Clara's POV
"Do you have faith in me?" His voice was low, desperate, as he pressed his back against the splintering door. It was a question filled with more than the occasion demanded—more than I was ready to answer.
I swallowed hard, unwilling to meet Marcus's eyes. "Trust you?" I sneered, but my hands shook around the sword I grasped tightly. "Is that what we're doing now? Trusting each other?"
His jaw clenched. The exertion of keeping back whatever force was trying to break through the door was visible in the tension of his muscles and the sweat on his brow. "There's no time for this, Clara."
The door collapsed inward, wood groaning under pressure. Shadows moved in the gaps, twisted figures of Selena's minions—relentless, vicious, and too near for comfort.
"We need to go," I murmured, my voice rougher than I wanted. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but Marcus wasn't moving.
"Not until you answer turned his head just enough for me to see the sorrow in his eyes. "Do you trust me?"
The air between us thickened, packed with danger and something even more terrible. I wanted to yell at him, to tell him I didn't trust anyone, least of all him. But the words wouldn't come. Instead, I found myself nodding, a nonverbal agreement that screamed volumes. I despised him for asking. Hated myself for saying yes.
happy—or as happy as he could be—Marcus grasped my hand. "This way." He took me into a short tunnel hidden behind a bookshelf, his grasp tight but not painful. We went fast, the faint light making every step dangerous. I could hear the hammering of my heartbeat, the excitement flowing through my veins.
The path led into a chilly, gloomy cavern. I trembled, wondering if it was from the chill or the presence of the guy who had previously wrecked my existence.
"What is this place? I inquired, searching the stone walls, the faint engravings that told of ancient times and forgotten ceremonies.
"A last resort," Marcus remarked solemnly. He removed my hand, walking away. "It won't hold them for long, but it might buy us time."
"Time for what?" I demanded, frustration pouring up. "To reminisce about how we got here? To—"
"To survive." His eyes met mine, strong and unrelenting. "To make sure they don't get what they came for."
"And what is that, exactly?" I demanded, coming closer. "Me? Because if that's true, you should have let me leave. I'm not worth—"
"Don't." The single phrase was a warning, a plea. He closed the space between us in one stride, his hands grabbing my shoulders. "Don't ever say you're not worth it. Not to me."
The air crackled. I felt his breath, warm on my skin, the heat of his touch kindling something I'd attempted to ignore. "This is pointless," I murmured, but my voice deceived me. It trembled.
"Is it?" Marcus's gaze slid to my lips, and for one perilous moment, I wanted to forget everything—the anguish, the treachery, the enemies knocking at our door. "Tell me you don't feel it."
I opened my mouth to deny it, to push him away. But then he kissed me. It was nothing like the kisses we'd had previously, back when we were two stupid souls entwined in each other's arms. This kiss was frantic, raw—a collision of fury, remorse, and the optimism none of us dared to speak.
I kissed him back. I despised myself for it, but I couldn't stop. My hands knotted in his hair, bringing him closer. The taste of him was intoxicating, a hazardous drug I'd sworn off. When we came apart, panting for oxygen, I saw the same fight raging in his eyes.
"We can't," I muttered, more to myself than him. "This changes nothing."
"It changes everything," he replied, his voice husky. "Whether you admit it or not."
A tremendous boom overhead reminded us of the reality we'd briefly forgotten. Our opponents were near—too close.
"We need to move," I replied, shaking off the cloud. "You have a plan, don't you?"
His lips twisted into a humorless grin. "Don't I always?"
"Yeah." I couldn't keep the hatred out of my voice. "And it always ends so well."
He didn't answer. Instead, he walked to a small, elaborately carved panel on the wall. Pressing his fingers on it, he whispered things in a language I didn't identify. The wall moved, revealing a secret corridor.
I went forward, but he stretched out a hand to stop me. "Once we go through here, there's no turning back."
"Story of my life," I muttered, shoving past him. "Let's go."
The corridor was tiny, the air oppressive. I could feel Marcus close behind me, his presence both soothing and oppressive. We emerged into a tunnel filled with crystals that sparkled with an eerie brightness. It would have been magnificent if not for the danger pursuing us.
"What now?" I questioned, turning to face him. The illumination made his features crisper, more distinct. For a minute, I saw the guy I'd once loved—the man who'd shattered me—and I despised him all over again.
"We make a stand," he replied, resolving to harden his face. "Together."
Before I could react, the ground rocked. Selena's messengers had discovered us.
"Together?" I sneered, lifting my sword. "Don't make promises you can't keep."
He moved beside me, his own weapon ready. "This time, I intend to keep it."
The shadows surged. We battled as one, our moves a lethal dance. The past and present collided with every stroke, every collision of metal. We were back-to-back, instincts completely matched. For a while, I nearly felt we could win.
But suddenly the tallest of the messengers walked forward—a monster of dread, towering and wrapped in darkness. It spoke, its voice a frightening echo. "Surrender the girl."
Marcus snarled, moving protectively in front of me. "Never."
"Foolish Alpha." The creature's eyes blazed crimson. "You can't protect what you've already broken."
It lunged. Marcus faced it head-on, their clash rocking the cavern. I fought off the others, every strike a struggle not just for survival, but for the delicate trust we'd begun to rebuild. But the emissary was too strong. It pushed Marcus aside like he was nothing.
"Marcus!" I yelled, my chest tense with panic. He didn't move.
The thing turned to me, a nasty smirk on its twisted face. "It's over."
"Not yet," I screamed, harnessing every ounce of wrath, every memory of anguish. Light blazed around me, blinding and uncontrollable.
The monster halted, hesitation flaring in its eyes. But then it laughed—a dismal, hollow sound. "You don't even know what you are."
With a shout, I unleashed the power inside me. The cavern shook, crystals cracking. Light and darkness collided, a whirlwind of primal force. When the dust settled, I was on my knees, tired. The thing was gone—or at least, for now.
Marcus crawled to me, injured but alive. "Clara…"
I met his gaze, the weight of everything slamming down. "Don't," I said, my voice cracking. "Just… don't."
He grabbed for me, but before he could speak, another tremor rocked the cavern.This time, it wasn't our doing. The walls cracked, rocks plummeting.
"We have to get out," Marcus continued, his voice rough with urgency. "Now."
I nodded, scarcely able to stand. He supported me, his arm tight around my waist. We lurched toward the exit, but I knew—we were running out of time. And this was far from done.