No Turning Back

Elena couldn't sleep.

She lay awake in her room, staring at the ceiling, Malcolm's words echoing in her head.

"She's a liability, Xavier. And you know what happens to liabilities in this world."

A shiver ran through her. She knew Xavier was powerful, dangerous even. But this was something else. Malcolm had made it clear—whoever these people were, they saw her as a threat. And threats were eliminated.

She turned on her side, gripping the sheets. Was this her life now? Constantly looking over her shoulder, waiting for the moment someone decided she wasn't worth keeping around?

A knock on the door made her jump.

"Elena." Xavier's voice was low, firm.

She hesitated before getting up and opening the door.

He stood there, looking as tense as she felt. His black shirt was unbuttoned at the top, his sleeves rolled up, revealing the veins in his forearms. His eyes held something unreadable, something dark.

"Pack a bag," he said.

She blinked. "What?"

"You're leaving tonight."

Elena's stomach twisted. "You're sending me away?"

His jaw clenched. "I'm protecting you."

She shook her head. "You don't get to make that decision for me."

His hands curled into fists at his sides. "Yes, I do."

"No, you don't!" Her voice rose. "I'm not just some problem you can move around like a chess piece, Xavier! This is my life too."

His eyes darkened, but he didn't snap at her. Instead, he took a step closer, his voice quieter but more intense. "If you stay, they will come for you, Elena. Do you understand that? They won't warn you next time. They will just take you."

She swallowed hard, but she didn't back down. "And then what? I run forever?"

Xavier exhaled sharply. "I won't let them touch you."

Something in his voice made her shiver.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

His gaze held hers, steady and unrelenting. "End this."

---

The Choice

Elena stood frozen, staring at him.

He meant it. He would fight for her, kill for her. The realization should have scared her. Maybe it did. But more than anything, it made her heart ache.

She took a deep breath. "If I leave, what happens to you?"

Xavier's expression hardened. "That's not your concern."

"But it is," she whispered. "You think I can just walk away and pretend none of this happened?"

His jaw tightened. "That's exactly what I want you to do."

She shook her head. "No."

"Elena—"

"No!" Her voice cracked. "I'm not leaving, Xavier."

A muscle in his jaw twitched. "You're being reckless."

"Maybe I am," she admitted. "But so are you."

He let out a frustrated breath, running a hand through his hair. "Damn it, Elena."

She stepped closer, her voice softer now. "I trust you, Xavier. But I need you to trust me too."

His eyes searched hers for a long moment, and then, with a quiet curse, he reached out and pulled her into his arms.

His embrace was firm, desperate. Like he was holding onto something he was afraid of losing.

"I don't want to lose you," he admitted against her hair.

"You won't."

But deep down, she knew—this was only the beginning.

The war had started.

And there was no turning back.

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