Chapter 5 · The Voice That Wants the City Gone

"Get your hands off me, you freak!" Sloane screamed, her voice cracking as she tried to wrench her wrist away.

Kael didn't let go. He slammed her back against the rusted metal plating of the relay station, the impact knocking the wind out of her. He leaned in close, his chest nearly brushing hers, his eyes scanning the perimeter while his grip remained like a vice.

"Shut up if you want to keep breathing," Kael hissed. "The drones are circling. You keep screaming, and we both end up as red smears on the pavement."

Sloane glared at him, her chest heaving. The soul-link was pulsing—a dull, rhythmic throb in the back of her skull that mirrored his heartbeat. She could feel his adrenaline, a sharp, metallic tang in her mind, and something else. A cold, predatory hunger.

"You're just a weapon," she spat, though her voice trembled. "A broken, discarded piece of hardware. Why the hell are you even helping me?"

Kael's gaze dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second before snapping back to her eyes. He shifted his weight, pinning her more firmly against the wall.