9. Sawyer #2
I breathe deeply, slowly, pulling my heartrate back to baseline like my life depends on it. Because it does depend on it. Everything I do from this moment forward depends on it.
I get the message, loud and clear.
Pass their test… Or die.
Luna detaches from my hip. Her hands stick to her sides while she stares at the ground. Trembling. As horrified as I am.
I need to get her out of here.
“As well as can be,” I say to Aurelius. My voice is low, though I’m sure Luna could hear if she tried. “Is the room ready?”
Wilcox continues to screech while Aurelius takes his time to answer. “Zephyr has been busy with a birth, but she’ll be putting the final touches on it soon.”
I nod. Stare off at nothing. Pretend I don’t hear the gurgling sounds coming from Wilcox’s teeth being forced in. I retreat inside my head and visualize all the things I need to do—not just to complete my mission but to survive. And to ensure Luna survives.
We have—
I gasp, brain jolting awake as the ball of tension at my side vanishes. Every muscle in my body tenses as I spin just as Luna’s white hair disappears behind a black-cloaked Keeper.
No.
“Luna!” I jump around Aurelius and shoving through the crowd. People turn their heads, but no one moves to stop the escaping captive.
By the time I make it through the crowd, Luna is twenty yards away. In a dead sprint. Heading toward the main building.
“Luna!” I scream as I chase after her.
She’s wearing nothing but my socks, yet she flies ahead of me. Fast. Really fucking fast—an olympic medalist in the hundred yard dash. I stretch my legs, pump my arms, push until my heart feels like it may burst, but I close none of the distance between us.
Fuck.
Fuck.
“Fuck!”
I scan the treeline, expecting a Keeper to pop out at any moment. Bracing for feet at my back. Ears perked for a yell behind me.
Nothing. Just me and Luna in a race with no winner.
What happens next?
What does this mean for us?
Aurelius’s instructions:
Do not cause a scene.
Do not let her scream.
Do not disturb the peace of the Shadow Sanctum.
Luna breaks from the main path into the trees while I trail behind, panic building with every second. Panic that moves my legs faster than I can remember, coats my tongue with an acidic taste that spreads to my nose.
Shadows cast overhead—the tree canopy making everything harder to see. But I see it anyway. See everything—pinecones, deer tracks, chipmunk frozen with fright. Hear everything—leaves rustling, bird chirping, shoes crunching brush.
Everything except for Luna. Where is Luna?
“Luna!” I call. My voice is so pathetically desperate it cracks. My gaze whips at a flash of white—the girl veering to the left, disappearing behind a thick, oak trunk.
“Stop!” I yell, sprinting after her. “Luna, please!”
I weave between two trees. Hop over a fallen limb. Stumble on a snake hole.
Somehow, someway—I pick up my pace, legs leaping instead of running, arms pistoning at my sides. A minute passes before I panic that she’s changed course again. I don’t see her. She could have stopped.
She probably stopped. She’s smart; smart enough to outmatch my stupid, stupid panic. But I keep going anyway because I can’t chance a moment to think.
Another minute passes.
I jerk my head left and right.
She’s nowhere. She’s gone.
“Luna!”
A sharp, agonized scream rips from deeper in the forest. It’s as ear-splitting as Wilcox’s, worse than Wilcox’s. I charge that way and barely slow down when I get to the river and put one foot in front of the other across a fallen tree trunk bridge.
I follow Luna’s pained yells until I find her writhing in brush. A miniature bear trap clutches her shin.
“Fuck,” she whines as she reaches for the trap with trembling hands. She doesn’t quite touch it before her eyes pinch shut with a cringe.
At the sound of me approaching, her eyes pop wide. She scoots backward only to curse in pain and cradle her calf.
“No!” she shrieks—shrieks—when I hit the ground in a full slide, knees carving a track through the dirt as I scan the device. Her palm cracks against my shoulder, frantic, beating me back. “Get away from me!”
I catch her wrist mid-slap. “Calm down.”
“Don’t fucking touch me!” She throws her other fist, but the motion collapses when the twist of her body yanks the trap—metal biting, jaws sinking deeper into her pale skin. A raw sound tears from her throat, half gasp, half snarl.
I look over my shoulder and half-expect a swarm of Keepers to burst from behind trees, electric coils crackling at their sides. If she doesn’t quiet, they’ll be on us soon.
“Hold on,” I scramble to retrieve a thick, sturdy branch.
She kicks my shin when I return, face twisted as she tries to reach my knee, just causing herself more pain.
“Jesus Christ, Luna, stop it.” I catch her ankle and squeeze. “I’m trying to help you.”
“Fuck you.” She yanks against my grip only to writhe in pain.
Furious. Not just scared. Furious—ready to fight, instincts rabid. Everything pinning me as the enemy; so intense it’s … wrong.
Something’s off.
Something happened. Something more than the fight.
Dropping beside her, I pin her ankle beneath my knee before she can kick again. I study the metal jaws sunk into her flesh, smeared with blood and dirt. Not so much to hint at an nipped artery; no permanent damage, but … definitely painful.
“Try to hold still,” I say, wasting the gentleness in my voice as I fit the branch between the teeth.
She slaps at my shoulder, at my face—wild, off-balance—but every strike is broken by little stutters of pain. Tiny gasps. Tightening muscles. The trap bites deeper each time she thrashes.
Deep breath; I press on the branch. Metal groans, and my teeth grind with it. Luna’s scream tears through the trees, sharp enough to send animals scattering, loud enough to guide every Keeper straight to us.
The trap gives.
Luna jerks her foot back with a guttural cry, and I fall forward with the release. She curls hard into herself; clamps her hands around her leg; shakes with gasps like she can’t get enough air.
“I know it hurts, Luna, but you have to be—”
“Get away from me!” She shoves up on an elbow as hatred flares so hot in her eyes it looks unnatural. Blue burns like a fever behind it.
It’s lucky the trees block the sun, because if the light touched her right now she’d be terrifying.
“I’m not your enemy.” You fucking idiot. “I’m not one of them. I’m—”
“You’re worse,” she snarls, slowly dragging her injured leg up with her knee. “I should be begging them for help. Not you, you…” Her eyes dart while she searches for the kill shot. “You sociopath.”
For a moment, my mind blanks. I blink—hard, slow.
What?
A rustle cuts through the forest. Urgent. Heavy. Not hiking—running.
I turn just enough to see the first black-clad clone break from a tree. Then another. Then more.
Weapons ready.
Punishment incoming.
Shit.
Think.
New strategy.
My face hardens as I turn back to Luna. The muscles in my cheeks are so tight, they ache. No mask, no charm, no bullshit.
“Fine.” My voice is flat as stone. “Beg.”
Her brows knit together. She moves her eyes between the Keepers growing closer and me. Unsure what to do, unsure what to think.
“Do you want to live, Luna?”
She only answers with a blink, confirmation in the proudest form.
Infuriating.
“Then make damn sure they know you ran from me, not them. Do you understand?”
Her gaze snaps to the Keepers closing in. Precious seconds pass while she sifts through information, scenarios spinning behind her eyes.
Then—because she’s as smart as I’ve pegged her—it clicks. And for the first time, we get on the same page.
We are not friends.
We are not each other’s solace.
But it’s both our lives on the line… And like it or not, we’re in this together.
“Somebody help me! Please, help me!”