The hidden base had never felt smaller. The tunnels, carved deep beneath the earth centuries ago, were meant to shelter witches from hunters and wars—but now, with too many bodies and too much fear, the air itself seemed to throb with tension.
Jane sat at the central table, her new arm resting stiffly against the wood. Mira leaned over a map spread across the surface, its edges curling with age. Ryn kept watch near the entrance, while Lena and Harrow stood opposite, arms crossed, eyes sharp. Levi lingered in the shadows against the far wall, black wings folded like a cloak, golden eyes gleaming.
"We can't stay here," Ryn said finally, his voice taut. "If the dragon tracks her—" he tilted his head toward Levi— "he'll burn these tunnels to ash."
Levi did not move.
"And where would you suggest we go?" Mira snapped. "We can't just keep running with no plan."
"We had a plan," Harrow growled. "Keep our heads down. Survive. But now—now we've got the last demon queen hiding under our roof. If General Shax finds her, we're all corpses."
"Enough." Jane's voice was quiet but carried, steady despite the heat in her chest. She straightened in her seat, the firelight catching on the runes etched into her arm. "We're not abandoning her."
Harrow laughed bitterly. "Listen to yourself. She's a monster, Jane. You've read the same history I have."
Jane clenched her jaw. "And I've seen her save my life. That matters more than old stories."
For a moment, the chamber filled with silence, broken only by the flicker of torches. Levi's gaze shifted toward Jane, unreadable, but there was something in her eyes—a flicker of surprise, maybe even gratitude.
Mira broke the quiet. "We move at dawn. North, into the mountains. The wards there are older, stronger. If we're careful, Shax won't sense us."
Harrow muttered something under his breath but didn't argue further. The meeting dissolved slowly after that, each member retreating to their own corner of the tunnels, carrying fear like smoke clinging to their clothes.
---
Later that night, Jane sat alone near the dying fire. Sleep wouldn't come—the dull throb of her phantom limb kept her awake, along with the weight of too many questions. She flexed her metal fingers, listening to the faint hiss of gears, the runes pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.
"You hide your pain well."
Levi's voice came from the shadows. Jane turned to see her step forward, firelight catching on her horns and the faint shimmer of her wings. She moved with quiet grace, like a predator that had no need to announce itself.
"I'm not hiding it," Jane said softly. "Just… trying to live with it."
Levi crouched beside her, eyes glowing faintly gold. "Steel or flesh—it makes no difference. You endured. That is what makes you strong."
Jane gave a tired smile. "You said that before."
"Because it is true." Levi's gaze lingered on her arm, then lifted to Jane's face. "You bleed, you suffer, and yet you rise. Do you know how rare that is, even among my kind?"
Jane's throat tightened. "I'm not strong like you. I'm just… stubborn."
Levi leaned closer, her voice lowering. "Strength takes many shapes. Yours burns quietly, but I see it."
For a heartbeat, Jane forgot to breathe. The closeness, the intensity in Levi's eyes—it was almost too much. She turned her gaze away, heat rising in her cheeks.
"You talk like you know me," Jane murmured.
"I know enough," Levi replied. "You bled for me. That is a bond I will not forget."
Silence stretched between them, heavy and fragile, broken only by the crackle of the fire. Jane's chest ached with something she couldn't name, something that terrified her as much as it steadied her.
Finally, she whispered, "Then don't leave me behind."
Levi's expression softened, just slightly, the edges of her pride bending into something almost tender. "Never."
The fire burned low, shadows pressing in, but for that moment, Jane felt something stronger than fear: the beginning of trust.
---