Chapter 51: What Bleeds, Breaks

Pain is a strange thing.

It doesn’t always scream. Sometimes it whispers soft, insistent until it becomes impossible to ignore.

The sharp sting at my side spread slowly, like fire licking beneath my skin. I pressed my palm against it instinctively, my fingers coming away warm and slick. Blood. Not enough to kill me. Not yet. But enough to remind me that I was human, fragile, and standing in the middle of a war I never asked to fight.

Elliot swore under his breath.

Not loudly. Not panicked. But the sound carried weight controlled fury, sharpened by fear he refused to show.

“Marcus,” he said, voice clipped. “Get her back. Now.”

“I’m fine,” I said automatically, though my knees threatened to betray me. I hated weakness. Hated how easily it showed when your body decided it had reached its limit.

Marcus, my stepbrother was already beside me, one arm firm around my waist, grounding me before I could fall. His grip was steady, familiar in a way that made my chest ache.

“You’re bleeding,” he said quietly, eyes flicking to my side. “You don’t get to decide you’re fine.”

Liam, my sister’s mate had my sister tucked behind him, one hand braced protectively against her shoulder. His jaw was tight, eyes sharp as they tracked the mysterious figure still standing across the burning warehouse, untouched, unhurried.

As if this was all unfolding exactly the way they planned.

That realization chilled me more than the blood loss.

The flames roared louder, devouring the last of the warehouse’s support beams. Smoke curled thickly through the air, making it hard to see, harder to breathe. Somewhere in the chaos, metal groaned under pressure, a warning we didn’t have much time left.

The mysterious figure tilted their head, watching us with unsettling calm.

“You should leave,” they said, almost kindly. “This place won’t stand much longer.”

Elliot stepped forward, placing himself squarely between me and them. My dad’s best friend moved like a shield solid, unyielding, dangerous.

“You don’t get to decide that,” he said coldly.

The figure smiled.

“I already have.”

And that’s when everything shifted.

A deafening crack split the air as part of the ceiling collapsed, sending a cascade of sparks and debris crashing down between us and the figure. The impact shook the floor beneath our feet, knocking me against Marcus’s chest.

“Move!” Liam shouted.

We didn’t hesitate.

Marcus tightened his grip on me, half-dragging, half-carrying me as we bolted toward the exit we’d marked earlier. Elliot stayed behind, covering our retreat, his movements lethal and precise as shadows lunged from the smoke, desperate to slow us down.

My sister stumbled, panic breaking through her composure, and Liam caught her without missing a step, murmuring something low and steady into her ear. I couldn’t hear the words, but I could see the effect her breathing slowed, her steps steadied.

I envied that certainty.

I envied the way Liam knew exactly how to anchor her.

Because everything inside me felt like it was unraveling.

We burst out into the night air just as another explosion rocked the building behind us. Heat slammed into my back, forcing a cry from my throat as Marcus finally eased me down against the side of a nearby truck.

Elliot emerged seconds later, smoke clinging to him like a second skin.

For a moment, none of us spoke.

The warehouse burned behind us, flames clawing at the sky, taking secrets with it. Evidence. Answers. Whatever that place had been hiding it was gone now.

And yet, I felt no relief.

Only dread.

Elliot crouched in front of me, his gaze dropping to my side. “Let me see.”

I hesitated, then lifted my hand. Blood soaked through my fingers.

His jaw tightened.

“Not deep,” he assessed. “But it needs attention.”

“I’ve had worse,” I said weakly.

He looked up at me then, really looked at me and something raw flickered in his eyes. Fear. Anger. Guilt.

“You shouldn’t have been touched at all.”

The words settled heavily between us.

Marcus straightened, running a hand through his hair. “That wasn’t random. Whoever that was they knew our movements. Knew where we’d be.”

“I know,” I said softly.

Because the truth had been forming in my mind since the moment the figure locked eyes with me.

They weren’t just after chaos.

They were after me.

As Liam helped my sister sit, I noticed her trembling hadn’t stopped.

“Hey,” I said, reaching for her hand. “Talk to me.”

She swallowed hard. “They said something… before the fire spread. I didn’t hear it clearly at first, but” Her voice cracked. “They said this was only the beginning. That you wouldn’t be able to protect all of us.”

Silence fell.

Not shocked silence.

Knowing silence.

Because every one of us felt it the tightening net, the escalation, the way the game had shifted from threats to direct confrontation.

Marcus cursed under his breath. “They’re pushing us. Testing boundaries.”

Elliot stood, scanning the darkness around us. “And they’re confident.”

That scared me most of all.

The ride back was tense.

No one spoke much, but the silence was heavy with unasked questions and unspoken fears. The city lights blurred past the windows, too bright, too normal, as if the world hadn’t nearly ended an hour ago.

I leaned my head against the seat, exhaustion pulling at me, my wound throbbing with every heartbeat.

And then my phone buzzed.

Once.

Twice.

Unknown number.

My stomach dropped.

I unlocked the screen with trembling fingers.

Unknown:

You survived. Good.

Another message followed immediately.

Next time, you won’t walk away.

My breath hitched.

I didn’t show anyone.

Not yet.

Because deep down, I knew this wasn’t something I could hand over.

This wasn’t just their war anymore.

It was mine.

As the car turned onto my street, I looked up and froze.

Because the light in my bedroom window was on.

And I was absolutely certain I had turned it off.