~Azaria~
The sharp slap of bare feet on tile echoed down the endless corridor, each step a frantic heartbeat reverberating off the cold stone walls. Shouts erupted behind me—distant at first, then rising like a wave—but I didn't dare look back. My lungs burned, my chest tightened, and every breath scraped like sandpaper against my throat. All I could do was focus on running—just run—before my trembling legs gave out beneath me.
I crashed through the balcony doors, the sudden rush of open air hitting me like freedom itself. My pulse roared in my ears as I stumbled forward, gripping the iron railing for balance.
I couldn't fly.Not here. Not now.No one could know what I was.
If they saw me take wing, it would all be over.
The night wind swept across my face, cool and wild, carrying the scent of pine and rain-soaked earth. It had been over a year since I'd felt it—truly felt it—without the sterile sting of captivity around me. Below, the forest stretched endlessly, dark and tangled, a sea of shadows swaying in the moonlight. I could vanish into it. But one wrong move, one glimpse of what hid beneath my human shell, and I'd have a bullet through my spine before I even touched the ground.
My white dress—plain, knee-length, and too fragile for escape—whipped around my legs in the wind. The platinum necklace my mother gave me gleamed faintly in the moonlight, the last relic of a life stolen from me long ago. I reached up and pressed it to my chest, letting its cold metal steady my shaking hands.
"If I survive this," I whispered, "then maybe it was meant to be."
The voices behind me grew louder—closer.I glanced down again, scanning for a soft landing spot among the dense canopy below. There wasn't one. Just jagged branches and the promise of pain. But staying wasn't an option. If they caught me now, I'd never see the sky again.
I drew in one last breath, long and deliberate, forcing my body to still.
Then I swung my legs over the railing, balanced on the edge for a heartbeat—and jumped.
The wind howled past my ears as I plummeted, the trees rising to meet me like an oncoming tide.
~Nathan~
I stared at the security footage on my phone, jaw tight, stomach churning with disbelief. The feed replayed in a cruel loop—her sprinting through the hallways, slipping past the guards, disappearing into the dark. My fingers tightened around the phone until the glass groaned beneath the pressure.
Then it cracked.
"No... no, no, no!"
A strangled roar tore from my throat as I hurled the device across the room. It struck the wall and exploded into a rain of shattered glass and metal.
"Was that really necessary, Mr. Black?"
The voice was calm. Measured.I turned to see Jasper standing by my desk, unflinching, his expression carved from marble. He looked immaculate, as always—tall, composed, every strand of his black hair perfectly in place. Not even my rage could muss him.
"How did this happen?" I snarled, slamming a fist against the desk. "I want every member of staff interrogated and punished. Do you have any idea* what she's worth?*"
"Of course, sir." Jasper's tone didn't waver. He adjusted his cuffs, unbothered by my outburst. "But I'd advise some restraint. Devices and subordinates alike are costly to replace."
From his coat pocket, he withdrew another phone—identical to the one I'd destroyed—and handed it to me as if offering communion.
"Fortunately, I anticipated your... temperament," he said dryly. "But please, try not to break this one too soon. My resources are not infinite."
My anger simmered, cooling into something darker, more deliberate. I accepted the phone with a slow breath and rubbed a hand down my face.
"Thank you, Jasper. You might be the only competent person left in this place."
He gave a subtle, knowing smile.
I leaned back in my chair, the leather creaking beneath me. "I can't leave this to anyone else," I muttered. "If they find out how valuable she is, they'll steal the credit—and everything I've worked for. No. This time, I'll go after her myself."
Jasper inclined his head slightly. "Shall I initiate standard escapee protocols?"
"Yes," I said. "But make me an excuse to leave within twenty-four hours. I'll handle the retrieval personally."
"As you wish, Mr. Black." He bowed his head faintly, then turned to leave, closing the office door with his usual quiet precision.
When the silence settled, I reached across my desk and picked up the photograph that had haunted me for months. Her face smiled back at me—innocent, unaware of what she truly was.
My thumb brushed over her image, tracing the curve of her jaw, the light in her eyes.
"You can run," I whispered, "but you can't escape me, my little angel."