THE FIRST ONE
1278 Words
The sirens didn’t feel real at first.
They sounded distant. Detached. Like they belonged to another version of the night that didn’t include me standing in the rain, shaking, watching Damien Vossano inside a wrecked car.
Blue and red lights cut through the storm as police and emergency responders flooded the road. People started shouting instructions. Doors slammed. Radios crackled.
But I barely processed any of it.
Because Damien hadn’t moved.
Not toward the gunmen being pulled away.
Not toward the chaos surrounding us.
Only toward me.
Like I was still the priority in a situation that should have made everything else irrelevant.
A paramedic rushed toward me, asking questions I couldn’t fully hear.
“Are you injured?”
“Can you walk?”
“Miss, can you respond—”
I nodded once, though I wasn’t sure what I was agreeing to.
Then I looked back at the wreck.
Damien was finally being pulled free from the twisted metal.
His shirt was torn. Blood still traced down the side of his face. His arm looked wrong—angled in a way that suggested something had definitely broken or torn or both.
But his eyes stayed sharp.
Locked on me.
Even as they forced him back.
Even as they tried to stabilize him.
He didn’t look away.
Not once.
And that was the part that unsettled me more than everything else tonight.
Because men like him were not supposed to look like that.
Not exposed.
Not human.
Not… concerned.
A paramedic stepped between us, blocking my view as they moved him onto a stretcher.
Only then did I breathe properly again.
Only then did I realize I had been holding my breath since the moment the gun clicked.
---
They tried to take me into an ambulance.
I refused at first.
Not dramatically.
Just… instinctively.
“I’m fine,” I said, though my voice didn’t sound convincing even to me.
“You’re in shock,” one of them replied.
“I said I’m fine.”
Another glance toward the wreck.
Damien was already gone from view.
That should’ve made things easier.
It didn’t.
Instead, it left a strange pressure behind my ribs.
Like something unfinished.
Something unresolved.
I finally got into the ambulance when I realized arguing wasn’t going to change anything.
The doors closed.
The city lights blurred behind wet glass.
And for the first time since the crash—
silence returned.
But it wasn’t peace.
It was aftermath.
---
At the hospital, everything became too bright.
Too white.
Too clean for what had just happened outside in the rain and metal and blood.
They checked me quickly.
Bruised ribs.
Minor cuts.
Shock.
That word kept coming up.
Shock like it explained everything I couldn’t.
I sat on the edge of a hospital bed while nurses moved around me like I wasn’t fully there.
Because mentally… I wasn’t.
My thoughts kept looping back to the same thing.
Replacement.
First Sera Voss.
Damien’s silence.
The way he looked at me when that word was said.
Like something inside him had cracked open and he didn’t know how to close it again.
A knock came at the door.
I looked up instantly.
Expecting him.
It wasn’t.
Elira stepped in instead.
Calm as ever.
Controlled posture. Controlled expression. Like the world hadn’t just tilted off its axis a few hours ago.
“You’re safe,” she said simply.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“Where is he?” I asked immediately.
Her eyes flicked briefly toward the hallway.
“Medical wing. Security is with him.”
“Is he okay?”
A pause.
That pause told me everything before she even spoke.
“He will recover,” she said carefully.
That was not the same as “he is okay.”
I stood up before I even thought about it.
“I need to see him.”
Elira didn’t move to stop me.
But she did say something quieter.
“You shouldn’t.”
That made me stop.
Not because she told me no.
Because of how she said it.
Like she wasn’t warning me about rules.
She was warning me about him.
“I need answers,” I said.
“I know,” she replied. “But not all answers are meant to be heard while emotions are still loud.”
I almost laughed at that.
Almost.
Because everything in me was loud.
The crash.
The gun.
The word replacement.
Him saying “run.”
Me not running.
And still… he was the one I wanted to see.
That realization annoyed me more than it should have.
---
Damien’s wing was quieter than mine.
Different kind of silence.
Controlled again.
Always controlled.
A guard stood outside his door, but he stepped aside immediately when he saw me.
No questions.
That alone felt intentional.
Like they already knew I would come.
I pushed the door open.
And stopped.
He was sitting upright in the hospital bed.
Not asleep.
Not resting peacefully.
Just… present.
Bandages wrapped around his arm and ribs. A monitor beside him tracking his heartbeat in steady lines.
He looked worse than I expected.
And still more composed than anyone in this building had any right to be.
His eyes lifted the moment I entered.
And something in the room shifted again.
That same pressure.
That same awareness.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said.
I stepped closer.
“So I’ve heard.”
A faint pause.
Then—
“You’re injured,” he added.
“I’m fine.”
His gaze dropped briefly to my arm.
“You’re lying again.”
That made something in me snap a little.
“I almost died tonight,” I said quietly. “I think I can decide what counts as fine.”
Silence.
For once, he didn’t respond immediately.
That bothered me more than his usual control.
I moved closer to the bed.
“What did he mean?” I asked.
His eyes didn’t move.
“Who.”
“The man in the car,” I said. “The one you killed before he finished speaking.”
A flicker in his expression.
Not guilt.
Not regret.
Containment.
“What did he mean about the first Sera Voss?”
The room went still.
Even the machines sounded louder.
Damien looked away for the first time since I walked in.
That alone was an answer.
My voice dropped.
“You know,” I said.
Another silence.
Longer this time.
He exhaled slowly.
And when he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than I expected.
“Yes.”
My chest tightened.
“That’s all you’re going to say?”
He finally looked at me again.
And there it was.
Something behind his eyes I hadn’t seen clearly before.
Not dominance.
Not control.
Burden.
“You shouldn’t be involved in this,” he said.
“I already am.”
A pause.
Then—
“No,” he said. “You’re deeper in it than you realize.”
That sentence hit harder than the crash.
I stepped closer to the bed.
“Then explain it.”
For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t.
For once, I thought Damien Vossano might actually choose silence again.
But then his hand moved slightly on the bed.
Not reaching for me.
Not stopping me.
Just… resting there.
Like he was deciding how much damage honesty would cause.
And when he finally spoke—
it wasn’t to protect himself.
It was to protect something else.
“You were never the first Sera I tried to save,” he said quietly.
And just like that—
the truth stopped being a theory.
And started becoming a threat.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD