She wasn't sure if minutes or hours passed before she regained consciousness. But this time she wasn't in a hospital bed. She was on the floor.
Cold marble.
Pain everywhere.
A chandelier glittered above her like broken starlight. She groaned, pushing herself upright.
"What… happened?"
Gunfire ripped through the air.
Elara flinched as bullets struck the wall inches from her face.
She staggered behind a column just as a tall man in a tailored black suit sprinted past, returning fire with brutal accuracy.
His hair was dark, slicked back in a style too expensive to be accidental. His jaw was sharp enough to cut diamonds. His eyes—when they flicked toward her—were like winter storms brewing.
She knew that face.
Everyone did.
Damon Blackthorn. Billionaire. Scandal magnet. Headlines material.
Her Linked Target.
He kept shooting until the attackers retreated, cursing as footsteps faded.
Elara pressed her palm to her chest. The pain had eased—but not disappeared. They really were connected.
He walked toward her, each step precise and commanding.
"You're not one of them," he said, voice low, dangerous.
Elara swallowed. "One of who?"
"Assassins."
He crouched slightly, studying her as though trying to decide if she was worth saving. Or worth killing.
Her brain scrambled to catch up.
"I—I was in a hospital—"
"And now you're here." His gaze darkened. "When you appeared beside me, I almost got shot because of the shock. Care to explain that?"
"I can't," she snapped. "I don't even know what this is!"
Her voice cracked with panic.
Warning: Target's stress rising
Shared emotional feedback imminent
Suddenly, Damon winced—like her fear was stabbing into him.
He grabbed her wrist. Electricity shot up her arm—not literal, but sharp awareness.
"Who are you?"
His tone shifted into something more dangerous.
"Why do I feel your pain?"
She choked out, "Because I'm… bonded to you."
His eyes narrowed. "Bonded?"
"I know how it sounds, okay?" she barked, panic bubbling. "Some… weird system thing—"
The pain spiked again—both of them feeling it.
They gasped in perfect sync.
Gunfire resumed. Damon cursed and yanked her to her feet. "Move!"
He dragged her toward a hidden door behind a statue. They dove inside just as bullets shredded marble where they'd stood.
Elara's heart thundered. "Who are they? Why are they trying to kill you?"
Damon didn't look back.
"They want my bloodline erased."
He slammed the door shut behind them.
System Alert: Host must remain within 20 meters of Linked Target
Distance Penalty: Fatal
Elara's stomach dropped.
She couldn't leave him.
Couldn't escape.
Couldn't survive without him.
Her nightmare had only just begun.
