Twin Flames, Shattered Fates

Chapter Twenty-Five: Shattered Paths

Aris woke to the taste of copper.

Her tongue was thick, her throat raw, and her body ached in ways she couldn’t map. The air clung damp to her skin, sour with mildew, oil, and something faintly metallic—blood, maybe. A buzzing fluorescent lamp swung overhead, each flicker smearing light into her half-drugged vision.

She tried to sit up, but her arms jerked back, rope biting into her wrists. A scrape of fiber against skin, a bloom of pain. Bound.

Her stomach dropped, but she pulled in breath through her nose, steady, deliberate. Panic was what Gabe wanted. Panic was weakness.

She blinked until shapes resolved. A basement—bare concrete, exposed pipes, a door bolted with something heavy. A second chair in the corner. And there, in the slant of light—him.

Gabe.

He leaned forward in another chair, elbows braced on his knees, watching her like someone watches fire—hungry and fearful all at once. His hair hung damp across his forehead, his chest rising too fast.

When he noticed her eyes were open, he smiled.

“You’re awake.” His voice was almost tender, threaded with relief. “I was afraid… they gave you too much.”

He rose, crossed to her, crouched so close she could see the tremor in his fingers. He brushed hair from her cheek, not gently but with ownership, as though tucking something back into place.

She flinched. “Don’t touch me.”

The words came out slurred, heavy with the residue in her veins, but her tone carried bite.

For a second, his expression cracked, then smoothed into something soft. “You’ll understand. You just need time. I can take care of you now—better than anyone else.”

Movement behind him: the accomplice, leaning against the wall, silent, arms crossed. The man’s gaze wasn’t cold exactly—more like detached curiosity, like he was watching a play he’d already seen.

Aris’s stomach tightened. Not alone. He brought backup.

She turned her head to meet the accomplice’s eyes, daring him. “Is this your idea of loyalty? Helping him cage people?”

The man didn’t answer. Just shifted his weight, one corner of his mouth twitching—not quite a smile, not quite disdain.

“Don’t talk to him,” Gabe snapped. His hand shot out, gripping Aris’s chin, forcing her to look at him. “Look at me. Just me.”

Her jaw ached, but she kept her gaze steady. “You think ropes and drugs are love?” Her voice rasped, but every syllable was sharp.

His fingers dug harder before he jerked back, pacing, breath ragged. “You don’t get it. They poisoned you against me. They make me the villain.” He raked his hands through his hair, laughing once, too high-pitched. “But here—here you’ll see. No one can twist it anymore.”

Aris pulled at the ropes, feeling the fibers cut, cataloging the burn, the angles. No give yet. But she wasn’t done.

Her body screamed exhaustion, the drugs still a fog at the edges of her mind. But beneath it, her pulse hammered, hot and furious. She could fight. She would.

“You’ll never own me.”

The words dropped like stones between them.

Gabe froze, then bent down fast, his face inches from hers, breath hot and sharp. “I already do.”

Across town, Axel’s car screeched into the police station lot. The clock on the dash read 2:13 a.m. Mimi was out of the car before it stopped moving, sprinting toward the glass doors, Axel on her heels.

Inside, the lobby smelled faintly of coffee and paper. A lone officer at the desk looked up, startled at their frantic entrance.

“Please—we need help,” Mimi said, breathless. “Our friend’s been taken.”

The officer straightened, pen stilled in his hand. “Slow down. Who’s been taken?”

“Aris,” Axel cut in. “By Gabriel Knight. He jumped her in the street. Tobe tried to stop him—he’s in the hospital right now, unconscious. This isn’t a misunderstanding. This is abduction.”

The officer’s eyes widened, but his training smoothed his features. He reached for the phone. “Sit tight. I’ll get a detective.”

“No,” Mimi snapped, voice shaking but fierce. “You don’t get it—we don’t have time to sit. He’s dangerous. She’s drugged. Every minute matters.”

Her desperation echoed in the sterile room, so raw that even Axel flinched. He placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, grounding them both.

The officer nodded quickly, dialing. “You’re right. Stay with me—we’ll move fast.”

Mimi pressed her fists against her thighs, trying to hold herself together, but tears still streaked her cheeks. Axel’s jaw tightened as he watched her. Hang on, Aris, he thought. We’re coming.

Back in the basement, Gabe had shifted moods again. He held a damp cloth, pressing it to the scrape on her cheek. His touch was rough, too firm, like he didn’t know how to be gentle without controlling.

“There,” he murmured. “Better already.”

She turned her head away, voice rasping. “You can’t even take care of yourself.”

From the corner, the accomplice snorted faintly. Gabe’s glare snapped like a whip. “Shut up.”

But Aris caught it—the sound of someone not entirely aligned. She stored it away like a weapon.

“Someone’s coming for me,” she whispered, fixing her gaze on Gabe. Her words slurred but carried certainty. “You know it. That’s why you’re scared.”

His jaw twitched. “I’m not scared.” His hand pressed against her shoulder, pinning her. “I finally have you.”

She held his eyes, steady despite the drugs fogging her blood. “Then you’ve already lost.”

At the station, Detective Harlow swept into the lobby, coat half-buttoned, hair rumpled like she’d been pulled from sleep. Her eyes were sharp, though, immediately reading the desperation in Axel and Mimi’s faces.

“Tell me everything,” she said. Words tumbled from them—Tobe’s collapse, Gabe’s relentless pursuit, Aris’s fight, the followers, the abduction. Harlow scribbled fast, her pen barely keeping pace.

When Mimi’s voice cracked, Axel picked up the thread, his words clipped, precise, like if he built the picture clearly enough, it would bring Aris back.

Harlow finished writing, snapped the notebook shut. “We’ll put out a BOLO on Gabe and his vehicle. Patrol cars will sweep known haunts. But I need more—does he have family property? An abandoned shop? Somewhere isolated?”

Axel and Mimi exchanged a look. Mimi’s eyes widened. “The abandoned Knight's dojo—he used to sneak there when we were kids. Said nobody ever bothered him.”

Harlow was already dialing her radio. “That’s enough. Units inbound.”

Mimi’s hands shook as she clutched Axel’s sleeve. “Please get there in time.”

Axel’s face was carved from stone. “She’ll fight until we do.”

In the hideout, Aris fought her own body. The drugs pulled at her, heavy and warm, trying to drag her under. But she clung to every jagged sensation—the burn of rope on her wrists, the ache in her shoulders, the pounding of her pulse. Anchors. Proof she was still here, still hers.

She studied Gabe with every flick of her gaze. His erratic pacing, the way his voice slid between pleading and commanding, how he sought her eyes like oxygen. He wanted her attention as much as her body. That was leverage.

And the accomplice—silent, watchful. Detached, but not immune. She’d seen the flicker when Gabe snapped at him. If she could drive a wedge, even a hairline crack, she might find space to survive.

“Does he talk to you like that too?” she asked suddenly, voice low, aimed at the accomplice. “Like you’re furniture?”

The man shifted, glanced at Gabe, then looked away.

Gabe’s hand shot to her jaw again, furious. “Don’t you dare—”

But she smiled through the ache. “Struck a nerve.”

He shook her once, sharp, before dropping his hand. His breathing was jagged, his composure slipping.

She pulled at the ropes again, feeling them bite deeper. Pain lit sparks behind her eyes. Good. Pain meant she was still here.

Hang on, she told herself. They’re coming. Hold until they break through.

Back at the station, Harlow barked orders as officers gathered, weapons checked, radios crackling. Axel and Mimi stood to the side, trembling with the restless need to act.

“You can’t just leave us here,” Axel said. His voice was steady, but there was steel under it.

“You’re civilians,” Harlow said, not unkindly. “But I promise—we’re not wasting a second.”

Mimi’s fists clenched. “She’s not just a name on your list. She’s Aris. She matters.”

Harlow met her gaze, unwavering. “I know. And we’re going to get her back.”

Back in the basement, Gabe knelt again, hands hovering near Aris’s face as though trying to memorize her. His voice softened into something childlike, pleading.

“You’ll see. You’ll see I’m the only one who can love you right. All the others—they never understood.”

Aris met his eyes, defiance blazing through the fog. “If this is love… I’d rather have none.”

The words landed like a blade. Gabe’s expression shattered, fury spilling through. He slammed a fist against the wall, the crack echoing in the small room.

The accomplice flinched.

Aris closed her eyes for one steadying breath, then opened them again, unbroken. Come quickly, she prayed silently, fiercely, not to any god but to the friends she knew were fighting for her. I’m still here. I’m still me. Just get to me in time.