Chapter 10: Splinter
1579 Words
Hazel woke to the scent of coffee and the rustle of paper. The safehouse was still gray and cold, but something in her chest felt steadier after sharing the night with Lucian so close, even if they’d barely slept.
He was already awake, perched on a low crate by the window, scanning maps by the watery light of dawn. Damp hair curled against his forehead, making him look younger, almost vulnerable, but the lines around his eyes reminded her how hard he’d lived.
“You didn’t sleep,” Hazel said, her voice rough with fatigue.
Lucian glanced over, a tired smile flickering. “Didn’t need to.”
She arched an eyebrow. “That’s a lie.”
“Maybe.” His grin faded as he turned back to the plans. “We’ve got a problem at the north checkpoint. If the Orsini block that street, we’re cornered.”
Hazel sat up, pulling the blanket closer. “We’ll control it,” she answered calmly.
Lucian looked up sharply. “You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true,” she insisted, swinging her legs off the cot to stand beside him.
His eyes held hers, searching. “What happens if you’re wrong?”
Hazel took a breath. “Then we adapt.”
The weight of that answer hung between them until Lucian reached for her, fingers brushing lightly at her waist, grounding them both. The moment seemed to hum with tension, fragile and intimate.
“You really believe that?” he asked, voice low.
Hazel nodded. “I have to.”
He let his hand linger a second longer before withdrawing. “Okay,” he said, voice rougher than before.
---
By midmorning, Lucian’s contacts arrived, one pair after another, hard-eyed men carrying crates of weapons, encrypted phones, and radios. Hazel stepped in to help inventory every item, ignoring the wary glances thrown her way.
Lucian watched her closely, pride flickering across his features though he tried to hide it.
Later, as they paused to eat stale bread and drink weak coffee, Lucian leaned in so the others couldn’t overhear. “They’ll follow me,” he said, voice low. “But they don’t understand you yet.”
Hazel gave a half-smile. “They don’t have to understand me. They just need to know I’m on their side.”
Lucian studied her face, as if measuring every word. “And are you?”
She met his gaze, steady and unflinching. “I’m on your side.”
Lucian went still, absorbing that. Something seemed to shift in the air, a splinter of trust, fragile and dangerous. Hazel didn’t look away, even as her pulse jumped in her throat.
---
By dusk they were out on a dry run, testing one of their planned escape routes. Lucian drove a battered black sedan, Hazel riding shotgun, maps folded neatly on her lap.
The city felt different through these eyes — every street a trap, every alley a threat. Hazel tracked every intersection, noting where they might be boxed in or where they could break free.
At a red light, Lucian reached over and touched her wrist, steady and sure. Hazel startled at the contact, but didn’t pull away.
“You’re shaking,” he said softly.
She looked down at her hands. “Doesn’t mean I’m afraid.”
Lucian’s eyes darkened. “Hazel, it’s all right to be afraid.”
“Not for me,” she answered, sharper than she meant.
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t push. When the light turned green, he took his hand back and the moment was lost, but its echo lingered.
---
They pulled into an alley near a high-rise under construction. Lucian killed the engine and scanned the dark.
Hazel stepped out, inhaling stale, cold city air. She felt alive, electric, hyper-aware of every sound.
Lucian joined her, close enough to brush her arm. “You’re good at this,” he murmured.
Hazel blinked. “At what?”
“Reading people,” he said. “Reading me.”
She laughed quietly. “Someone has to.”
His answering grin was quick, like sunlight. Then he sobered, eyes locked to hers.
“After we pull this off,” he said carefully, “what then?”
Hazel frowned. “Then we keep going. Take control.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Lucian pressed, voice softer. “What happens to us?”
Hazel froze.
The question opened something raw in her chest. She tried to answer but the words refused to come. Before she could gather herself, a sound cut through the alley — the scuff of boots on asphalt.
Lucian was instantly on alert, his hand slipping to the pistol under his coat. Hazel mirrored him, senses flaring.
Out of the shadows stepped a wiry young man, breathless and pale. One of Lucian’s lookouts.
“Boss,” the kid panted, hands half raised. “They know.”
Lucian’s eyes went flat and cold. “Who knows?”
“The Orsini,” the lookout choked out. “Word is they want to hit first. Hours, maybe.”
Hazel’s gut twisted, but she stayed calm.
Lucian’s knuckles went white around his weapon. “How much time?”
“Not long,” the lookout stammered. “They’re already moving on the south entrance.”
Lucian turned to Hazel, voice clipped. “New plan. We go now.”
Hazel nodded without hesitation. “Then we go now.”
---
Back at the safehouse, the mood flipped from tense to electric. Men rechecked weapons, filled magazines, slotted spare radios into pockets. Hazel stayed close to Lucian, helping coordinate.
When Lucian caught her alone near the crates, his voice turned low, urgent. “You’ll stay with me.”
Hazel stiffened. “Why?”
“Because I trust you,” he said simply, pinning her with that fierce stare.
She breathed out, tension breaking. “All right,” she said, softer.
Lucian touched her cheek then, a fleeting caress that made her dizzy. For a second, the hard edges between them went blurry, the world narrowing to a single point of heat.
---
They rolled out just before midnight, a convoy of three battered sedans, engines purring like restless predators. Hazel sat next to Lucian again, the maps on her lap, heart thundering.
Every corner felt like a chokehold. Every traffic light felt rigged.
Lucian reached over, voice quiet. “Hazel.”
“Yeah?”
“If it goes wrong, you leave.”
Hazel’s jaw set hard. “I’m not leaving you.”
He shook his head, voice low and tight. “Promise me.”
Hazel looked at him, furious, terrified, loving him in a way that felt like a blade. “No.”
“Hazel—”
“No,” she repeated. “I’m not promising you that.”
His face fell, raw and unguarded. “I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you.”
Her breath caught. “Lucian, you don’t get to protect me from this.”
A beat of silence stretched between them. Then Lucian sighed, almost in defeat, and leaned forward until his forehead rested against hers.
“Reckless,” he whispered.
Hazel smiled, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “So are you.”
He kissed her then, rough and desperate, pouring every unspoken word into her mouth. Hazel kissed him back, letting all the fear and fury and longing pour out.
When they broke apart, she was trembling.
Lucian rested his hand on her cheek. “Whatever happens,” he said, “we finish this together.”
Hazel nodded, voice steady. “Together.”
---
They pulled up two blocks from the Orsini stronghold, a squat concrete building flanked by high fences and cameras. Hazel slipped from the car, Lucian at her side.
The crew moved with silent efficiency, scattering to their positions.
Hazel scanned the street, adrenaline sparking through every nerve ending. She reached for Lucian’s hand, just for a second, grounding them both.
He squeezed her fingers tight before letting go. “On my signal,” he said.
Hazel nodded.
The world seemed to slow as they crept closer, breath misting in the cold air. Hazel felt every heartbeat, every footfall. She counted the seconds, waiting for Lucian’s call.
Then he gave the signal, a sharp whistle in the dark.
Everything exploded.
The first shot cracked, echoing like thunder through the alley. Hazel hit the ground, rolling for cover, weapon drawn. Lucian fired twice, movements precise and brutal.
Hazel’s pulse roared in her ears. She scanned left, spotted two Orsini soldiers trying to flank, and took them down with calm precision.
Lucian stayed near her, eyes sharp, movements fluid as a dancer’s. Hazel fell into step with him, side by side, the two of them moving like a single machine.
An Orsini guard lunged for Lucian with a knife. Hazel shot him through the shoulder before he reached. Lucian gave her a quick nod, breathless, grateful.
They pushed through the ground-floor door, kicking it open into a dim hallway. Sirens blared from somewhere far off, the city beginning to wake to the chaos.
Hazel caught her breath, eyes meeting Lucian’s.
“This is it,” she said, voice calm despite the pounding in her chest.
Lucian nodded, wiping blood from his cheek. “No turning back.”
Hazel smirked, adrenaline surging. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
They stepped forward together, into the heart of the stronghold, ready to finish what they had started.
- Writer
