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My pulse roars in my ears, adrenaline rushing in my veins. Too-bright light glares down as I grab the door. I move to slam it shut behind me, to lock Orpheus inside.

I almost make it.

The door is nearly shut when Orpheus’s hand shoots through the gap, fingers clamping around the edge. His impossible strength wrenches the door open, and I stumble at the force of it. I never stood a chance.

He says he won’t hurt me. But my instincts kick in, and I spin on my heel. I try to run.

But before I can take more than one step, Orpheus’s arm snakes around my middle and jerks me backward, slamming me hard against his chest. I scream, kicking, trying to get away.

But his strength is inhuman. And I know deep down, even as I wrestle against his hold on me, that this is it.

I’ll never leave this vault. I’ll never see Los Angeles again.

I’ll never watch the sun set over the ocean.

I’ll never stand under the rain. Just like Eros and Ian, these concrete walls and fluorescent lights will be the last thing I ever see.

“Orpheus,” I beg, a last, weak attempt. “Please let me go.”

“Stop,” he says, calm but firm. His breath ruffles my hair. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

I don’t think I believe that. I don’t know. I want to believe it. I’m desperate, dying to believe it.

I realize there’s no point in struggling. I fall still, breathing hard.

“ Kit .”

He speaks my name like a resonant spell. And as that single syllable sears me, he takes hold of my jaw from behind, forcing me to still.

I close my eyes tight, waiting for whatever comes next. Will he break my neck? Will he devour me?

My vision wavers. And it comes to me. The obvious, the glaring elephant in the room. Can I do it? Can I grasp the filamental threads of an unseen, impossible power, and stitch together an escape out of pure stubborn desperation?

I have to try.

Orpheus says something, his breath hot on my ear. But I’m not listening.

Because I’m focused on the air in front of me.

I’m remembering how it felt every time the world fell out from under me, when my body glitched and flickered in the darkness, when the mirage opened up before me.

I’m remembering the sensation, the sound, how my skin seemed to tighten, my body crushed under the pressure.

I reach out for those shadowy figures from another dimension, the needle-like buildings, the dreams I half remember, faraway places I yearn for and could never reach.

Until now. I call for them, pulling, clawing them toward me inch by inch.

Let me go .

Orpheus’s fingers tighten against my jaw.

And then—

The corridor in front of me glitches. Staticky bits of wall go black and flicker out of existence. At the very edges of my vision, I see jagged edges, shimmering against the plane of reality.

And then it all falls away: the walls, the floor, the too-bright lights. Even the muffled howl of wind and rain disappears. Everything goes silent. And all around me grows that crushing press, that horrible fall into darkness, that inevitability.

Yes .

I feel a growing, palpable certainty. I’m on my way. If I can just go a little farther, if I can just keep going…

My ears pop.

And then the pressure relents, just as quickly as it came.

I fall to my knees, and the world before me is new: Rolling hills of indigo lead to alien forests rising up beyond.

A purple blanket of trees drapes over distant foothills.

Jagged, unearthly mountains thrust miles upward to touch a black, star-swept sky.

And there, up in the velvety sky, four alien moons glow down on me like a welcome.

I inhale deeply. Thick, sweet air fills my lungs.

I’ve never smelled anything so clean, so fresh.

I can smell the wet earth, the blooming flowers, the night breeze.

This is new. This isn’t the barren, dying Earth; this isn’t anywhere in my solar system.

This is alive, this is alien, and it feels holy.

This is a new world. And I brought myself here.

I opened a fucking door, and I walked through it.

Goosebumps rise on my skin. Holy shit.

Tension and fear leave my body as I dig my fingers into the indigo grass, raking my nails through dark, damp soil.

I want to bury my face in this fresh flora.

I never want to stop breathing this air.

Imagine what I could experience here, the beauty.

Unlike Earth, life persists here. This isn’t a dying world.

It’s flourishing. A tear rolls down my cheek as I close my eyes and lean down, pressing a cheek to the grass.

I stay there for a long time, just breathing, reveling in the growing things around me. I could stay here forever. There’s nothing stopping me.

But soon enough, distant thoughts come drifting in: Thoughts of my world, left behind.

Orpheus, still in the vault. That thought alone cuts through the euphoria of this new world: Orpheus .

If I leave him there, what will he do? He’ll starve, or he’ll leave.

And if he leaves… Ian and Eros won’t be the last of his victims.

Goddamn it. I have to go back. I can’t leave him there.

“Fuck,” I murmur.

Before I change my mind, I close my eyes and exhale.

I try to recreate what I did back in the vault.

I recall the way it felt to open the door, the buzz against my skin, the glitch, the fall — and then it’s happening, and I am falling, falling until the darkness swallows me.

Only a few breaths later, and my knees slam to the concrete floor in Ian’s vault.

“Welcome back,” Orpheus says.

I get to my feet, turning to face him. Adrenaline bursts through me again, my heart pounding, my breaths coming in gasps. I stare at Orpheus, and I know I should be afraid. I should be angry. But all I can think is—

“I did it,” I breathe. I crossed a bridge to another world. Twice. For a second, I don’t even care that I’m back here in my own world, that nothing has changed.

Because I’m not just Katherine Fox, broke fringe science blogger.

I’m Katherine Fox, the girl who can open fucking doors between universes.

The realization blazes through me like a shot of the strongest liquor, every organ and cell in my body awash with the revelation.

And when all the things that seemed impossible to me — all the jobs and dreams and loves I’d convinced myself I’d probably never have — come rushing back, I gloriously realize I don’t care.

I don’t want them anymore. I want more than just jobs and loves. I want the world .

“Kit?” Orpheus says, but he makes no move to grab me again. He only stands there, watching, wary.

“Orpheus.” The air around me seems to vibrate, to crackle with energy. For the first time in my life, I feel untouchable.

Orpheus draws a hand down his face, and it’s a painfully human gesture.

“I never wanted to come here,” he says, words falling out like a dam is breaking.

“Ian pulled me through and trapped me in this body. And when he realized what I was, what I needed, he tried to send me back. But the door would not open again. I only did what I had to, to survive.”

I listen, making no move to run, no move to silence him.

And I realize, now, that I understand him — this otherworldly entity, this mind in the body of a beautiful machine.

Ian was no genius. He was a floundering idiot with more money and ambition than smarts.

A man who found a way to open a door, only to kidnap and imprison what he found on the other side.

And I see clearly that Orpheus is a victim, a prisoner here. A feral creature kept in a too-small cage until it’s driven mad with hunger and rage. Even Eros knew that it was only a matter of time before Orpheus escaped. And that when he did, he would be ravenous.

But Eros and Ian didn’t have a way out. They didn’t have what I have. They were lesser; they were food. I thought I was in danger from Orpheus, but now… now, he doesn’t frighten me at all. He’ll never hurt me. I’m too powerful, too important. And I see the truth in his eyes.

“You’re far from home,” I say, holding Orpheus’s gaze. “And you’re hungry.”

“Yes.”

“But you won’t eat me.”

“No.”

“Tell me why not.” I want to hear him say it.

There’s a moment of silence while the wind shrieks outside, muffled and far away.

“Because you have ruined me,” Orpheus says. “I’m broken beyond repair. In this infinite span of worlds, all I see is you. This body, this soul, all belong to you. If you asked me to, I’d die for you.”

I smile slowly. I relish the confession. Eat it up. It lights me up from the inside like a bolt of lightning, filling me with self-assured heat. Of course he worships me. Of course he would die for me. I can move between worlds. I’m fucking utterly rare. More powerful than anyone else on Earth.

And in his words I also hear the unspoken truth, the part he won’t say out loud: I need you .

I never needed Ian De Leon’s pathetic book.

A slow smile curves Orpheus’s mouth. Like he can see what I’m thinking, and he approves.

“Orpheus,” I say, moving toward him. “I—”

Before I can say anything more, he sweeps me into a kiss.

It’s fierce, desperate, our teeth and lips colliding.

I wrap my arms around his neck and fall easily into him.

There’s no denying the connection between us, the comfort, the feeling of intimacy and reunion.

He’s a missing puzzle piece that fell into place the moment I first saw him down here in the vault.

He showed me who I am. And in return, I’ll let him worship me for as long as he wants.

I pull away from his kiss, gripping his shirt with my fists. “Come with me.”

Because there’s nothing left for us here. Not in this penthouse. Not in Los Angeles, not on Earth. And here, there can be no future with Orpheus. But in some other world…

“Where?” he asks. But I see it in his eyes. He’ll go wherever I go. He’d follow me into Hell itself.

I lift my face to him. He’s extraordinary, even here in the harsh light, even knowing that on either side of us are bodies, bodies he destroyed. His eyes glow honey-soft. He’s the only one who’s ever seen me as something more than a struggling writer, a bottle girl, a one-night stand.

I swallow a lump in my throat.

I’m going to forget this penthouse and everything that happened here.

So I reach out to the mirage, remembering the feeling it gave me, the pull, and with a flicker, it appears — a door in the wall, a jagged shape, swirling colors and shapes drawing my gaze inward.

“Somewhere else,” I say. “Anywhere you want.”

Orpheus looks at the door, then back at me, his gaze full of wonder.

“We don’t belong here.” I kiss his jaw, just below the ear. “Come with me.”

He groans low in his throat, one hand tightening at the small of my back.

“Kit,” he murmurs. “You perfect, beautiful…”

“Say yes,” I plead.

He kisses me, slow and sweet, holding me close like I’m the most precious thing in the world. He whispers my name into my neck over and over. Like he can’t believe what I’m asking. Like he can’t believe that I’m real.

The door shimmers in my periphery, kaleidoscopic, a question and a promise.

Breathless, grinning, with the door to another universe flickering next to me, I ask, “Is that a yes?”

He pulls his mouth away, exhaling hot breath on my naked skin. Then his gaze lifts to mine. “Kit Fox.” His golden eyes crackle with emotion. “All you had to do was ask.”

“Then let’s go.”