The second man swung at me. I ducked, the punch grazing my temple, and rammed my shoulder into his chest. He grunted, staggering, but came at me again.
Behind me, Aria cried out — one of the others had circled around, grabbing her arm.
"No!" My voice tore through the storm.
I lashed out, fury fueling every strike. My knuckles split against skin, my body absorbing blows I barely felt. Every sound Aria made — every cry, every gasp — burned hotter than the rain, driving me harder.
Finally, with one desperate swing, I knocked the second man into the wall. He slumped, groaning, sliding down into unconsciousness.
spun just in time to see Aria wrench free from the grip of the third, her elbow slamming into his ribs. The sight of her fighting — terrified but unbroken — ignited something fierce inside me.
I closed the distance in seconds, ripping him away from her and shoving him into the mud. His head cracked against stone, and he went still.
Silence fell — broken only by the thunder and our ragged breathing.
Aria pressed back against the wall, trembling. Her hair clung to her cheeks, her chest rising and falling in uneven bursts. For a moment, she just stared at me, her lips parted, eyes wide.
"You…" Her voice was shaky, disbelieving "You fought them for me."
stepped closer, cupping her damp face in my hands "Of course I did."
Her eyes shimmered, glassy with tears she hadn't let fall and then, finally, she broke — her body collapsing into mine, her arms wrapping tight around me.
I held her against my chest, feeling her heart hammering in frantic rhythm. She buried her face into my shoulder, her breath hot and uneven.
"I was so sure they'd take me back," she whispered against my soaked shirt "So sure this was the end."
I tightened my grip on her, pressing my cheek to her wet hair "I won't let them.... Not while I'm breathing."
Her hands clenched at my back, clutching me as though letting go would mean vanishing. The storm around us faded into background noise — what mattered was the tremor in her body, the way her fear melted slowly against my embrace, replaced by something else.
Need.... Trust.... Desire.
After a long silence, she pulled back just enough to look up at me. Rain dripped from her lashes, her lips trembling.
"I don't understand you," she whispered "You barely know me… and yet you fight like I'm your entire world."
brushed a strand of wet hair from her cheek, my thumb lingering against her skin "Maybe that's because, from the moment I saw you, you were."
Her eyes widened, her lips parting in shock "Don't…" she started, but her voice faltered "Don't say things like that. It makes it harder to—"
"To push me away?" I finished for her.
She froze, then lowered her gaze, guilt flickering across her face.
I tilted her chin gently back up "Aria, you don't need to push me away.... Not anymore."
Her breath caught. For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. Then her fingers curled into my shirt, pulling me closer — not fully, not yet, but enough. Enough to let me feel the war inside her, the pull she couldn't resist even as fear screamed at her to.
The storm raged on, but between us, something stronger brewed — fragile but undeniable.
We didn't stop moving until the sounds of pursuit faded into the storm behind us.
The city sprawled like a drowned labyrinth, streets shimmering under the relentless rain. Every corner felt dangerous, every shadow alive with Victor's reach but Aria never let go of my hand — even when her steps faltered, even when exhaustion pulled at her frame.
Finally, we stumbled into the shell of an abandoned train station, its arched roof leaking in a dozen places. Broken benches lined the platform, rusted rails gleamed faintly in the downpour. It wasn't safe, but it was shelter.
I guided her onto a bench, crouching in front of her. She was pale, soaked, her lips trembling from more than the cold.
"Are you hurt?" I asked, scanning her quickly.
She shook her head "Just… tired.... Shaken."
Her hands, still damp, clutched her knees. I reached for them gently, wrapping mine around hers. Her fingers twitched, then slowly stilled under my touch.
"You're safe here," I said quietly.
Her eyes lifted, searching mine "For now," she whispered.
For a long moment, we sat in silence, the storm outside echoing like distant applause. Then, her voice broke the stillness.
"Victor wasn't always like this."
I leaned in, listening.
"He was… charming, once. Clever..... he made me believe he understood me better than anyone that I mattered". Her throat tightened, the words scraping out "But it was all a trap. He didn't love me — he wanted to own me. Every choice, every breath, under his control."
Her voice cracked, and she looked away, ashamed "By the time I realized what he really was, it was too late. I'd already lost pieces of myself to him."
I shifted closer, my hand moving instinctively to brush away the tear that had escaped down her cheek. She didn't flinch this time.
Aria," I said firmly, "you're not his... Not anymore. Whatever he took, whatever he tried to break — it's not gone. It's still you and you're stronger than he'll ever be."
Her gaze snapped back to mine, raw and unguarded "Why do you believe that? Why do you believe in me, when I can barely believe in myself?"
"Because I see you," I whispered "Not the girl he tried to control, not the fear he left behind. I see you.... The woman who's still fighting, even when she thinks she can't."
Her breath hitched, her chest rising sharply. She stared at me as though the words had struck deeper than any wound Victor ever left.
And then, suddenly, she leaned forward — her forehead pressing against mine.
The contact was small, fleeting, but it stole the air from my lungs. I closed my eyes, feeling her warmth seep into me despite the storm-soaked chill of our clothes.
"I don't want to need you," she whispered, her breath trembling against my lips "Because if I do… and I lose you…"
"You won't," I whispered back.
Her hand slipped against my chest, flat over my heartbeat, as though testing the truth of my words. The steady thrum under her palm seemed to steady her too.
"Stay," she said, so softly it almost wasn't a word "Please."
"I'm not going anywhere."
Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say more — or maybe do more — but she stopped herself, pulling back just enough that her eyes met mine again. They were stormy, conflicted, yet alive with something fierce.
"This… whatever this is," she said, voice breaking, "it's dangerous.... For you.... For me."
I cupped her cheek gently, tilting her face up "Then let it be dangerous because it's real."
Her lips trembled, her eyes shining with unshed tears — and for the first time, she didn't argue. She just let her head rest against my chest, letting my arms fold around her, holding her against the storm outside.
The station was cold, the storm unending, and the danger far from gone but in that fragile pocket of time, we weren't running. We weren't fighting.
We were simply together.
And though fear still lingered in Aria's heart, so did something else — something she couldn't hide anymore.
Hope.
Morning came slow and gray.
The storm had weakened sometime before dawn, leaving behind streets slick with rain and skies the color of ash. Through the broken glass of the station's windows, weak light bled in, painting Aria's face in pale strokes.
She was still curled against me, her breath warm against my chest, strands of damp hair clinging to her cheek. I hadn't slept — not fully. Every creak of the old station, every drip of water from the roof, kept me on edge.
But watching her, even in exhaustion, I felt something unfamiliar.... Something fierce.
I wasn't just protecting her anymore. I was bound to her.
Her eyes fluttered open slowly. For a moment, confusion clouded them, but then she saw me, and they softened "You didn't sleep," she murmured.
"Didn't need to," I said, brushing a stray hair from her forehead "You did."
She sat up slightly, wrapping her arms around herself as though bracing against the chill of the morning "We can't stay here."
"I know," I replied "But moving without a plan is suicide. Victor will expect us to run. We need to think about where he won't expect us to go."
Aria's lips pressed tight. Her gaze flicked to the broken rails, the city beyond "There's nowhere he won't expect, he knows me. He knows how I think."
"Then we change the way you think," I said.
She gave me a sharp look, a trace of fire sparking in her storm-dark eyes "You make it sound easy."
"Not easy," I said softly "Just necessary."