Chapter 5 : Sienna

The world just… explodes.

Metal shrieks, tires smoke against the asphalt, and then something slams into me with enough force to knock the wind out of my lungs.

One second I am standing, the next the ground is gone.

I hit the pavement hard, pinned beneath a weight that smells of pine, leather, and rain. For a heartbeat, neither of us moves. We just lie there.

A black sedan tears past us, clipping the curb before vanishing around the corner. Then, the silence hits—heavy and sudden.

I watch my coffee cup roll away, the brown liquid spreading across the street. I stare at it, my mind racing. I should have been the one hit. I should be dead.

“You hurt?”

Kieran’s voice is rough. I blink, trying to get my brain to actually function.

“I…” My hands are shaking too hard to finish the sentence. “I don’t think so.”

He doesn’t move right away. He stays draped over me, his muscles rigid, shielding me from the road. He lifts his head, those golden eyes scanning the empty street, listening for something I can’t hear.

Only when he is sure the car isn’t coming back does he look down at me.

We are inches apart. His breathing is steady, perfectly controlled. Mine is a mess.

“Can you stand?”

I nod.

He pulls me up, his hand steady under my elbow.

It takes a moment for me to realize he’s still holding on. His grip is firm—not like he’s trying to keep me from leaving, but more like he’s keeping me from falling apart.

My heart is still hammering against my ribs. He’s so close that his scent is all I can breathe in.

A short, breathless laugh escapes me, sounding a little manic.

“You smell…”

I trail off.

He looks at me instantly. “What?”

I can feel the heat climbing up my neck and into my cheeks. “Nothing.”

His jaw sets. “No.” His voice drops an octave. “What were you going to say?”

I swallow hard. “You smell… incredible.”

He goes completely rigid. His eyes flash gold, and for a split second, there’s something predatory staring back at me.

“Careful, Sienna.”

The way he says my name sounds like a warning.

“I don’t have much control left.”

***

A cold realization hits me.

“The note,” I say.

His expression hardens. “What note?”

“The one on my pillow. It says, ‘We see you.’”

His face goes still. “Signed…”

I hesitate. “The Architects.”

He lets out a growl that doesn’t sound human. People on the sidewalk stop walking; the street goes silent.

“They found you,” he says, his voice frighteningly calm. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t think—”

“No,” he interrupts, his eyes burning into mine. “You didn’t understand.”

He looks toward the road where the sedan vanished. “They weren’t trying to scare you,” he whispers. “They were trying to finish what they started twenty years ago.”

“You’re coming with me.”

“What if I refuse?”

His gaze never leaves mine.

“Then I’ll carry you.”

I look at the shattered coffee cup lying in the middle of the road.

At the black skid marks stretching across the pavement.

At the place where I almost died.

My heartbeat is still refusing to slow.

I meet his eyes.

“Take me with you.”