No One Owns Me

Chapter 21 — Taken

The next three days blur into one long stretch of hospital white. Routine checks, rib bandages, pain medication, the same questions asked over and over. And through it all—Ward. He never leaves for long. Sometimes he reads in the armchair, elbows on his knees, eyes half-lidded but always watching me. Sometimes we talk about nothing important: bikes, the coast, the way Drake snores. Sometimes we sit in perfect silence, and it feels lighter than any conversation.

Duncan notices. So does Mia. Neither says a word—until the second night, when Duncan finds Ward fast asleep in the chair, head tipped back against the wall. He pulls a chair up beside my bed.

“You need him,” he says quietly. It isn’t a question.

I glance at Ward, then back. “I don’t know what I need anymore.”

“I think you do.” He smiles, sad and soft. “And I think he needs you just as much.”

My throat tightens. “You’re not angry? About… everything?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t understand every part of it. But I know what it looks like when someone would burn the world down just to keep you safe. I know Ward would never hurt you on purpose. Not really.” He squeezes my hand. “When you’re old enough to choose whatever you want… I’ll still threaten him. Just so we’re clear.”

A laugh bubbles up, warm and real. “Fair enough.”

Three days later, the doctor finally signs my release papers. I step out into the corridor and Ward is already there, leaning against the wall with my bag slung over his shoulder.

“Ready to get out of here?”

“More than.” I reach for the bag. “I can carry that.”

“I know.”

“And I can walk perfectly well.”

“I know.”

“And I don’t need constant looking after.”

“I know.”

I stare at him. “Then why do you keep doing it?”

He holds the passenger door open for me. “Because I want to. That’s all.”

I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling as I climb in.

Duncan hugs me tight before we leave, careful of my ribs. “Text me the second you get back. No exceptions.”

“I will.”

Mia hugs me next. It’s still awkward—too careful, too much unsaid—but I wrap my arms around her too. “I’ll see you soon.”

She nods, eyes glistening. “Soon.”

The road stretches out ahead, quiet and familiar. I lean my head against the window. “I’m glad you’re here,” I say, so quiet I almost don’t hear it myself.

Ward glances over. “Me too. More than you know.”

Ten minutes pass. Then something catches my eye in the reflection.

“Ward. Don’t look round.” My voice drops. “Black saloon. Been there since we left the hospital.”

He checks the rear-view mirror, jaw tightening. “Five minutes? Longer?”

“About that.”

He presses his foot down. The car behind matches speed.

“Crown?”

“Likely.”

A heavy black SUV pulls out from a side turn and blocks the road ahead. Ward swears under his breath.

“They’ve boxed us in. Hold on.”

He yanks the wheel hard, tearing down a narrow lane lined with hedges. The SUV follows, engine roaring. My heart hammers against my ribs. Another van skids across the road ahead, cutting off every exit.

Ward slams the brakes. We stop inches from its bumper.

Before we can move, men pour from every vehicle. Doors fly open. Ward grabs for the weapon under his seat—too late. A brick smashes through the driver’s window. Cold hands grab me, yanking me out before I can scream.

“WARD!”

He fights like a wild thing—lands a hard punch to one man’s jaw, shoves another aside—but there are too many. They drag him back, pinning his arms.

“CASEY!”

I kick and thrash, but a thick cloth is pressed over my mouth. The air burns sweet and sharp. My vision swims. Through the haze, I see Ward straining against his captors, his eyes wild. Our fingers brush for one heartbeat—then I’m pulled away. The world spins. The last thing I hear before it goes dark is his voice, breaking:

“TAKE ME INSTEAD! TAKE ME!”

I come to with a throbbing skull and tight rope biting into my wrists and ankles. I’m lying on cold, damp concrete. A single bare bulb swings overhead, casting long shadows. Panic surges hot and fast—I twist, pull, kick, but the knots hold fast.

A slow clap echoes from the dark.

“You really are remarkably hard to keep hold of, Casey.”

My blood turns to ice. I lift my head.

Lorenzo steps into the light, hands in his pockets, smiling like we’re meeting for tea.

“You.”

“Welcome back.” He crouches beside me, his voice soft as silk. “I’ve missed that fire.”

“Go to hell.” I yank against my bonds. “Where’s Isabella? Where’s my sister?”

His smile fades just a little. “Safe. For now.”

“And Ward?”

He laughs, low and sharp. “You’re still thinking about him? Even now?”

“Always.”

He studies me, tilting his head. “You’ve changed. Once you ran from everyone who cared. Now you fight for them. Interesting.” He stands, dusting off his trousers. “That’s exactly why you’re here.”

My stomach drops. “What do you want?”

“Simple.” He walks toward the heavy metal door. “I want your sister. I want the truth about the heir. And I want you to help me take control of the Crown.”

He glances back, eyes cold and bright. “Two girls, two halves of a prophecy. I just need to find out which one breaks it… and which one wears it.”

The door slams shut. The lock turns.

I pull at the ropes until my wrists burn. No give. No way out.

I close my eyes, forcing myself to breathe. Don’t panic. Don’t cry. He wants you broken. Don’t give him that.

Somewhere out there, Ward is alive. Duncan, Mia, Isabella—they know I’m gone. They’re coming. They won’t stop.

I stare at the blank door, and whisper it like a promise:

“I’m waiting. Come find me.”