Chapter 11 · Prisoner Unchained

"Get the hell away from me, Lila!"

Cain didn't just speak; he roared. He slammed his back against the corrugated metal wall of the bunker, the impact rattling the loose bolts. He looked like a nightmare carved from obsidian and rage. Blood—thick, dark, and smelling of ozone—dripped from his knuckles, staining the concrete floor in jagged splatters.

Lila didn't flinch. She stepped forward, her boots crunching on broken glass. "I'm not leaving you to rot in a hole just because you're having a mood swing. Get up."

"You don't get it," Cain spat. He lunged forward, grabbing her wrist. His grip was a vice, his skin radiating a heat that felt like it could melt the very air between them. He pinned her arm against the wall, his face inches from hers. "Silas didn't lie. My blood is poison. Every second you breathe this air, you're taking a gamble with your life. Now move!"

Lila glared up at him, her chest heaving. She could smell the metallic tang of his sweat and the raw, electric scent of his gene-mods. The proximity was suffocating, an invisible wire stretched to the breaking point. She didn't pull away.