The music starts softly.
Strings. Light. Familiar.
I rise onto my toes, balance trembling, body moving on instinct alone. The mirror stretches endlessly, white walls, white floor, white faces watching for mistakes.
"Again."
I turn. Spin. Hold.
Too slow.
A sharp crack across my face.
The music shatters.
"Useless," a voice snaps. "You're nothing if you can't do this. Nothing special."
The room lurches.
Sirens scream.
Glass explodes.
Hands grab my arms, pulling me back. A voice cuts through the chaos - low, urgent, saying my name like it matters.
"It's okay," he says softly. "I've got you."
For half a second, I believe him.
Then hands tear him away.
He shouts my name.
I scream, reaching for him as he's dragged backward into the crowd, into the noise, into the dead.
Teeth snap.
Bodies crush in.
I can't breathe-
*
I gasp awake, sweat dripping down my forehead as I sit up, my head pounding. I squeeze my eyes shut and force my breathing to slow, shoving the memories back into the dark where they belong.
Fuck nightmares.
They ruin my beauty sleep every time.
My eyes snap open.
Wait.
The mask is still on my face, I scan the room slowly.
My room.
The one I built in the basement, the bed I dragged down here, the mismatched sheets and pillows scavenged from half a dozen houses to make it feel less like a hole and more like mine.
I found this place when I needed somewhere hidden for now, but that turned into a longer stay then I expected. The only house with a basement like this, locked, sealed, invisible unless you knew exactly how to get in. Even if someone broke into the house, they'd never find it unless they tried hard enough.
The basement had a bedroom, a main area near the hidden entrance and a bathroom I couldn't use because I had no idea how plumbing worked.
Brains weren't really my thing.
Looks and killing skills, though? Plenty.
Fairy lights glow faintly along the walls, fake plants, a girly butterfly rug, teddies scattered around and even a rocking chair - don't ask how I got it down here.
Candles too. I'd found about fifty lighters over time, I smoked when I find them.
It felt normal.
My ankle is wrapped.
I frown.
Then I notice a water bottle and half a chocolate bar sitting neatly on my nightstand.
I'm on my feet instantly, ignoring the warning throb in my ankle. My bag and swords are near the entryway. From the bathroom, I hear movement. Rustling. Water.
What the hell?
It doesn't work.
Did I imagine it?
I grab one of my samurai swords and press myself against the wall beside the door.
It opens.
I swing.
He ducks.
How the fuck-
He slams me against the wall. I gasp, knee him, elbow him. He shifts and I twist on one foot - thank you, ballet - staying upright longer than I should. He grabs the sword, metal scraping as he blocks with his own.
That's when I see his face properly.
Same guy. no cloth masks this time. Sharp jaw. Straight nose. Light stubble.
Unfortunately, attractive.
Still doesn't excuse the fact that some asshole crossed into my safe place without permission.
"Calm the fuck down!" he growls.
I kick his leg. He stumbles, recovers fast, twists my wrist. I gasp and the sword clatters to the floor.
Stupid ankle.
He grabs my arms and pins me to the wall. We're breathing hard, too close.
Like-damn. Close much?
"Will you calm down now?" he hisses, blue eyes locked on mine.
Not gonna lie… it's kinda hot-
Fuck. Shut up.
Some asshole is in your safe place.
"Get out," I snap.
Weak. That's all I've got?
He raises an eyebrow. "This is the thanks I get for saving your ass? Nearly slicing my damn nipples off?"
Oh fuck…
My gaze drops to his bare chest before I can stop it. Tattoos trail from his neck down his torso, ink wrapping both arms. His muscles tense as he holds me there. He smells like honeyed wood and smoke.
What am I doing?
Pain explodes through my ankle.
I buckle with a sharp hiss.
He curses and releases me instantly, guiding me to a chair as I wince.
"Sit down before you do something stupid," he grumbles, crouching to check the wrap.
"I never invited you. I do fine on my own," I say dryly, pushing my good foot against his chest to keep space between us.
The closeness is too much.
It's hard enough looking at him with his fucking shirt off, it's been so long since I've seen a decent looking guy, abs and tattoos.
He steps back, clearly just as irritated. "You passed out. You weren't waking up and you're not walking anywhere anytime soon with that ankle."
It was obvious I had distrust written all over my face. Waking up with a stranger in my safe place doesn't sit right with me either.
"You were bleeding," he says, jaw tight. "I had to make sure you weren't bitten or scratched. I didn't look through your shit. I'm just here to help."
He turns, grabs his shirt, and pulls it on.
I still catch myself tracking the ink as he moves. Taking me here, wrapping my ankle, leaving water and half of his precious chocolate bar.
A decent start.
Doesn't mean I trust him.
Kindness always comes with strings.
"What do you want?" I ask, tilting my head.
"Same thing as you. Surviving," he says. "But I'm not heartless enough to leave you crippled. So, let's make a deal."
I narrow my eyes.
"You heal up. Once you can move, we find me a vehicle. Then we go our separate ways." He holds out his hand.
"What if I want out?" I ask. "What if we can't find another one?"
He leans in until his face is inches from mine. His eyes are a mess of sharp blues, layered and intense.
"Not my problem-unless you want to come with me," he says quietly. "I can tell you're not a bad person. Just stubborn. Mouthy. And weirdly attached to things that don't matter anymore."
My head spins. From pain. From proximity.
With that face, that close.
He offers his hand again. "Otherwise, I leave first light."
I look away, annoyed.
I don't need anyone.
But he has a point, and I hate that more than anything.
"Fine," I sigh, placing my pale hand in his. His grip is rough, warm, veins visible beneath scarred skin.
"Name's Kade," he says, pulling me slightly closer. "Yours?"
I smirk.
"Nyx."