The night was thick with smoke and fear as Amira, Zion, Rosalie, Gabriel, and Lucia barricaded themselves in the dimly lit house. The distant crackle of fire echoed through the woods as Dominic's men crept closer, their flashlights bobbing like wraiths.
Amira's heart raced as she checked the old revolver Gabriel had handed her. Zion's hand brushed her shoulder, his voice low. "Stay close to me. No matter what."
She met his gaze, searching for something real in the storm of betrayal and desire swirling between them. "If we survive this," she whispered, "you owe me the truth. Every piece of it."
He nodded. "I swear it."
Suddenly, Lucia hissed from the window. "They're here."
Figures appeared beyond the treeline, guns glinting in the glow of the burning woods. Dominic's voice boomed over a loudspeaker: "Bring me Amira Fontaine. Everyone else lives."
Rosalie was pale, fingers flying over her laptop. "I've hacked their comms. They're planning to breach the north entrance in five minutes."
Amira swallowed hard, adrenaline pulsing. "Then we hold the north wall."
As gunfire rattled the house, Gabriel took position by the door, Lucia handed Zion a second rifle, and Amira stepped forward into the glow of the burning world, her voice cold and steady: "They want war? Give them hell."