Chapter 14 – Before the Ashes Fall

The world narrowed to pain and silence.

Noah's breathing came in shallow gasps as Alek pressed a hand against his side, trying to slow the bleeding. The wound wasn't fatal—but it was stealing strength he couldn't afford to lose.

"We have to move," Alek whispered. "They're sweeping east. If we stay, we'll be boxed in."

Noah tried to sit up, but his limbs trembled. "I can walk."

Alek stared at him, jaw clenched. "I know."

Because he always did. Noah never lied about his limits.

Alek helped him to his feet, supporting most of his weight. The forest was alive now—blades of light slicing through the dark, shouts in the distance, dogs barking. The enemy was methodical. Unforgiving.

Alek took the lead, guiding Noah through a maze of boulders and ravines. They moved with purpose, not speed—calculating, quiet.

They didn't speak again until they reached the edge of an old service tunnel—part of an abandoned mining network Alek had memorized years ago.

He pressed a hand to the cold steel hatch, still hidden beneath ivy.

Locked.

Noah leaned on a tree, pale but alert. "You sure this is a good idea?"

Alek gave a tight nod. "It's either this, or risk open terrain with bloodhounds on us."

He worked quickly—pulling a rusted key from inside his boot. It slipped into the ancient lock, grinding with resistance before clicking open.

They slipped inside.

The tunnel swallowed them whole.

The darkness was total.

Only Alek's small flashlight guided the way, its beam cutting through the dust and spiderwebs. The air was stale, dry, filled with echoes of a time long gone.

"Where are we?" Noah murmured.

"A tunnel that connects to the outer sectors. It was used during the war to move weapons—and people. Mostly Omegas trying to escape conscription."

Noah's voice was faint. "People like me."

Alek paused.

"No," he said softly. "Not like you."

He didn't explain.

But Noah understood.

Because Alek didn't see him as weak, or prey, or broken.

He saw him as his.

Hours passed in tense silence.

They walked. Rested. Walked again.

Noah leaned against the wall, exhaustion finally anchoring him.

Alek dropped his bag, crouching beside him. "We can stop here."

He pulled out a thermal blanket and wrapped it around Noah's shoulders.

"You should sleep."

Noah shook his head. "Too many dreams."

"Then I'll stay awake."

"You always do."

Alek looked at him then.

Really looked.

The blood-streaked cheeks. The stubborn set of his jaw. The way his eyes still burned, even through the haze of pain.

"Why?" Noah asked, suddenly. "Why me?"

Alek didn't answer right away.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe because when I looked at you… I didn't feel like a weapon anymore."

Noah's breath caught.

And then, without meaning to, he laughed.

It was dry, broken, but real.

"You're terrible at romantic confessions."

"I wasn't trained for them."

"Clearly."

Alek moved closer, resting a hand against the wall beside Noah's head. The flashlight cast soft shadows over both of them.

"You scare me," Alek murmured.

"Why?"

"Because you make me want things I don't deserve."

Noah looked up, eyes dark.

"Then take them anyway."

The kiss was slow.

Not the way Alek kissed when rage ruled him.

But soft. Hesitant. Like someone tracing the edges of something fragile.

Noah's hands curled into Alek's shirt. He pulled him closer, their lips moving in rhythm—quiet, deep.

Alek pressed their foreheads together, breathing ragged.

"Tell me to stop."

Noah whispered, "Don't you dare."

Alek groaned softly, tilting his head to kiss him again—deeper this time. His hands moved to Noah's waist, careful around the bandage.

Noah arched into the touch.

His shirt rose. Skin met skin.

Warmth bloomed between them—slow, burning, inevitable.

Noah gasped as Alek kissed down his jaw, to the curve of his throat. His lips lingered there, reverent. Possessive.

"I shouldn't want this," Alek whispered.

"But you do."

"Yes."

"Then let go."

Alek did.

Their movements were clumsy at first—bodies learning again. Alek held Noah as though he were both flame and anchor, something to be worshipped and protected at once.

Noah's breath hitched. His fingers tangled in Alek's hair.

Time slowed.

Only the cave's quiet breath bore witness to the way they unraveled into each other—intimate, not just in body, but in trust.

They didn't go further.

Not all the way.

But it was enough.

Enough to remind them they were still alive.

Still theirs.

Later, they lay together.

Noah's head rested on Alek's chest. Their legs tangled beneath the blanket. The quiet was warm, safe, almost normal.

"If we make it out," Noah whispered, "what happens next?"

Alek didn't answer immediately.

Then:

"We find somewhere no one can touch us."

"You think that place exists?"

"I'll build it if I have to."

Noah smiled. "Sounds exhausting."

"I've done worse."

They were silent again.

Until Noah asked, "Do you think people like us can have peace?"

"I think we have to fight for it. Over and over."

"I'm tired of fighting."

"Then I'll fight for both of us."

They slept.

But only for an hour.

Alek woke with his pulse hammering.

Not from danger.

From instinct.

Something had changed.

A presence.

He sat up quickly, grabbing the flashlight.

There—at the far end of the tunnel—a faint light blinked.

Green.

Soft.

A signal?

Noah stirred. "What's wrong?"

"We're not alone."

He moved fast, quiet, rifle ready.

The green light pulsed again.

Then a voice—low, male, and distorted through static.

"Hold fire. I'm not one of them."

Alek narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"

"I was a medic," the voice said. "They left me here to die. I've been watching your path. I can help you."

Alek's finger twitched on the trigger. "Why would you?"

"Because I've seen what they do to Omegas."

Noah sat up now, alert. "What's your name?"

"Calen."

Alek didn't lower his weapon.

But he didn't fire.

The man stepped into view—mid-thirties, gaunt, hands raised. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. A scar crossed one eye. He wore the remnants of a soldier's uniform.

"I know a way out," Calen said. "But it's dangerous."

Alek exhaled slowly.

Everything was dangerous now.

"What's your price?"

Calen looked at Noah.

"Let me come with you when this is over."

Alek nodded once.

"Then lead."

They followed him through narrow passageways deeper into the tunnel system. Calen moved like someone who had nothing left to lose.

"We'll need a diversion," he said. "Something to throw them off."

"I'll do it," Alek offered immediately.

Noah grabbed his arm. "No."

"Someone has to," Alek said.

"I said no."

Their eyes locked. There was no anger—only fear.

Alek touched his face.

"I'll come back."

"You better."

They kissed once, fast. Then Alek vanished down the tunnel.

Calen looked at Noah. "He's not what I expected."

Noah's lips tightened. "Neither am I."

The tunnel ahead waited.

And behind them, the enemy closed in.