Page 142 of Mystic's Sunrise

As we moved toward the warehouse, everything else dropped away. All the noise in my head. All the fear.

Drago’s time was up, and I was the man who would stop his clock forever.

CHAPTER EIGHTY

THE DOOR WASN’Tlocked.

I stared at the handle for a long moment, heart pounding so loud it vibrated in my ears. Dragoneverforgot to lock it. Ever.

But tonight, he had.

This was a mistake. His mistake.

A breath shook out of me as I eased it open, stepping into the hallway. My legs felt weak, but I moved, bare feet gliding silent over the floor. Every second counted. Every sound mattered.

Lucy. I had to get to Lucy.

When I reached Fang’s door, I wasn’t surprised to find it locked. Of course he locked it. He wasn’t about to let her get away.

My hand trembled as I reached into my hair and pulled out the thin metal hairpin I’d tucked there. My mind going to the memory of Lucy teaching me how to pick a lock.

Keep your fingers steady,she’d said.You gotta feel for the shift, like the door’s sighing open for you.

I dropped to one knee, worked the pin into the lock. My fingers were slick with sweat, and panic clung to my spine like a second skin.

One pin. One twist.

The click was faint. Almost nothing.

But I heard it.

I opened the door and slipped inside.

Lucy was sitting on the edge of the bed, her wrists marked from where he’d grabbed her earlier. When she saw me, she jerked upright, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Zeynep?” she whispered.

I nodded, holding a finger to my lips. No sound. No hesitation.

She got to her feet without a word. We didn’t need to speak. We’d been through enough to know when it was time to run.

I motioned for her to follow, and together, we slipped into the dark hallway, moving fast, silent.

Almost there.

We turned the corner toward the back exit when a shadow stepped into our path.

My stomach dropped.

I didn’t know her name, but I’d seen her glaring at me earlier when Drago and I got back.

She blocked the exit, arms crossed, a cruel smile twisting her lips. Her eyes flicked between us, amusement gleaming behind them.

“Well, well,” she drawled, her voice thick with mockery. “Look at this. The princess and her ugly maid. Sneaking out like little rats.”

Lucy stiffened beside me. “Move, Ashlynn.”

Ashlynn tilted her head, tapping a manicured nail against her chin. “Hmm. No.”