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Wolfe backs toward the helicopter, yanking me along with him, his arm crushing my windpipe. I can barely breathe, and each gasp is a struggle. My fingers curl tighter around the letter opener, the sharp edge biting into my palm.
“Stay back!” Wolfe screams into the wind, his voice cracking. “I’ll kill her! I swear I’ll?—”.
Through the smoke, shapes emerge. Shadow warriors made flesh, moving like death incarnate.
And at their head, drenched in blood and battle, stands Blaze.
His face is shadowed beneath the tactical HUD, but even through the darkened visor, I feel the weight of his gaze—a visceral, unyielding promise cutting through the chaos like a blade. It burns, bright as fire, and as fierce as the storm around us.
Time slows.
Wolfe’s world is ending. He just doesn’t know it yet.
Three …
His grip on my throat loosens just slightly, his focus shifting to the advancing team.
Two …
I take a breath, drawing in as much air as I can, feeling my lungs expand painfully. I shift my weight, my body moving on instinct.
One …
With every ounce of strength I possess, I twist in Wolfe’s grasp, jerking to the side. The letter opener flashes in my hand, and I plunge it into his side, the blade sinking deep between his ribs.
He screams, a sound of pure shock and agony. His grip slackens, his arm falling away from my throat.
I pull the blade out and drive it in again, this time aiming higher. His eyes go wide, disbelief etched across his features as he stumbles back, his hand going to the wound, blood spilling between his fingers.
“You…” he gasps, his voice barely a whisper, the words lost in the helicopter’s roar above us.
“I was never yours,” I say, my voice steady, fierce. “Never.”
I take a step back, my chest heaving, the letter opener slick with his blood. Wolfe stumbles, his knees giving way. He crumples to the ground, his eyes still wide, staring up at me as the life drains from them.
The helicopter hovers above, its blades whipping the air into a frenzy. I take another step back, feeling the weight of everything crash down on me—fear, adrenaline, relief.
Blaze reaches me, his hands closing around my arms, pulling me away from Wolfe’s lifeless form.
His head tilts ever so slightly, the dark visor fixed on me as if he can see straight into my soul. “Ember,” he breathes, his voice rough, threaded with raw emotion—concern and barely restrained fury intertwined.
I nod, the adrenaline ebbing, leaving only exhaustion in its wake. “I’m okay,” I manage, my voice cracking. “I had to… I couldn’t let him…”
Blaze pulls me into his chest, his arms wrapping around me, holding me tight. “I know,” he whispers into my hair. “It’s over. You did it. You ended it.”
Behind us, the Rufis circle Wolfe’s body, their red targeting lasers dimming. The helicopter ascends, realizing there’s no extraction left for their employer.
Wolfe is gone.
His empire is ash.
And I’m free.
Together, we turn away from the roof’s edge.
Blaze’s team fans out across the roof. Jenny barks orders, her voice carrying over the dying chaos. Mac and Brett sweep the perimeter, their movements precise despite exhaustion.
“Clear,” Mac calls out, blood still seeping from his wounds.