Page 7 of Jetmir

“We can’t stay here.”

“But—”

“Anya, now.”

“No.”

He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the rear corridor. I fought against him, glancing behind me, desperate to see Gabriel and Amara to make sure they were alright.

He was my brother. She was my friend. I couldn’t simply leave them.

He was dragging me through the doorway as another section of the ceiling collapsed behind us. I looked over my shoulder. The foyer disappeared behind a curtain of dust.

“Gabriel!” I screamed, tugging on my hand and trying to break free from my husband. “Thorne, stop. We have to go back.”

In the next breath, I was thrown over his shoulder and he ran from the wreckage while I screamed and pounded my fists against his back.

My husband finally stopped, then lowered me to the ground, the blacktop cool beneath my bruised feet.

My lungs burned with every breath, my chest heaving as though I’d been running for miles. My bare feet were worse. Broken glass had sliced through the soles, leaving them cut and bleeding.

The streets of Vlorë were completely empty while my own world imploded. The city still slept, unaware of what had happened or perhaps simply unwilling to wake. Streetlights cast long, sickly shadows across the pavement, making the two of us look even more out of place.

Above us, the stars were beginning to disappear, swallowed one by one by the approaching dawn. The darkness that had hidden us was thinning fast.

We had to get off the streets.

Soon, the first people would wake. Shopkeepers would open their doors. Cars would fill the roads. And whatever protection the sleeping city had given us would vanish with the night.

But I didn’t care.

“You left them,” I screamed as I turned to face him. “You left my brother and Amara.”

His chest rose and fell rapidly.

“I got you out. That was the priority.”

“And them?”

“I was protecting you. I will end thousands of men and family to protect you. Gabriel and Amara have each other.”

I pounded my fists against his chest. “What is wrong with you? That’s my brother and friend.”

His jaw tightened.

“Anya—”

I shoved his chest, but he barely moved.

“You don’t get to drag me out of a burning house while my brother is trapped inside and call that protection.”

“I wasn’t going to let you die. And I wasn’t going to let him take you away from me!” he shouted.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. It was a deafening kind of silence while my husband and I stared at each other and my mind whirled with questions.

“Why would he take me away from you?” I asked slowly. He didn’t answer. “How do Amara and Gabriel know you?" Thorne reached for my hand. I reeled, taking a step back. “Answer me or I swear to God…”

I didn’t know what I would do, but I knew I needed him to give me answers.