"Don't move another inch, or I'll put a bolt through your throat."
Mara didn't just say it. She hissed it. The crossbow was leveled right between Cael Arden's eyes, steady as a heartbeat.
Cael didn't even blink. He leaned back against the rusted corrugated wall of the sealed district, wrists bound in heavy iron shackles. He looked too relaxed. Too damn comfortable for a man staring down a weapon. His silver eyes tracked her every breath, a lazy, infuriating smirk playing on his lips.
"You've been hunting me for three sectors, Voss. You're shaking," he drawled. His voice was smooth as velvet and twice as dangerous.
"I'm not shaking. I'm deciding where to aim," she snapped.
She stepped closer, boots crunching on shattered glass. The air tasted like ozone and old blood. "Why did you do it, Cael? Why kill the royal guard? Why let my brother pay the price for your little rebellion?"
Cael's smirk didn't vanish, but his gaze sharpened. He shifted, the chains rattling with a metallic clink that echoed too loudly in the silence. "Your brother was a fool who believed the Crown's lies. I just gave him a front-row seat to the truth."
Mara didn't hesitate. She stepped into his space, the tip of the bolt practically touching his skin. She grabbed the collar of his torn tunic and jerked him forward.
The smell of him—sandalwood and burnt copper—hit her all at once. It was too intimate. Too close. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and she hated that it wasn't just from the adrenaline.
"Tell me where the Ash Crown is," she whispered, voice trembling with rage. "Tell me, or I swear I'll let you bleed out in this gutter."
"Such a fierce little hunter," Cael murmured. He didn't fight her grip. Instead, he leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "But we both know you can't actually kill me. Not yet."
"Watch me," she snarled.
*Twang.*
A sharp rip of air. Mara didn't see the second shooter. She only felt the violent shift in weight as Cael slammed his body into hers. He didn't push her away—he threw himself in front of her.
A heavy bolt buried itself deep into his upper arm with a sickening thud.
Cael gasped. No scream, just a sharp intake of air. He collapsed against her, pinning her back against the wall. They slid down the metal siding together, hitting the grime-covered floor in a heap.
"What the hell are you doing?" Mara yelled, struggling to raise her weapon. "I was trying to kill you!"
Cael let out a jagged laugh, blood soaking through his dark sleeve. He looked up at her, face pale, eyes burning. "Sloppy... you didn't even hear the reload from the rooftop. You're lucky I'm... fond of your temper."
"I don't want your protection!" Mara shoved him off.
As she did, a searing pain exploded in her left forearm. Mara screamed, clutching her wrist. Beneath the skin, a mark began to glow—a jagged brand of swirling ash and gold. It felt like something was being ripped out of her and wired into something else.
At the same moment, Cael groaned. His own arm flared with the same violent light. The brands pulsed in perfect synchronization. A heartbeat of blinding crimson.
"What is this?" Mara gasped. "What did you do to me?"
Cael stared at his wrist, his amusement replaced by genuine shock. He tried to pull away, but the moment he moved, Mara felt a sharp tug in her chest. An invisible hook pulling her toward him.
"I didn't do this," Cael rasped. The arrogance was gone. Now, there was only fear. "The Brand of the Bound. It's an ancient lock. We're linked, Voss. My life... is now your life."
"Unlink it. Now!"
She reached for her combat knife to carve the damn thing off her skin.
"Touch that mark with a blade and you'll probably stop my heart," Cael warned, fighting to stay conscious. "Or worse... you'll stop your own. We're a closed loop. If I die, you go with me. If you die, I'm just a corpse in a fancy tunic."
Mara froze. The knife hovered an inch above her skin. She looked at the man she had spent three years dreaming of murdering. The royal traitor. The monster.
And now, he was the only thing keeping her heart beating.
"I hate you," she whispered.
"I know," he replied, that infuriating smirk returning. "But you're going to have to keep me alive, aren't you? I'd hate to see you die because I'm too stubborn to stop bleeding."
The air shimmered. The crimson glow intensified, and then, floating between them, a set of blood-red numbers materialized.
A countdown.
72:00:00.
"What the hell is that?"
Cael winced, clutching his wound. "The reset clock. The city... Veyra... she's going to collapse in three days. If we don't find the Ash Crown and break this link before that timer hits zero..."
"What?"
"We both vanish," Cael finished. "Not just die. We get erased. Every memory, every scrap of our existence... wiped clean."
Mara felt a cold dread settle in her stomach. The power dynamic had shifted in a heartbeat. She had the knife, but he had her life.
"Why tell me this?" she asked, eyes narrowing. "You're a traitor. You don't save people."
"I'm not saving you," Cael said. He leaned closer, his scent filling her senses again, his voice a dangerous whisper. "I'm saving myself. And since you're the only hunter in this district with enough spite to survive the sealed zones, you're my best bet."
He reached out, fingers grazing her wrist—right over the glowing brand. A jolt of electricity sparked through her. Her breath hitched. It wasn't just a link; it was a magnetic pull that made her want to push him away and pull him closer all at once.
"Get your hands off me," she snapped. She didn't move.
"Make me," he countered. His gaze dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second before locking back onto her eyes. "But first, we should probably deal with the three Crown kill-squads closing in. Unless you want to see if the brand protects us from bullets."
Heavy boots echoed from the alleyway. Rhythmic. Armored.
Mara scrambled up, dragging Cael with her. He hissed in pain, shoulder slumping. She gripped his arm tight—too tight—and leaned into his ear.
"If we survive this," she whispered, "I'm still going to kill you."
"I'm counting on it."
They turned the corner just as a flash-bang detonated behind them. White light blinded her. The roar of gunfire filled the street. Cael's hand suddenly locked around her waist, pulling her flush against him as they dove behind a pile of rubble.
Their bodies collided, chest to chest, breath mingling. Mara could feel the heat of his skin through the fabric, the frantic thrum of his pulse matching her own. For a second, the war vanished. There was only the crushing proximity, the smell of blood and sandalwood, and the terrifying realization that she didn't want to let go.
Then, a voice boomed from the street through a helmet comms system.
"Cael Arden! By order of the High Crown, surrender or be erased!"
Cael looked at Mara, a wild glint in his eyes. "Ready to run, hunter?"
Mara tightened her grip on her crossbow, eyes locked on the timer: 71:58:12.
"Run," she commanded, "and if you slow me down, I'll shoot you in the other arm."
From the smoke of the alley, a shadow leaped—not a soldier, but something faster, something inhuman—and screamed, "Found you!"