Zara's POV.
The smell of burning metal clung to the air, thick and choking, as the night around us screamed with fire. The convoy was a graveyard now—bullet holes peppering steel, bodies sprawled like broken dolls, the desert wind carrying the last echoes of gunfire.
My ears rang, my ribs ached, and yet my eyes locked on him. Leo. He was on one knee, chest heaving, his shirt shredded and stained red at the side. But his hands? Steady. His gun? Still raised. His eyes? Still sharp, searching the shadows. It was infuriating. It was intoxicating.
"Get up," I snapped, grabbing his arm. "We're not done yet."
His mouth curved, blood glinting at the corner of his lips. "Neither are they."
As if on cue, another wave came—shadows peeling out from the flames. Masked mercenaries, their rifles flashing under the firelight.
I raised my gun. "Together?"
He gave me that maddening smile, the one that had ruined my sleep and twisted my loyalties. "Always."
And then we moved. I was smoke, he was fire. My bullets sliced through the dark, precise, merciless. His strikes were brutal, raw, every shot a declaration of defiance. Side by side we painted the sand red. I hated how easily we fell into rhythm. Like our bodies remembered what my mind tried to forget—that once, we had been unstoppable.
By the time the last merc hit the dirt, my arms shook, my lungs burned, and my heart… my heart wouldn't stop racing.
"Are you alive?" he asked, eyes darting over me like he'd memorized every part of me that could bleed.
I scowled. "Barely."
But before I could step away, his hand caught my wrist. His grip was rough, desperate. And for a second—the world went quiet. Then a low laugh cut through the silence. I froze.
From the wreckage, stepping over bodies like she owned them, came Aria. Her heels clicked against the scorched asphalt, her white coat untouched by blood or fire. Her smile was sharp enough to slit throats.
"Beautiful work," she purred. "I almost regret having to kill you both."
Leo's jaw clenched. Mine did too.
Aria tilted her head, eyes glinting. "But then again, Zara… you've always been too dangerous to keep alive. And Leo…" She smirked at him. "You've always been too easy to break."
I felt his grip tighten on me, like he knew what she was doing. Like he knew the cracks in both of us, the truths I hadn't dared ask.
My voice was steady, even as my heart threatened mutiny. "You'll have to do better than words, Aria."
Her smile widened. "Oh, I intend to."
Behind her, more mercs emerged—this time with heavier weapons. RPGs. Snipers. Leo cursed under his breath. And I knew then—tonight wasn't about survival. Tonight was about war.
<<<<<
Leo's POV.
The firelight made her look untouchable. Not Zara. Aria. She was exactly what she wanted us to see—a ghost in silk, the mastermind behind the curtain, the snake that slithered into your chest and made a home out of your heart before ripping it apart.
But it wasn't her that haunted me. It was the way Zara stood, shoulders squared, gun raised, eyes burning. She didn't flinch at the army in front of us. She didn't break under Aria's venom. She was—God help me—unbreakable.
And I knew then, if anyone was getting out of this alive, it wouldn't be me. It would be her.
I leaned close, my lips brushing the shell of her ear, low enough only she could hear. "When I say run… you run."
She shot me a glare sharp enough to kill. "Don't you dare—"
But I didn't let her finish. I raised my gun, and fired the first shot. The desert erupted in chaos.