BOUND TO THE DEVIL

IMPACT

Everything went white.

Then black.

Then noise.

Metal screamed against metal like the world itself was being torn open. My head slammed into something hard—I couldn’t tell if it was the door or the seat—and for a moment, I couldn’t separate my body from the wreck around me.

“Sera.”

Damien’s voice cut through the chaos.

Close.

Not calm this time.

Sharp, edged with something dangerously close to panic—the kind that only shows when something he cannot afford to lose is slipping.

A hand locked around my waist and dragged me down hard.

Glass shattered above us, raining down in sharp, glittering fragments as the SUV hit us again.

The impact sent the car spinning.

I tasted blood.

“Stay down,” he snapped.

Like I had a choice.

Another crash followed, heavier than the last. The world flipped violently—once, then again—my vision flickering in and out like a broken reel.

And then—

Nothing.

Silence.

Not peaceful.

Dead.

---

When I came to, rain was falling.

Cold. Heavy. Real.

My cheek pressed against shattered glass and wet asphalt, grounding me in the aftermath. The car was on its side—no, crushed halfway in, the frame twisted, airbags deflated like something lifeless.

“Damien?” I rasped.

No response.

My heart kicked hard against my ribs.

“Damien!”

A sound came from behind me. Not a voice—movement.

I turned slowly, pain flaring through my ribs, sharp and immediate.

And then I saw him.

Damien Vossano was pinned between bent metal and the seat frame, blood trailing from his temple. He was conscious—barely—but his eyes were open, fixed on me like he was counting time.

Not his.

Mine.

“You okay?” he asked.

Of course that was his first question.

Not are you hurt. Not are you bleeding.

Just—are you alive.

“I think I’m bleeding internally,” I whispered.

“Good,” he said flatly. “Means you’re still talking.”

A strained laugh almost escaped me. “Is that your version of comfort?”

His jaw tightened slightly. “Move your leg.”

“I can’t feel my—”

“Move it anyway.”

Something in his tone didn’t allow hesitation.

I shifted.

Pain tore through me instantly, stealing the air from my lungs. But the pressure pinning me gave way, the seat loosening under the force.

Damien had kicked it free.

With one arm still trapped.

I froze.

“You’re stuck,” I said.

“I noticed,” he replied.

Sirens echoed faintly in the distance, growing closer.

He looked past me, his expression sharpening—not with fear, but calculation.

“They’re still here,” he said.

My stomach dropped. “The SUV?”

He didn’t answer.

That was answer enough.

---

Damien’s POV

They were professionals.

No plates. No hesitation. No wasted movement.

That meant this wasn’t a warning.

It was either an extraction.

Or an execution.

I shifted again, metal biting deeper into my ribs. Pain sharpened, anchoring me.

Good.

Pain meant I was still conscious.

“Sera,” I said.

Her attention snapped back to me instantly.

“I need you to listen.”

She let out a short, broken laugh. “You’re pinned in a wreck and still trying to be in charge?”

“Yes.”

That stopped her.

Good.

“Can you crawl?” I asked.

She swallowed. “I think so.”

“Then you leave. Now.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“They’re not here for both of us,” I said evenly. “They’re here for you.”

The silence that followed felt heavier than the wreck around us.

“No,” she said immediately. “I’m not leaving you here while—”

“Sera,” I cut in sharply, “you don’t negotiate with men who ram armored vehicles into moving targets.”

Her breath shook.

For the first time since I met her, she looked afraid.

Not of me.

Of this.

Good.

Fear meant she understood the stakes.

“Go,” I said again.

She shook her head. “No.”

Of course she wouldn’t.

Stubborn.

Alive.

I exhaled slowly.

This was going to cost me.

“Then you do exactly what I say,” I said.

Her eyes flashed. “I don’t take orders—”

“Yes,” I said coldly. “You do. Right now.”

A sound outside cut through the tension.

Footsteps.

Slow. Crunching against wet gravel.

Getting closer.

She heard it too. I saw it in the way her body stilled.

“They’re close,” she whispered.

“Yes.”

Her breathing quickened. “What do we do?”

I looked at her.

And made a decision I shouldn’t have.

“Trust me,” I said.

She froze.

Like that word carried weight.

“I don’t—”

“Trust me once,” I interrupted. “Then hate me after.”

A long second passed.

Then she nodded.

Barely.

---

Sera’s POV

The moment I agreed, something shifted.

Not around me.

Inside me.

Because trusting Damien Vossano felt like stepping off the edge of something and hoping I didn’t fall.

He reached behind the seat with his free arm, pressing against something hidden beneath the panel.

There was a soft click.

Then a section beneath my feet shifted open.

A concealed exit.

Of course there was a concealed exit.

“Get out,” he said.

I hesitated.

Another sound echoed outside—the scrape of metal, someone moving closer to the wreck.

I didn’t hesitate again.

Pain tore through me as I forced myself forward, crawling through the opening. Rain hit me immediately, cold and relentless, soaking through everything.

Alive.

I turned back instinctively.

Damien was still there, trapped, watching me.

“Don’t die,” I said before I could stop myself.

Something flickered across his face—almost a smile.

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

Then a shadow moved behind him.

Inside the wreck.

My blood ran cold.

“Damien—!”

Too late.

A man grabbed him from behind, forcing him back as a gun pressed against his head.

Everything went still.

The rain grew louder, filling the silence.

Damien didn’t react.

Didn’t struggle.

Didn’t panic.

He just looked at me.

And said one word.

“Run.”

The gun clicked.

I didn’t move.

And inside the wrecked car…

Damien finally smiled.

Not because he was safe.

But because he wasn’t alone anymore.