Page 49

He breaks the moment first. “Stay down,” he orders, but the softness ruins the command.

I nod, breath hitching.

A fresh wave of ghouls swarms the roof, tearing off the last vestige of external cameras. One of the guards shoves a plasma rifle into my hand.

“Shoot anything that isn’t us,” he says, and I almost laugh. But I grip the weapon, fingers remembering the feel.

The door on my left gives with a screech, and two predators drop in. I squeeze the trigger, blue-white fire lancing through the air. The first takes it in the chest and staggers, the second loses an arm but keeps coming, claws raking for my throat.

I jam the barrel into its mouth and fire again. Its head splits like a fruit, spray painting the interior. My hands are shaking, but not from fear.

Kang finishes off the first one, then pulls me up by the elbow. “You’re good,” he says, and there’s a trace of surprise in his voice.

I shrug. “Pattern recognition. It’s what I do.”

He grins, “Remind me never to underestimate you again.”

The next attack is worse, but the convoy adapts. The new firing pattern disrupts the breach, slows the advance. I can hear other APCs reporting similar tactics over the comm: “Fire in three, rotate, fire in three.” It’s working.

Until it doesn’t.

A shriek of metal from the lead vehicle, then a flash so bright it leaves an afterimage burned across my vision. The Humvee at the front of the column detonates in a pillar of blue fire, scattering debris and bodies a hundred meters in every direction. The shockwave flips the next two vehicles like toys, rupturing their hulls.

Through the shattered slit, I see the civilians in the third APC—still alive, hands covering their heads, the Mnemonic Suppressors on their temples blinking frantically.

They don’t move as the ghouls pour in. The soldiers in their vehicle are already dead or gone. The civilians just sit, blank-eyed, as the monsters tear them apart.

I scream, but it’s swallowed by the walls. No one hears it.

Except Kang.

He sees the carnage, jaw locking so hard the scar at his cheek pulls tight.

I grab his sleeve, voice breaking. “We can’t just leave them⁠—”

His eyes snap to mine, flaring with something raw. “I’m protecting what’s mine⁠—”

He hesitates—barely a breath—then stiffens, retreating behind protocol. “—I mean, securing the asset. Mission comes first.”

Mine.

The word detonates in my chest.

For a heartbeat I’m frozen, mind blank. Half of me melts at the sound of that claim—heat curling low and reckless—while the other half screams what the actual fuck, Diana? The whiplash is dizzying; I taste iron where I’ve bitten the inside of my cheek.

When the fog clears I’m furious.

I jerk my arm free, voice a rasped snarl. “I am no one’s possession—least of all yours, Captain. Not after the cuffs, the cages, the lies. You don’t get to claim me.”

He doesn’t flinch, but a muscle jumps in his jaw. “Focus. We move in thirty.”

“Then lead,” I spit, stepping past him, pulse a riot of anger and something far more dangerous.

Behind me, his breath hitches—just once—as if he feels the collision he’s set off but can’t afford to acknowledge it. The damage is already done. And I can’t tell if it’s outside…

or in me.

The last ghoul breaches our door, claws at my ankle. Kang grabs its head, wrenches it sideways, and snaps the neck. He stands over me, breathing hard.