Page 72 of Forbidden Empire

Aidon’s broad shoulders slid in front of me, blocking the shot. I cursed under my breath.

Rhea staggered back, blood dripping. Her laughter echoed off the concrete as she slipped away.

“Enjoy your prize while you can, Aidon,” she called out. “We both know this isn’t over.”

Her words bounced off the concrete, sharp and ringing. I slid past Aidon, gun steady, tracking her every move as she darted for the exit.

Rhea’s hand disappeared into her pocket. Something small and black flashed under the ugly fluorescent lights. Her thumb slammed down.

And then everything blew apart. It was like getting punched in the face by the sun; heat roared over my skin, concrete rained down, and I hit the ground so hard the air left my lungs. My head was buzzing, my eyes stung, and smoke filled the space where Rhea had been.

Strong arms caught me, crushing me tight against a solid chest.

“Jesus, Esme.” Aidon’s voice was thick, barely making it through the ringing in my ears.

I reached for him, fingers coming back red and wet.

“You’re bleeding,” I said, trying to see how bad it was.

He gripped me tighter, his heart beating wild against my cheek. “Doesn’t matter.” He sounded wrecked. “Tell me you’re okay.”

“It’ll take more than this to knock me down,” I managed, even though my face was throbbing.

His jaw was set. “She’s dead. Next time I see her, she’s fucking dead.” He hauled me upright. “Ares and the rest are waiting. We’ve gotta move.”

“Move where?” I blurted without thinking.

Something flickered across his face, quick and hard. “Where else? I’m taking you home.”

His hand clamped over mine, dragging me forward, straight into hell. Where were we headed?

No matter. All that mattered was not dying.

The walls moved, alive with fire, flames crawling up and spitting embers like dying stars. Smoke clawed at my throat with every breath.

I coughed, yanked my sleeve up, and tried to keep breathing. Gunfire didn’t stop. It hammered, constant, growing louder with each step as we tore through the burning house.

Aidon stopped and backed against the wall with a slam. The click and slide as he reloaded echoed between shots.

“Ares is pinned with my crew,” he said, eyes burning orange in the firelight. “We go in hot.”

I checked my gun. It felt heavy. Real. The only thing that was.

“Behind you,” I said. “I’m ready.”

Aidon snarled and lunged, leaving a messy trail of blood on the floor and up the wall. I wanted to stop him, or at least slow him down, but it was pointless. He wasn’t going to listen, and honestly, I’d die before letting anything happen to him. For now, we just had to keep moving.

We rounded the corner, guns raised and firing.

Ares and his men were completely outnumbered, doing a shit job of holding their ground. We came just in time and, from behind, picked off most of Rhea’s crew.

The only thing that mattered was getting out of there. So we booked it for the exit, shooting as we ran, lighting up the perfect target for the last few guys left.

They emptied their magazines, bullets screaming past us and pinging off the walls as we sprinted for safety.

The zing of pain as a bullet ripped open my side almost dropped me. My hand flew to my ribs, and I hissed, fighting the urge to stop.

Blood oozed out, hot and sticky, but I didn’t slow down. I just clenched my fists and kept running, sweat popping on my forehead.