The Inferno Begins

If you burn for something, let it be for war.

Celeste...

The moment Adrian's weight pressed against me, I knew he was worse off than he let on. His breaths were labored, uneven, his body weak from whatever hell they had put him through. But his grip was still firm, and his eyes—those sharp, dark eyes—still burned like embers refusing to die out.

I didn't give him time to collapse. "Come on," I murmured, tightening my hold around his waist. "We have to move."

Adrian exhaled, tilting his head slightly toward me. "You always this bossy?"

Despite everything, I smirked. "Only when I'm saving your ass."

We stepped into the hallway, the air thick with the scent of blood, rust, and sweat. The walls were cracked, lined with decades of dust and neglect, but the footsteps echoing down the corridors were very real. They were still looking for us. And they wouldn't stop until we were either dead or back in those chains.

I wasn't going to let that happen.

"Hold on to me," I whispered, pressing him against the wall for support while I scanned the corridor. I felt his fingers twitch against my arm, the only sign that his pride was bruised by the fact that he had to rely on me.

A shadow moved at the end of the hallway. Two guards. Armed. Talking in hushed tones, unaware of the storm about to hit them.

I glanced at Adrian. He caught my look, nodding slightly. He wasn't in any shape to fight, but he still had that fire in his gaze, that unshakable arrogance that said he would rather bleed out on the floor than be a burden.

I exhaled, pulling the knife from my boot. "Stay here."

He opened his mouth, probably to argue, but I was already moving.

The first guard never saw me coming. I drove my blade into his throat, catching his body before it could hit the floor. The second guard barely had time to reach for his gun before I was on him, snapping his wrist back until the weapon dropped. A hard kick to his knee sent him crumbling, and I finished the job with a sharp twist of his neck.

It was over in seconds.

I turned back to Adrian. He was watching me, his expression unreadable.

"Remind me not to piss you off," he muttered.

I arched a brow. "You already do."

He huffed a quiet laugh, then winced as he tried to straighten up. I moved beside him again, letting him lean against me. "We need to find a way out," I said. "Lorenzo won't wait long before sending more men."

"Through the loading docks," Adrian murmured, his breath shallow. "That's where they brought me in. If we move fast, we can slip out before reinforcements arrive."

I nodded. "Then let's go."

We moved quickly, each step measured. Adrian was struggling, but he refused to let me carry more of his weight than necessary. The flickering lights overhead made the whole place feel like a haunted ruin, ghosts of the past whispering through the air, their presence heavy with unfinished business.

And then, just as we turned the last corner leading to the loading docks, I saw him.

Lorenzo.

Flanked by more guards, standing between us and the exit. His face was blank, void of any remorse.

"So predictable," he mused, shaking his head. "I told them you'd never run."

My grip on my knife tightened. "You should've bet against yourself."

Lorenzo chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "Tell me, Celeste—do you really think this ends with you and Adrian walking out of here? Don't fool yourself, he is not capable of love. He will break your little heart."

I tilted my head, stepping in front of Adrian just enough to shield him. "No," I admitted. "It ends with you on the floor."

For the first time, Lorenzo's smirk faltered. Just a little.

And then we moved.

The fight erupted in chaos—bullets flying, bodies colliding. I lost myself in the rhythm of it, each movement precise, every attack calculated. Adrian fought beside me, slower than usual but just as brutal. Blood spattered against the concrete. Screams filled the air.

And then Lorenzo was in front of me, knife in hand, a wicked glint in his eye.

"You should've picked the winning side," he murmured.

I smiled—sharp, unforgiving. "I did."

The next second, my blade found his gut.

Lorenzo gasped, his eyes going wide as I twisted the knife, shoving him back. He stumbled, hands clutching at the wound, blood spilling between his fingers.

I stepped closer, voice steady. "This is for every life you've stolen. For every time you thought you could control us."

He choked on his own blood, but I didn't watch him fall.

I turned back to Adrian, who was already moving toward the exit, his face unreadable.

"I'm sorry" I said knowing Lorenzo's betrayal has left a deep cut on him.

"He deserved it" thats the only thing he said.

We didn't look back

The inferno had begun.