CHAPTER TWENTY: THE MOMENT I STOPPED RUNNING

Aria’s POV

The first gunshot didn’t sound like I expected.

It wasn’t loud in the way movies make it loud. It was sharper. Shorter. A crack that sliced through the hallway and lodged itself inside my chest. My body reacted before my mind did. I flinched hard, fingers clawing into Damon’s sleeve, breath tearing out of me in a thin, ugly sound.

The lights flickered again.

Emergency red pulsed along the ceiling, bathing everything in a feverish glow. The air smelled like metal and ozone and something burning. Somewhere down the hall, glass shattered. Not exploded. Popped. One by one. Controlled.

“They’re firing suppression rounds,” Damon said calmly, which somehow scared me more than if he’d shouted.

Suppression.

Like we were something to pin down. To flush out.

Daniel swore under his breath near the console. “They’re not trying to kill anyone yet.”

Yet.

My heart hammered so violently I felt dizzy. Damon’s hand slid to my lower back, firm, grounding, guiding me away from the door as another sound echoed through the corridor. Heavy boots. More than one set. Moving in rhythm.

Hunters.

That word slammed into me again, sharp and cold.

“They know where we are,” I whispered.

“Yes,” Damon said. “Which means we stop standing where they expect us to be.”

He moved fast then, pulling me toward the hidden panel behind the bookcase. I hadn’t even known it was there until he pressed his palm to the wood and the shelf slid open with a low mechanical hum. My pulse spiked.

“Inside,” he said.

I hesitated.

Not because I was scared. Not exactly.

Because something inside me rebelled.

Running again.

Hiding again.

Being moved like an object again.

Another gunshot cracked. Closer this time. The wall shuddered faintly.

I met Damon’s eyes. “I’m not disappearing.”

His jaw tightened. “This is not disappearing. This is survival.”

I swallowed. Hard. “Then I go with you. Not ahead of you. Not behind you.”

For half a second I thought he’d argue.

Then his hand tightened on mine. “Deal.”

We slipped into the passage just as something slammed into the office door hard enough to rattle the frame. Daniel cursed behind us, fingers flying across the console.

“I’ll loop them,” he shouted. “Buy you thirty seconds.”

“Get out,” Damon ordered.

The panel slid shut behind us, plunging the passage into dim emergency lighting. The walls were close. Narrow. Concrete. Cold. The sound of my breathing filled the space, too loud, too fast.

We moved.

Footsteps echoed overhead. Voices. Low. Efficient. No panic. No shouting. That was worse.

“They’re trained,” I whispered.

“Yes.”

“To do what.”

He didn’t answer.

The passage sloped downward, then curved sharply. My shoes scraped against the floor as we ran, my lungs burning, thoughts tripping over themselves.

I remembered flashes. Not full memories. Sensations. Running like this. Heart racing. A hand gripping mine. Not Damon’s hand. Smaller. Gloved. Someone counting under their breath.

Focus. Focus.

The passage opened into a reinforced stairwell. Damon slowed just long enough to listen, head tilted, senses sharp.

“Three above,” he murmured. “One below.”

My stomach clenched. “How can you tell.”

“I just can.”

He pulled me down the stairs, fast but controlled. My legs shook, not from weakness but from adrenaline flooding every nerve.

Another shot rang out. This one closer. Concrete chipped somewhere above us.

“They’re herding us,” I said.

Damon glanced back at me. “Good.”

I blinked. “Good.”

“Yes. Means they want you alive.”

That should have comforted me.

It didn’t.

We hit the lower landing and turned into another corridor, this one wider, industrial. Pipes lined the walls. Steam hissed somewhere overhead. The smell of oil and heat thickened the air.

My head pounded. Not from fear. From pressure. Like something was trying to surface.

A door ahead stood ajar.

Damon slowed. Raised a hand. Silent.

I held my breath.

A shadow moved on the far side of the door.

Too smooth.

Too deliberate.

Damon reached behind him without looking and pressed something cold into my palm.

A small device. Heavy. Solid.

“What is this,” I whispered.

“A tracker,” he said. “Yours now.”

My chest tightened. “Why.”

“In case we get separated.”

When. Not if.

“I don’t want them finding me,” I said.

“They won’t,” he replied. “Because it won’t be on you.”

Understanding hit hard.

“You’re using me as bait.”

He didn’t deny it. “I’m trusting you.”

That was worse.

The shadow moved closer.

Damon leaned in, voice barely a breath. “When I say run, you do not look back.”

“No,” I said immediately. “I am done being moved around.”

His eyes locked onto mine, intense, unyielding. “Aria. This is not the time.”

I shook my head. “I won’t survive by hiding anymore.”

Something flickered in his expression. Surprise. Respect. Fear.

Before he could respond, the door burst open.

A man stepped through.

Black tactical gear. Face partially covered. Weapon raised but not firing.

His gaze landed on me instantly.

Not Damon.

Me.

I felt it. That click. That recognition. Like he’d finally found what he was searching for.

“There she is,” he said calmly into his comm.

Damon moved.

Fast. Brutal. He lunged, knocking the weapon aside as it fired, the round ricocheting off metal with a shriek. Damon slammed the man into the wall, forearm crushing his throat, twisting the weapon free in one fluid motion.

I screamed.

Not from fear.

From the rush of it. From the heat. From the surge that tore through my veins like lightning.

Another hunter appeared at the far end of the corridor.

Damon fired. Once. Clean. The man dropped.

Silence slammed down.

My hands were shaking.

Not weak.

Energized.

Damon turned to me. “Run.”

I didn’t.

I stepped forward.

My head throbbed violently, images crashing through me now. White rooms. Voices. Training. Numbers. Pain. Endurance.

“You were right,” I said, breathless. “They didn’t just make me to survive.”

Damon’s eyes widened. “Aria.”

“They made me to adapt.”

The first hunter on the wall groaned, starting to move.

Without thinking, I reacted.

I drove my knee up. Hard. Precise.

He went limp.

Damon stared at me.

I stared at my own hands.

My pulse thundered. My body felt terrifyingly steady.

“I remember,” I whispered.

Not everything.

But enough.

Alarms wailed again, louder now. Closer. More footsteps. Many.

Damon grabbed my arm. “We have to move. Now.”

I nodded.

But as we turned, a voice echoed through the corridor. Calm. Familiar. Female.

“You’re doing so well,” Liana called out from somewhere unseen. “I knew you’d wake up.”

My blood ran cold.

Damon pulled me behind him, weapon raised.

“Where are you,” he demanded.

Her laughter drifted through the pipes. Soft. Pleased.

“Everywhere,” she replied. “And so are they.”

The lights cut out completely.

Total darkness.

Then emergency red flared back on.

And the corridor was no longer empty.

They were surrounding us.