The warehouse fell silent—unnaturally so. No more shouting. No clash of steel. Only the slow, ugly drip of blood splattering onto concrete.
Alessia slogged through the ruin, her boots leaving red streaks in their wake. Her chest rose and fell in that frantic, too-tight rhythm that always came after a fight dragged too long. Sweat-soaked hair stuck to her cheeks. Her jaw was clenched so hard she was amazed it didn’t snap.
She didn’t even register the gash along her ribs until the bitter chill scraped across it.
Didn’t bother to care.
The only thing that mattered was the tremor running beneath her skin—the one that always came after the adrenaline burned off, the one she pretended never happened.
At least, pretended for everyone but him.
Lucian appeared at her back without a sound, imp
