Amy
Amy’s hands were steady, but her heart raced like a storm in her chest. She gripped the gun, every nerve taut as Queen’s dark figure darted through the corridor with Cassandra’s baby pressed against her chest. Kael moved alongside her, eyes sharp, muscles coiled, ready to intercept.
“Stay close to me,” Amy whispered, voice low but sharp. She didn’t dare lose focus—not now, not when the stakes were this high. Kael nodded, his hand brushing hers briefly, a silent reassurance that they were in this together.
Queen’s laughter cut through the tense air. “You think you can stop me? You have no idea what’s coming.” Her grip on the baby tightened. Zayn let out a small, frightened cry, and Amy’s chest tightened with fury.
“Back off!” Amy yelled, her voice echoing down the long, empty corrid
