The word prize echoed in my skull long after the screens went black.
Prize. Not player.
It felt like a chain sliding around my throat, tightening with every breath.
Adrian's hand still hovered near my arm, his gun in the other, his body coiled for whatever came next. But his eyes… his eyes weren't on the door. They were on me.
And that was worse.
Because I knew what he saw: a woman unraveling.
"I'm not a prize," I whispered, my voice trembling as much as my hands.
"You're not," Adrian said instantly, firmly, like the certainty in his tone could smother the doubt clawing through me.
"Then why does he make it sound like everything leads back to me?" I snapped, spinning on him. My voice cracked, ragged with grief and fury. "Why does it feel like I've been playing his game my whole damn life without even knowing it?"
He flinched. Just slightly. Enough.
My chest constricted. "Adrian… what aren't you telling me?"
The silence between us stretched, sharp as broken glass.
Finally, he spoke, low, raw. "Because it's not just about you, Selena. It's about us."
The words knocked the breath from my lungs.
"Us?" I repeated, my laugh hollow. "Don't twist this into some tragic love story. He's not after us. He's after me."
His jaw tightened, his knuckles white around the gun. "You think this is coincidence? That he's been circling you for years and I just… happened to be the one standing in his way?"
"Isn't it?"
His eyes burned into mine. "No. Because the first time I saw him—really saw him—" His voice faltered, rough with memory. "—was the same night you disappeared."
My blood froze.
"What night?" My whisper was barely air.
Adrian's chest rose and fell, heavy, like he was dragging every word out from somewhere he'd buried deep. "The night in Boston. Ten years ago. You wouldn't remember. You went by a different name then. But I do. I remember because I was there."
Boston.
The word sliced me open. A place I'd locked away, wrapped in silence, buried under layers of new names and false smiles.
I shook my head. "No. That's not possible. You couldn't have been there."
"I was," he said, voice steady now, unflinching. "And so was he."
The room spun.
The night. The screams. The fire. My escape. My vow never to go back.
And now Adrian telling me he'd been there too.
It felt like the floor cracked beneath me, dropping me into a past I thought I'd outrun.
Before I could speak, before I could breathe, Cassandra's voice slithered through the intercom system.
"Oh, finally," she purred, her tone rich with delight. "The truth crawls its way out. Do you know what he was that night, Selena? Do you know what he did while you ran?"
I spun toward the speakers. "Shut up!"
Her laugh was a jagged blade. "He stayed. With the Shadow. He chose him. And you think he's your savior now? Sweetheart, he was his soldier first."
Adrian cursed, grabbing the receiver and ripping wires loose until the speaker went dead.
But her words lingered like poison.
I stared at him, my breath catching. "Is it true?"
"No." His denial was immediate, sharp.
But my chest tightened. "You hesitated."
"Because I didn't stay with him," Adrian growled. "I infiltrated him. I lived inside his shadow to get close enough to burn him from within."
I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to.
But Cassandra's voice still rang in my head. He stayed. He chose him.
I pressed my hands to my face, Hale's blood still staining my skin. "This is insane. I can't—"
"Selena." His hand closed gently around my wrist, pulling it away. His eyes locked on mine, raw, unguarded. "Listen to me. If I had chosen him, I'd be standing at his side right now. Not bleeding and breaking everything to keep you alive."
My throat tightened. His words were fire and ice all at once.
But trust? Trust was a fragile thing, and mine was already cracked.
Before I could respond, a boom rattled the basement walls.
The lights flickered.
Smoke seeped through the air vents.
Adrian cursed. "He's burning the house down."
We scrambled toward the stairwell, heat licking at our heels as flames chewed through the upper floors. The house groaned around us, timbers cracking, air thick with smoke.
We burst into the main hall—only to find Cassandra waiting.
Her gun aimed at Adrian. Her smile sharp as glass.
"Did you tell her, Adrian?" she crooned. "Did you tell her how he saved you that night? How you owe him?"
"Don't," Adrian snapped, his voice rough, strangled.
Cassandra's gaze flicked to me, her smile widening. "Ah. He hasn't. Perfect. Let me."
Adrian lunged, but she fired a warning shot into the ceiling, wood splintering.
"Stay back," she hissed. "Or she hears it from me."
My heart pounded. "Tell me what?"
Cassandra's eyes gleamed. "That while you were running, little prize, he wasn't fighting for you. He was begging for himself. And the Shadow let him live. Which means…" She tilted her head, grin wicked. "…your knight owes your monster."
Adrian's face twisted, fury and pain warring in his eyes.
"Lies," he spat.
But doubt coiled in my chest, venomous and cold.
Because if the Shadow had spared Adrian, if Adrian owed him—
What did that make me?
The flames roared louder, smoke choking the air. Alarms screamed.
Cassandra backed toward the door, her laugh echoing through the inferno. "See you soon, lovers. If you survive."
She vanished into the firestorm.
Adrian grabbed my hand, dragging me through the smoke, the world a blur of heat and chaos. My lungs burned, my vision blurred.
Finally, we stumbled out into the night, coughing, gasping, the mansion a blazing inferno behind us.
The Shadow was gone. Cassandra was gone. Hale was dead.
And I was left with Adrian.
Adrian, who might be my protector.
Or my undoing.
We collapsed onto the wet grass, rain starting to fall, hissing against the flames.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. Just breathing, ragged and broken.
Then I turned to him, voice raw. "Tell me it isn't true. Tell me you don't owe him."
His eyes closed, his jaw clenched. "I don't owe him. Not in the way she wants you to think."
"Then in what way?" I demanded, desperate, tears stinging my eyes.
His silence stretched.
Finally, he whispered, "Because the night he spared me… was the same night he marked you."
My breath caught.
"Marked me?"
Adrian's eyes opened, haunted. "You weren't just a victim. You weren't just collateral. You were chosen. From the start."
The ground tilted beneath me, the rain mixing with the heat of my tears.
If that was true—if I was chosen—then the Shadow hadn't just hunted me.
He'd made me.
And Adrian had known all along.