Chapter 8 · Rift Protocol - Chapter 8: The Kill Switch Needs Her

"You're bleeding."

Dalen's voice cuts through the ringing in my ears. I'm flat on my back, concrete cold under my shoulder blades, his weight pinning my wrist to the floor. The gun I just fired—his gun—is somewhere behind my head now. He kicked it away before I could blink.

"Let go," I say.

"Not until you tell me what the hell that was."

His hand is on my throat. Not squeezing. Just there. A reminder. I can feel his pulse through his palm, fast and uneven, and I don't know if it's rage or something else.

"I missed," I say. "On purpose."

"You fired at the relay core." His grip tightens, just a fraction. "You could've blown us both to pieces."

"Would've been faster than waiting for the reset."

His jaw clenches. I watch the muscle jump under the stubble, the way his eyes narrow like he's trying to solve an equation that keeps changing variables. He smells like cordite and sweat and something sharper—fear, maybe. I didn't think he could be afraid.

"You think dying ends this," he says.

"I know it does."

"Yeah?" He leans closer. His breath is warm against my cheek.