Noah
I wasn’t just angry.
I was beyond rage, past reason, walking straight into ruin.
I stood in the hallway outside the room I just pulled Liz from, my fists still bloodied, gun back in hand, breathing like a man who barely had a hold on himself.
I had never wanted to kill someone more in my life.
Every mark on her body burned into my memory. Every bruise he put on her. Every injection. Every tear.
He hurt her.
He touched what was mine.
And now I was going to make him bleed.
I checked the mag, reloaded, racked it with a snap, and turned toward the far corridor—toward the place he was hiding like the coward he is.
I didn’t hear her footsteps until she was behind me.
“Noah—wait.”
I turned, and there she was, still pale, eyes red-rimmed from crying, but standing tall in that tattered gown. She looked like a storm that had survived the sea.
“You don’t have to do this alone.”
“Yes, I do.” I stepped toward her. “Because if I don’t finish this—if I let him walk—then what he did to you, what he tried to turn you into, will never be over.”
“Noah, please—”
“He hurt you, Liz,” I snapped, the words like shards of glass in my mouth. “You have no idea what it did to me to see you like that. I thought—” My voice cracked. I swallowed it down. “I thought I’d lost you.”
Her eyes softened, and she stepped closer.
“I’m coming with you.”
“No,” I said instantly. “You’ve been through enough.”
“Noah.” Her tone darkened. “He’s my father. I’m not letting you go in there alone.”
I opened my mouth to argue again—
But before I could, she reached down and pulled the pistol off the holster on my thigh.
“Liz—” I started, exasperated.
She raised an eyebrow. “You were saying?”
I rolled my eyes, growling under my breath. “Stubborn as hell.”
“Yeah,” she said, checking the safety. “You love that about me.”
And damn it, she was right.
I should’ve told her no. Should’ve made her stay in the damn room.
But instead, I nodded and said the only thing I could:
“Stay close.”
As we stalked down the corridor, shoulder to shoulder, adrenaline humming in our veins, I caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye — fierce, determined, fearless.
And all I could think was:
God help anyone who tries to take her from me again.
Because I loved her.
Fully.
Madly.
Without condition.
And I was going to make sure the man who broke her paid for every second of it.
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We moved like a storm through the halls — quiet, fast, lethal.
Every shadow was a threat, every corner a trap. But I didn’t care. I had her at my side. And nothing in this godforsaken facility was going to keep me from putting a bullet in the bastard that made her bleed.
Liz didn’t flinch once. Not when we cleared two rooms of guards. Not when she knelt beside me to reload. Not even when blood from someone else splattered her dress and smeared across her bruised arms. She was rage and grace in one, and watching her made my chest ache.
Then we turned the last corner.
And there he was.
Her father.
Still dressed in that sleek black suit, still smug like he hadn’t turned his daughter into a weapon and then discarded her like broken machinery. His hands were up, but his mouth already moving.
“Well,” he said, with a slow, sick smile. “If it isn’t my little creation… and the boy who made her weak.”
I didn’t even hesitate. “Say another word and I swear—”
But Liz stepped forward, gun steady in her hand, and her voice cut.
“I’m not weak,” she said, each word laced with fire. “I’ve never been stronger. You trained my body. He saved my soul.”
That shut him up — for a moment.
But we didn’t get time to gloat.
The alarms flared again. Footsteps thundered behind us. One second we were facing him, the next, surrounded.
At least a dozen.
No time to think.
“Back to back,” I said, and Liz didn’t even nod. She just moved.
And then the fire rained down.
Bullets lit up the air. My gun roared in my hands, and Liz moved like a blade beside me — elegant, ruthless. We didn’t speak. We didn’t need to.
Bodies dropped. Smoke burned our lungs.
And then—
Silence.
We turned back toward her father, both panting, sweat and blood soaking us.
But he was still standing.
Still smiling.
“You’ll never be anything but what I made you, Elizabeth,” he sneered. “You’re a failure.”
Then he raised the pistol I hadn’t seen him draw—
And fired.
The shot echoed.
Liz gasped.
“No—LIZ!”
I caught her as she crumpled, her body folding into mine like a dying star.
Her father was laughing—until I raised my gun and put a bullet straight through his heart.
He fell.
But I didn’t even watch.
My hands were already pressing against her side. Blood bloomed beneath my fingers.
“No, no, no, no, no—Liz, stay with me,” I begged, voice cracking, panic crawling up my throat. “Please—just look at me—God, please.”
Her eyes fluttered. She reached up with a trembling hand and brushed her fingers against my jaw.
“I… I love you,” she whispered, a faint smile forming.
I gathered her in my arms, pressing my forehead to hers.
“I’ve got you,” I whispered. “You’re not leaving me. Not now. Not after everything. You’re gonna be okay. You have to be okay.”
Because I wasn’t just in love with her.
She was my heart.
My war.
My salvation.
And I’d never let her go.