Page 17

KAIA

H e doesn’t kill me.

He should’ve. He wanted to—I could see it in the way his hands shook, in the way his lips curled like he hated himself for stopping. But he didn’t.

Instead, he leans in close, voice low and rough like gravel dragged across skin. “Next time,” he says, “I won’t.”

Suddenly, he’s just fucking gone. Smoke and shadow and rage, melted into the dark like he never existed at all.

I’m standing there, breath shallow, fists clenched, and I can’t even scream. Not from fear. From frustration.

“Wait!” I call out, stupidly, voice sharp, desperate. “Wait!”

But he doesn’t.

And why the hell would he?

The other agents are dead. The ground’s soaked in blood. The air reeks of burnt flesh and ozone and something older—feral, supernatural. I can’t feel anything past the ringing in my ears and the weight on my chest.

Gods.

What the hell just happened?

I drop to my knees next to Brooks’ body. His face is frozen in something between horror and confusion. He never even had a chance to react. I swallow hard, pushing the bile down. He was an asshole. A cruel one. But still—he didn’t deserve this .

And I didn’t stop it.

Then I think about the hybrid they were torturing. How I did nothing then either, but it felt more wrong than this…

My hands start shaking, and this time I don’t stop them.

How the fuck am I supposed to explain this?

Oh hey, Commander. Sorry we lost a handful of men. Elias Vorn dropped in, murdered them, and then decided to spare your daughter for shits and giggles. Cool, right?

They’ll ask how I survived. Why I didn’t kill him. Why he didn’t kill me . And if I lie, they’ll smell it. My father will see it in my damn eyes. He always does.

But if I tell the truth? Elias is already on the Order’s Omega Threat list. They’ll hunt him harder. Put trackers on me. I’ll be on lockdown—no fieldwork, no questions, no freedom. Just monitored and “evaluated” for trauma.

That’s the Order’s way of saying: We’ll decide if you’re still useful.

And I can’t let that happen. Because I need to find him.

He knows something. Something about me. About the visions. The fucking dreams that won’t stop. He’s tied to this—whether he wants to be or not.

And if there’s one thing I know for damn sure, it’s this:

I don’t trust anyone else to give me answers.

Not my mother.

Especially not my father.

I stand, wiping blood off my palms onto my pants. My jaw clenches tight, and my voice shakes when I finally speak.

“Shit,” I whisper to the bodies. “I’m sorry.”

Then I hit my comm.

“HQ, this is Draven. Agent team compromised. Hybrid ambush. I’m the only one left.”

A pause. Then static.

“Copy that, Agent. We’re dispatching recovery and containment teams. ETA twelve minutes.”

“Understood,” I say. “I’ll secure the area.”

I don’t say who ambushed us. I don’t say it was one man. I don’t say his name.

Not yet.

Because I don’t know what’s true anymore.

And I’m not going to hand over someone who might be the only damn person who can help me figure it out.

I slide my blade back into its sheath and glance at the horizon.

Wherever the hell you are, Elias Vorn, I’m going to find you.

And this time, you’re going to talk.