Rain hissed on hot metal and blood. The clearing was chaos, trees splintered by bullets, the air thick with the taste of smoke. Adrian pulled Elena toward the tree line, his voice a harsh whisper over the storm.
"Run. Don't stop."
She didn't. She matched his stride, boots sinking in mud, the two of them moving like one heartbeat. Behind them, the syndicate soldiers shouted, flashlights carving frantic arcs through the rain. Every crack of gunfire pushed them harder.
They crashed through undergrowth until the forest opened into a steep ravine. Below, a river raged, wide, black, merciless.
Elena stared down, breath ragged. "We'll never make it."
Adrian's eyes met hers, fierce and certain. "We don't have a choice."
He took her face in both hands, his palms rough, warm even through the chill. "Trust me?"
She nodded before the fear could speak. "Always."
Then they jumped.
For an instant they were weightless, caught between storm and sky. Then the river slammed into them, cold and alive, stealing breath and thought. Adrian's arm locked around her waist as they were dragged downstream, spun, swallowed by the current.
They fought the pull together, gasping, clinging, every surge of the water a new trial. Finally Adrian caught a jagged rock and hauled them into a narrow hollow under an overhang. They collapsed there, half-submerged, shivering, gasping, alive.
Elena turned toward him, her hair plastered to her face, eyes wide and bright. "You really don't know when to quit," she whispered, laughing through the tremor of tears.
Adrian brushed a strand from her cheek, his thumb lingering on her skin. "If I'd quit, I'd have lost you."
The world outside was all thunder and flood, but in that small pocket of safety time slowed. Their bodies were close, every breath mingling in the darkness. Gratitude and something deeper moved between them, an unspoken promise forged in fire and rain.
Elena leaned her forehead against his. "We made it."
"For now," he said softly. "But we keep moving before dawn."
She smiled, exhaustion softening her voice. "Together?"
"Always."
He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, nothing urgent, only a quiet vow. The storm's echo wrapped around them, but inside the hollow there was warmth: the pulse of survival, the steady rhythm of two hearts still beating for each other.
(The Reckoning).
The fire had almost died, leaving only the smell of wet ash and metal.
In the remains of the clearing, the syndicate's strike commander paced between the bodies. His black coat was torn at the shoulder, a thin line of blood trailing down his wrist.
"Two escaped," a subordinate reported, voice trembling. "We found no trace beyond the ravine."
The commander knelt beside the prints that vanished into the mud, his gloved fingers brushing the ground. "No trace," he echoed softly. "That means they're alive."
He rose and turned to the man standing a few feet away, the one who hadn't spoken through the entire debriefing. The lieutenant who used to serve under Selene.
"You told me Thorn would return to the safehouse," the commander said. "You were right. So tell me again, how well do you know him?"
The lieutenant's face was unreadable. "Well enough to know he never quits. And that the woman will be his undoing."
The commander's eyes glinted. "Then we use her. Track every contact she's ever had, every digital echo. I want them found before sunrise."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice until it was almost intimate. "If you bring them to me alive, your place in the new order is guaranteed. Fail…" His smile was small and cold. "…and I'll let Selene collect the debt herself."
The lieutenant gave a shallow bow, hiding the flicker of doubt in his eyes. "Understood."
When the commander was gone, he stayed by the dying fire. The rain had started again, soft at first, then harder, erasing tracks, washing blood into the earth. He watched the flames fade and whispered to the darkness:
"You have no idea what you're walking into, Thorn."
A distant radio crackled, orders, coordinates, the sound of the hunt reigniting. The forest would not rest.