Page 41

T he silence shattered like glass. The gunshot ripped through the stillness, sharp and violent.

Alex’s heart seized, but his instincts moved faster.

Before the last echoes faded beneath the heavy veil of night, he pulled Sera into his arms, his palm cupping the back of her head, cradling her against his chest. Whatever anger still lingered between them dissolved in an instant.

Someone had fired a shot.

But the moment the thought landed, he knew the truth.

It had been aimed at them.

All around them, people cried out in alarm, scattering.

“Stay low,” he whispered urgently, his breath barely stirring the strands of her hair.

He scanned the dark expanse of the gardens, his sharp eyes picking out the vague outlines of shadowy hedgerows and empty paths.

No one in sight posed a threat. But whoever had fired the shot was out there, watching.

Probably reloading.

Sera’s breath came quickly against his collarbone, and her hands clenched the fabric of his coat.

For all her bold wit, she trembled. Guilt twisted low in his gut—she should never have been here, unguarded, and he blamed himself bitterly for leaving her in danger.

But this wasn’t the moment for regret. He shouldn’t have let them linger here.

“We can’t make ourselves a still target,” he said, his voice steady and low, the calm authority of his naval years cutting through both doubt and fear. “Let’s go. Stay close to me.”

She nodded against him, her chin digging slightly into his chest before she lifted her gaze. Her wide green eyes, filled with unspoken questions, met his for one suspended, fleeting second. Then she nodded again, more resolute this time.

“What is happening?” she asked worriedly.

He didn’t want to scare her more. “I don’t know.

Let’s first get out of here.” Alex tightened his grip on her hand.

His chest tightened. He didn’t know London as well as she did.

“Where can we run, Sera?” he asked, his voice urgent but measured.

“There’s no clear ground—it’s all hedges, trees, and traps. We’re sitting ducks here.”

On a ship, I can navigate by the stars.

But London’s a maze.

Her breaths came faster. She squeezed his arm as though anchoring herself. “Vauxhall Bridge,” she said finally, her words hurried but confident. “To the south bank, across the river.”

“South bank,” Alex repeated, his eyes narrowing as the words tried to fit into a map of a city he did not yet know.

The sharp spike of helplessness clawed at him—he’d navigated half the Mediterranean, even around the Greek Isles, but in London, he was adrift.

His jaw tightened, and he caught her gaze again. “Lead the way.”

Her fingers twitched in his as though she barely trusted his reliance, but there wasn’t time for doubt. She gave a quick nod and took off, pulling him with her. Alex followed without hesitation, his longer stride quickly aligning with her swift pace as they broke into a run.

The night seemed darker now, shadows stretching long fingers to ensnare their hurried steps.

Every crack of a twig beneath their boots sent shivers down Alex’s spine, though he fought to maintain his focus.

Behind them, faint but unmistakable, came the muffled pound of footsteps matching their rush.

“They’re following,” he growled under his breath, cursing when she tensed beside him.

Sera glanced back before Alex tugged on her arm, urging her forward. “So, you do know what’s going on?”

“I’ll explain later. Keep going. Don’t look behind you.”

“Alex!”

“I’m here. I won’t leave you.” Never.

Their footsteps—hers lighter, his heavier—echoed in scattered bursts, weaving through paths barely lit by slivers of moonlight. At last, those chasing steps seemed to fade away. Alex pushed them forward still, not trusting the eerie silence that followed.

When they finally emerged onto the riverbank, the vast water shimmering faintly under the night sky, Alex stopped them short. The land opened wide here, far too exposed. At this time of night, the city was eerily quiet. Danger seemed to prickle in the air. He cursed under his breath.

“This is open space,” he muttered grimly. “Too dangerous.”

Sera turned, her cheeks flushed from the run, her chest rising and falling heavily. “What now?”

His eyes darted to the water. The sight of a small, roughly moored sailboat caught his attention like a beacon. He didn’t hesitate. “The boat,” he said, pulling her toward it.

Sera stiffened, resisting the pull. “A boat? No, Alex—”

“Trust me,” Alex said sharply, looking down into her terrified face and tugged at her hand. The urgency in his voice cracked like a whip against her hesitation. “I need you to trust me, Sera. Do you? Please!”

Something flickered in her gaze, equal parts fear and something softer, something reluctant but yielding. She froze.

The sound of footsteps crushed the moment. A second shot rang out, jolting through the night. Birds startled from nearby trees in a flurry of wings and panicked cries.

“Sera!” His tone cut through the chaos, desperate but firm. He reached for her waist and clasped it tightly. “You know who I am, who I truly am. I will protect you with my life. Forever.” Then he jumped onto the boat and reached his hand out. “I’ll catch you!”

Her eyes fixed on his, her breaths shallow and quick, but the doubt finally melted from her face. She gripped his hand, stepped onto the edge of the rocking boat, and allowed him to lift her in.

Alex crouched low, untying the moor with one hand while keeping her steady with the other. The boat swayed slightly as he pushed them free, the dark water lapping against its sides as they drifted into the unknown.

Alex crouched low, fumbling with the knotted moor as Sera’s breath rasped beside him, shallow and quick.

The river’s surface shimmered like black glass under the moonlight, but its tranquility only tightened the knot in his chest. Every splash of water against the boat’s sides felt deafening, a beacon ready to betray them.

Somewhere behind, the footsteps had ceased, but he wasn’t foolish enough to believe they were alone for long.

“Hurry,” Sera whispered, her voice strained to a threadbare edge. She clutched the edge of the boat, her gaze darting to the shadows on the bank. The rustle of leaves felt too loud, too close.

“I know,” he muttered, teeth gritted against the stubborn rope.

It was coarse in his hands, damp and unyielding, as if conspiring to keep them tied down.

His fingers trembled, slick from sweat, and with each failed tug, his heartbeat grew louder, thundering in his ears.

“It’s this or swim—ah!” Finally, the knot slipped free.

The boat rocked violently as it began to drift. A surge of relief broke through him before the rope, forgotten in his haste, went taut. The boat jerked back, its lurch nearly throwing them sideways. Sera stifled a gasp, gripping the edge harder as her wide eyes snapped to his.

“ Draci !” Alex clutched at the hull, barely saving himself from toppling overboard. Fingers scrambling, he snatched at the rope, hissing under his breath. Behind them, shouts erupted, echoing over the water.

“Alex,” Sera choked, panic slicing through her whisper. The voices were closing in now, boots striking dirt, urgency breathing down their necks. Torches flared in the distance, their light chasing shadows across the reeds.

“Oh, brilliant,” Alex muttered. “Nothing like an audience for one’s blunders.” He wrestled with the rope, its fibers burning against his palms, refusing to yield. “Remind me to write a treatise on the art of theatrics during a daring escape.”

“Perhaps less muttering and more escaping?” Sera snapped, her knuckles white against the wood.

A sharp crack echoed, a warning shot splintering the stillness. It pierced the air before hissing into the river just yards away. Alex’s breath stopped. He yanked the rope with one final, desperate pull. It didn’t give.

“There! I found them!” A voice from the distance—but it wasn’t far enough.

*

Sera’s instincts screamed at her to turn, to see where the shots had come from.

Her heart pounded, her breaths shallow as she glanced over her shoulder.

But before she could catch a glimpse, the flutter of startled birds exploded in the quiet, their wings carving sharp crescents into the dim light of the moon.

The sound jolted through her like the rocking of the boat.

A shot had been fired somewhere behind her.

Alex’s touch was firm and sudden. His hand pressed against her shoulder, forcing her down with an urgency that brooked no argument. The coarse, musty fabric of an old blanket enveloped her as he tucked it over her head with a sharp whisper.

“Stay hidden, Sera.”

As if safety were an option.

“What is going on here, Alex?”

“Shh, I promise I will tell you later.”

On all fours, with the wooden boat swaying beneath her, she gasped at the warmth of the night seeping through the planks from where Alex’s body had settled moments ago.

But then her hand brushed against something cold and slick against the wood—a sensation that sent a shiver racing up her spine.

Was this… Her fingers instinctively tightened around the object as her stomach churned beneath the blanket.

A fish knife of sorts.

She could feel the rust covering the blade.

It might be small, but it was still a weapon.

Still deadly. Still something she could use for protection.

Her heartbeat settled a bit. Just a bit.

It still pounded far too loudly in her ear.

But not enough to drown out all the noise.

From the shore, she heard voices—low and harsh—carried across the tide.

They weren’t speaking English—of that much, she was certain.

The syllables rolled in guttural tones that made her hair stand on end.

“ Nichtsnutz !” Good-for-nothing.

“ Hier sind beide wie auf einem Pr?sentierteller!” Here they both are, served up on a silver platter! Another voice that seemed somewhat familiar.

“ Draci! ” Alex cursed under his breath.

His movements shifted against the shallow hull of the boat, the tension of those motions rolling off his body and prickled at her like a palpable force.

She imagined his sharp profile, his serious expression, and pride as he protected her from their unseen adversaries.

But there was a tightness to his voice, a measured control that told her he was being cornered.

The tether.

The knife burned cold in her grip like a promise. “Alex,” she whispered his name under her breath, a prayer carried to the heavens, before she moved.

With one sharp motion, she pushed herself out from under the blanket.

The outside air hit her, charging her senses, feeding the pulse pounding through her blood. She didn’t look to Alex—didn’t look at the faces beyond him that she was too terrified to see.

Instead, her whole body lunged toward the line.

The coarse rope stretched taut beside the boat, an anchor dragging them backward into danger prevented them from leaving the dock. Her chest swelled with determination, her fingers shaking but sure as she brought the knife to it.

They would leave, or they would die.