatives file out behind them. The door at the top of the stairs opens and closes. The sounds from above rush in for a moment and then it’s gone.
Just us.
And Nova.
I get to her first.
“Hey,” I say.
Her throat moves.
“Hey,” she says back.
My hand finds her face before I decide to reach — she leans into it.
She’s shaking. She’s been running on adrenaline through all of it.
“Nova.” My voice comes out broken. “You’re okay. I promise.”
Behind me Locke still hasn’t moved.
Rane is silent for the first time in memory.
She nods, then stops herself.
“You can’t promise that.”
I feel the words sting, but she’s right.
“I can for right now.”
I look back at the guys, then back to her.
“Pretty sure they’re going to have to kill all of us to get to you again.”
I don’t understand what I’ve said until it’s too late.
She’s looking at all of us. Whispering under her breath.
Counting.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.
I wrap my arms around her.
“We’re here, Angel.” I squeeze tighter.
“We’re here.”