Chapter 10

Anna's POV

The cold night air was too much for me as we ran past Berlin’s darkened alleys. The city lights were particularly bright but we kept to the shadows so we wouldn't be seen.

My heart pounded as I ran but I kept moving. Dorian’s grip on my hand was firm, pulling me forward, guiding me as if he could sense the safest paths.

We barely spoke, just exchanged quick glances as we wove through the streets. Dorian tried calling the organization’s emergency line, his jaw tightening when no one answered. A second call. Nothing. The third went straight to voicemail. He cursed under his breath. We were on our own.

The weight of that realization pressed down on me. Whoever had attacked us knew exactly where we were. They had planned this. And now, with our protectors possibly dead, we had no backup. No weapons. No safe place to go. I shuddered as I feared what they'd do if they caught us.

A distant shout echoed behind us, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps. My stomach twisted. They were still searching for us.

***

The abandoned warehouse loomed ahead, its rusted metal doors slightly ajar. Dorian ushered me inside, his eyes scanning every shadow before shutting the door behind us. The air inside smelled of dust and damp wood and moonlight streamed through broken windows.

I leaned against a wall, my legs trembling, trying to steady my breath. Dorian stood near the entrance, listening, his whole body tense. His shirt was torn at the sleeve, a thin line of blood marking his forearm from the fire escape.

“You’re hurt,” I said, stepping toward him.

He glanced down at the wound as if he was just noticing it. “It’s nothing.”

I ignored him, tearing off a piece of my shirt and reaching for his arm. He sighed but let me wrap the fabric around it, tightening it just enough to slow the bleeding. He watched me the entire time, something unreadable in his gaze.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

I nodded, but the truth was, I wasn’t. My mind kept circling back to that gunshot over the phone, the way the lights had gone out so suddenly, the feeling of falling into the unknown with no safety net. We had barely made it out alive.

I exhaled, pressing my forehead against his chest for just a moment. His arms came around me, grounding me.

“We’ll figure this out,” he murmured. “We just need a plan.”

I pulled back and met his gaze. “We have no weapons, barely any cash, and we don’t even know who’s after us.”

Dorian’s expression hardened. “Then we start by finding out.”

I swallowed, steeling myself. Whatever came next, I knew one thing—I wouldn’t let them take me again.

The moment I started to feel a little bit safe, I heard it—a sharp crunch against the gravel outside the warehouse. My body tensed instantly, every nerve on high alert. Dorian heard it too. He stiffened, his gaze snapping to the door.

A second footstep. Then another. There was more than two people.

My breath caught in my throat as Dorian silently gestured for me to move. I barely had time to register what was happening before he grabbed my hand, leading me toward the back of the warehouse. My pulse pounded in my ears, drowning out all other sounds except the steady, deliberate steps approaching the entrance.

Then—Bang! The warehouse door slammed open. The beam of a flashlight cut through the darkness, sweeping across the space.

“Search the area,” a deep voice ordered in German.

My stomach twisted. They had found us.

Dorian pulled me faster, weaving through rusted crates and forgotten debris. We slipped through a gap in the warehouse wall just as the first gunshot rang out behind us, the bullet striking metal with a sharp clang.

We ran.

Cold night air bit at my skin as we burst into the open alley behind the warehouse. The moment our feet hit the pavement, more shouts erupted behind us. Footsteps pounded against the ground as our pursuers gave chase.

Dorian yanked me forward and I didn’t know where we were going—I only knew we couldn’t stop. My lungs burned, my legs screamed, but fear drove me forward.

Another shot rang out, striking the wall inches from my head. I yelped, ducking instinctively.

Dorian’s grip on my hand tightened. “We need to lose them!”

We took a sharp turn into a wider street. My heart nearly stopped when I spotted a group of men in dark tactical gear emerging from another alley ahead of us. They were trying to cut us off.

“We’re trapped,” I gasped.

Dorian’s eyes darted wildly until they landed on something across the street. I followed his gaze—a sleek, black motorcycle parked outside a dimly lit bar.

“Can you ride?” I asked breathlessly.

He didn’t answer. He just pulled me across the street, weaving through honking cars. My legs barely kept up, adrenaline the only thing keeping me from collapsing.

As we reached the bike, Dorian swung a leg over and hot-wired it in seconds. I barely had time to scramble on behind him before the engine roared to life.

“Hold on!”

I barely managed to wrap my arms around his waist before we shot forward. The force of acceleration nearly threw me off, but I clung to him like my life depended on it—because it did.

Shouts erupted behind us, followed by more gunfire. The men were firing, bullets slicing through the air. One hit a car mirror beside us, shattering glass onto the pavement.

Dorian swerved, weaving between moving traffic.

“They’re still behind us!” I shouted over the roar of the engine.

Dorian barely turned his head. “Not for long.”

He yanked the bike left, darting into a narrow alley between buildings. The walls were so close I could’ve reached out and touched them. A quick glance behind us confirmed at least two motorcycles following, their headlights cutting through the dark.

Panic clawed at my chest. We couldn’t outrun them forever.

“Dorian—”

“I see it,” he cut me off.

Ahead, the alley ended in a sharp drop—a staircase leading down to a lower street level. My stomach lurched as I realized what he was about to do.