Chapter 22 · Dax Remembers the Kiss

"Get the hell away from her!"

Dax didn't just move—he collided. He slammed his shoulder into the masked guardian, a brutal tackle that sent both of them crashing into a heap of rusted gears. The silver heart—that shimmering, cursed piece of metal—spun across the floor, skidding toward the edge of the abyss.

"Dax!" I screamed. My head was spinning. *A copy.* The word echoed in my skull like a jagged piece of glass. "Leo said... he said I'm not..."

"Shut up about the copies!" Dax roared. He had the guardian pinned, his knuckles white, a vein pulsing in his neck. He didn't even look at me. "Grab the heart, Mara! Now!"

I didn't move. I couldn't. I just stared at him—bleeding, desperate, trying to play the hero in a city that ate heroes for breakfast.

"Why?" I whispered. "If I'm just a replacement, why do you care if I live?"

Dax froze. The fight vanished for a heartbeat. He turned his head, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that felt like a physical weight. It wasn't duty. It wasn't the contract. It was hunger.