Page 88

The memory shifts and fragments. Blaze’s hand on my arm, steadying me as we ran through city streets. The intensity in his eyes as he cleaned a cut on my forehead, his touch impossibly gentle. The way he looked at me with a rare smile softening his features.
My chest tightens, a dull ache spreading beneath my ribs. Blaze stands between me and danger, his body a shield, his presence a promise of safety I’ve never known.
Wolfe’s right. I’m a liability to Blaze.
The subway station flashes before my eyes. Blaze pulling me close as the train doors closed, shutting out our pursuers. The thundering of my heart, not from the chase, but from his proximity. The unspoken tension crackling between us.
“Whatever happens,”he murmured, his lips brushing my ear,“we face it together.”
Each memory burns brighter than the last, searing away the doubt and fear.
Blaze, who risked everything for me.
Blaze, who sees beyond the street rat, the survivor, to the person underneath.
Blaze, who believes in me when I don’t believe in myself.
New feelings surge through me, fierce and unshakeable. It’s not about saving my skin anymore. It’s about protecting him the way he protects me.
I blink hard, forcing myself back to the present. Wolfe’s cold eyes bore into me, searching for weakness. But he won’t find it.
Not anymore.
Because I have something worth fighting for. Someone worth any price.
I meet Wolfe’s gaze, steel in my spine and fire in my heart. Whatever game he’s playing, whatever he throws at me next, I’ll face it.
Wolfe’s patience wears thin, his carefully cultivated veneer of civility cracking. His eyes narrow, lips pressing into a thin line, and I see the cracks in his composure—a flicker of frustration beneath that cold facade.
He nods to someone outside the door, and two burly men enter, their presence filling the small space with a suffocating menace. My muscles tense, instinct screaming to run, but there’s nowhere to go, no way out.
The air shifts, charged with impending violence. Wolfe’s gaze is locked on mine, predatory and gleaming with barely contained rage.
“Last chance,” he says, his voice a silky caress, dangerous in its softness. “Tell me what I want to know.”
I spit at his feet, my heart pounding, the taste of defiance sharp on my tongue.
“Go to hell.”
The blow comes faster than I can brace for it. Pain explodes across my cheek, white-hot and blinding. My head snaps to the side, my vision blurring with tears I refuse to shed. The coppery tang of blood floods my mouth.
Before I can catch my breath, rough hands seize my arms, jerking them behind me with brutal force. Cold metal bites into my wrists—handcuffs, tight enough to cut off circulation, the steel unforgiving against my skin.
“Now, now,” Wolfe tuts, circling me with that same predatory grace, his voice dripping with mockery. “Let’s not be hasty. We have all the time in the world.” His words promise torment, a slow, deliberate descent into hell.
A sudden deluge of ice water crashes over me, shocking the breath from my lungs. The cold is instant, vicious, and searing as my body jerks involuntarily. I gasp, my breath coming in ragged bursts, my entire body shivering violently. Wolfe circles closer, like a shark scenting blood, his eyes alight with dark satisfaction.
“Blaze’s team,” he hisses, his voice a knife edge, slicing through the fog of pain. “Their capabilities. Tell me.”
The cold gnaws at my bones, my teeth chattering as I fight to speak.
“I don’t know anything,” I grit out, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Why would I?”
A fist slams into my gut, the impact doubling me over. Stars explode behind my eyes, my knees buckling, but they don’t let me fall. Strong hands keep me upright, holding me steady for the next blow.
And the next.
And the next.