Twin Flames, Shattered Fates

Chapter Thirty: Fire in the Dark

The door shattered first.

One crack of the battering ram split the silence, the walls trembling as dust rained from the ceiling. The second blow splintered the frame. The third sent the door crashing inward with a roar of steel on concrete.

Shouts erupted. Boots pounded. Flashlights cut through the dark like lightning.

Aris’s world tilted. Her pulse slammed against her ribs, weak but furious. They found me.

For one breath, hope lit her like fire.

Then Gabe moved.

“No.” His voice tore from his throat, raw, frantic. “No, no, no—”

He lunged for her, his hands iron clamps on her arms. Her body sagged, weak from months of deprivation, but her heart kicked violently against her ribs.

“Let go,” she rasped, shoving against him with what little strength she had.

He hauled her up anyway, dragging her toward the back corridor. His grip was all desperation, all possession.

“They won’t take you from me,” he hissed, spittle on her cheek. “You’re mine. Always.”

The accomplice swore under his breath, drawing his knife as the first officers poured in. Shadows clashed in the narrow hall. Gunfire cracked, deafening. The air filled with smoke and dust, with the acrid sting of gunpowder.

Aris’s knees buckled. Gabe yanked her upright, half-carrying, half-dragging her. Her feet scraped against the concrete floor, toes barely finding purchase.

“Stop fighting me!” he barked, shaking her hard enough to rattle her teeth.

But her eyes—though blurred, though fever-bright—locked on his with molten defiance. “I will never stop.”

He bared his teeth like an animal.

The world slammed back into Tobe the moment the door gave way.

Pain shot through his body with every step—his ribs screaming, his stitches tearing—but nothing could hold him back. The moment he heard her voice, faint but alive, it cut through every warning, every restraint.

“Aris!”

He pushed past Harlow’s outstretched arm, ignoring the detective’s barked order. His boots hit concrete, eyes darting through the chaos.

And then he saw her.

A flicker in the smoke, dragged by Gabe’s fists, her body a pale blur of weakness and defiance.

Something inside him ignited.

“Get your hands off her!”

Gabe spun at the sound, wild-eyed, dragging Aris tighter against him like a shield. His voice cracked in manic triumph. “You can’t stop me, Tobe. She’s already mine.”

Tobe didn’t hesitate. His body screamed, but he lunged.

The fight unfolded around her in jagged fragments. Shouts. Gunfire. A body crashing against the wall.

But her focus was a pinpoint: Tobe’s voice cutting through the storm.

Her heart lurched, a sob ripping from her throat before she could stop it. “Tobe—!”

Gabe’s hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her cry. His fingers dug into her jaw hard enough to bruise.

“She doesn’t want you,” he snarled at Tobe, voice breaking. “She never did.”

Aris bit down. Hard.

Gabe yelped, jerking his hand back. Blood smeared her lips, copper tang flooding her mouth. Her body trembled, but her voice was clear.

“You’re wrong. I’ll never be yours.”

Tobe closed the distance like a storm breaking. His fists flew, raw, desperate, every blow fueled by months of rage.

Gabe fought back with feral energy, shoving Aris aside long enough to swing. Their bodies crashed together, fists striking, ribs cracking, blood spraying the concrete.

Aris stumbled, collapsing against the wall. Her vision blurred, breath ragged, but she forced herself to crawl toward them, dragging her weak limbs across the floor.

Every strike echoed in her skull. Tobe’s groan of pain. Gabe’s guttural curses.

The accomplice stood frozen at first, knife in hand, eyes flicking between them. His jaw clenched, torn between stepping in or letting it burn.

Then he moved.

A sharp blow to the back of Tobe’s skull.

The world lurched. Tobe staggered, eyes rolling, and collapsed hard onto the concrete. Blood spread beneath his head.

“No!” Aris’s voice broke, raw and jagged. She clawed against the floor, reaching for him.

Gabe was already moving, seizing her by the arms again.

“Enough of this!” His voice cracked like glass. “We’re leaving!”

She struggled, her nails raking his skin, her legs kicking weakly. But her body betrayed her, muscles too frail to resist.

“Let me go!”

He clamped a rag against her mouth. The bitter, chemical sting of chloroform flooded her senses.

Her scream muffled into silence. Her body thrashed, then slowed.

Her vision tunneled.

The last thing she saw before the dark claimed her was Tobe’s still form, blood haloed beneath his head.

And Gabe’s eyes, wild and victorious, dragging her into the night.

Chaos reigned in the hideout.

Harlow’s team breached deeper, shouting commands, weapons trained. Two of Gabe’s followers went down under suppressive fire, another tackled to the ground. Smoke grenades hissed, filling the air with a choking haze.

But the back door slammed.

By the time the officers stormed into the corridor, Gabe was gone—Aris gone with him.

Tobe lay unconscious, blood seeping into the concrete.

Mimi’s scream pierced the din as she shoved past the line of officers, dropping to her knees beside him. Axel was right behind her, his face pale, his hands already pressing against Tobe’s wound.

“Stay with us, man,” Axel muttered, his voice shaking. “Don’t you dare check out on us now.”

Mimi’s sobs filled the space, raw and unrestrained. “Where’s Aris? Where is she?!”

Harlow’s curse echoed off the walls, sharp and bitter. The wrong door had opened, the wrong moment seized.

And Aris was gone.

The world spun.

Her body was a ragdoll in Gabe’s arms, the drug fogging her mind, dulling her limbs. She could hear his breath, ragged in her ear, his voice muttering as he half-carried, half-dragged her into the night.

“They won’t take you,” he whispered fiercely, his words shaking. “They’ll never take you. You’re mine.”

Her mind screamed, though her body couldn’t. No. I am not yours. I will never be yours.

But the drug pulled her deeper.

The last thread of awareness clung to the sound of sirens swelling in the distance, too far, too late.

And then—nothing.