Chapter 15 – To Burn, To Live

The tunnels echoed with the sound of war.

Alek moved like a ghost through the shadows—silent, deadly, focused. He had planted charges at three key choke points in the tunnel system. Old explosives. Rusty, but still volatile.

Every step deeper into enemy territory stripped away another layer of restraint.

He wasn't just buying time.

He was unleashing himself.

For Noah.

For everything they stole.

A voice echoed in his mind—his old commanding officer:

"You are the weapon. Not the man."

Alek bared his teeth as he slipped behind a pillar, rifle cocked, pulse pounding.

Not anymore.

Flashback.

Alek, twelve.

A white room.

Strapped to a chair.

Alfa serum burning through his veins.

His first kill.

They called it a "test."

He called it the day he died.

Now, he lived again.

Because of Noah.

And he would not let them take him back.

Alek triggered the first charge.

The explosion ripped through the stone behind the enemy squad, cutting off their retreat. Screams echoed through the narrow halls.

He moved fast, firing controlled bursts.

Two soldiers down.

One more turned the corner—

Alek slammed into him, drove a blade under his ribs. Blood sprayed.

More footsteps.

Alek ducked behind a collapsed beam. His breath came in short bursts. His arm burned from a fresh graze.

He didn't stop.

He couldn't.

This was the cost of freedom.

And he would pay it in blood.

Meanwhile…

Noah waited in the dark.

Every tick of time was agony.

He clutched the old radio Calen had given him, listening to static and silence.

The tunnel trembled from a distant explosion.

Noah flinched. "Alek…"

Calen glanced back. "He knows what he's doing."

"That doesn't mean he's invincible."

"He's survived worse."

"I know. But I haven't."

Calen blinked. "You love him."

Noah hesitated. "I don't know if I have the right."

"You do."

Silence again.

Then—

The radio crackled.

"Alek?" Noah said.

Static.

Then his voice, rough, low.

"Still breathing."

Noah exhaled a shaky breath.

"Are you—?"

"Don't ask. Just get ready. I'm sending them your way."

"What?!"

"Their backup's still outside. I'm cutting the line, but we have one shot to break through to the surface. There's a hatch exit beyond Sector K-9. Calen knows it."

The radio clicked off.

Noah stared at it.

"I'm not leaving him."

Calen sighed. "Then we go meet him halfway."

Alek ran.

He bled from three wounds now. Shoulder. Hip. Forearm.

But his grip was steady.

His mind clear.

He reached the next breach point.

Planted the final charge.

Set the timer: 00:45

Then he turned.

And saw her.

Commander Reva.

Tall. Cold. Predator in human skin.

His handler.

"Hello, Alek," she said softly.

He raised his gun.

She didn't flinch.

"You're predictable. Always protecting the broken ones."

"Get out of my way."

"You won't shoot me."

"I will."

"Even if it means Noah dies?"

Alek's fingers trembled.

She smiled.

"Think, Alek. You lead them to him. You always do. You're a weapon, not a lover."

"I'm done being yours."

He fired.

She moved fast—inhumanly so.

The bullet grazed her thigh.

She winced but kept advancing.

He fired again—missed.

She tackled him.

They crashed into the wall. Her elbow slammed into his ribs. He countered with a knee to her gut.

They grappled, fists and fury.

The timer ticked: 00:17

Alek shoved her back. She raised a knife.

He parried. Slashed her arm.

She screamed.

00:08

He grabbed the remote.

00:03

Her eyes widened.

"Don't—"

00:01

Alek whispered, "For him."

He pressed the trigger.

The blast collapsed the corridor.

Dust, rock, steel.

Everything vanished in white-hot noise.

Noah screamed.

The ground shook.

The tunnel caved behind them.

"No!" he shouted, trying to run back.

Calen grabbed him. "Noah—he told you to get out!"

"He's—he's trapped—"

"Then we dig when we're safe."

Noah collapsed to his knees.

Tears streamed down his face.

Please be alive. Please.

Calen's voice broke through.

"Move. Now."

Twenty minutes later, they reached the surface.

The hatch groaned open under Calen's strength. Fresh air hit Noah's lungs like fire.

They crawled out into the dying light of evening.

The world was still.

But Noah couldn't breathe.

Not without him.

Then—

A cough.

Alek.

Dragging himself up from a slope behind them.

Bloody.

Burned.

Alive.

Noah ran to him.

Crashing into his chest. Holding him like he might vanish.

Alek grunted. "You're heavy."

"You're alive."

"Barely."

"Don't you ever do that again."

Alek buried his face in Noah's hair.

"I'd do it every day if it meant this."

That night, they found an old cabin.

Hidden. Quiet.

Alek collapsed onto the floor.

Noah cleaned his wounds. Whispered to him. Touched his scars like they were holy.

Later, when the pain dulled, Alek reached for him.

Noah didn't hesitate.

They kissed slowly.

Then faster.

Then with the desperation of people who knew every second could be their last.

Clothes fell away.

Skin against skin.

And for once, there was no battlefield—just warmth, breath, and need.

Alek lay back as Noah explored him, fingertips running down the hardened lines of his chest, the sharp dip of his stomach. He paused at each scar, kissed them softly.

"You don't have to prove anything," Noah whispered.

"I'm not," Alek murmured. "I just want you."

Their mouths met again.

Slower this time.

Noah's hands cupped Alek's face, guiding him. Alek pulled him down, wrapping his arms around Noah's waist, grounding himself in the moment.

They moved together in rhythm, not with frenzy—but with reverence.

Whispers became moans.

Caresses became need.

And when Alek groaned softly into Noah's shoulder, biting back a gasp as they moved together, the tension finally snapped between them—like a fire catching wind.

Noah bit his lip, holding on.

Alek's voice rasped, "Say it."

"What?"

"That you're mine."

"I'm yours," Noah breathed.

Again.

"I'm yours."

And Alek fell apart beneath him.

So did Noah.

Together.

Later, wrapped in the warmth of a blanket and each other, Alek kissed Noah's temple.

"We survived."

"For now," Noah said softly.

Alek smiled.

"Then let's make 'now' worth it."

And they did.

Again.

And again.

Until the past no longer screamed between them.

Only breath.

And love.