122
My lungs burned. Each inhale felt like fire searing through my ribs, every exhale a desperate gasp that barely scraped the surface of what I needed. My body was screaming at me to stop, my legs trembling under the weight of exhaustion, but I couldn't. Not now. Not when I was this close. The hallway stretched endlessly in front of me, an oppressive, suffocating tunnel lined with blurred faces and deafening noise. My breath came in sharp, ragged gulps, my pulse thundering against my eardrums like war drums. My head swam, my vision blackening at the edges, but I kept going, my thoughts a frenzied chant, looping over and over again. Where the fuck is Tina? Where the fuck is Tina? Where the fuck is—
And then I saw her.
A shock of platinum blonde hair stood out against the chaos, an unmistakable beacon in the sea of moving bodies. She was by a classroom door, standing rigid, gripping a child's wrist so tightly it looked like she might crush it. My entire body jerked, like I’d slammed into an invisible wall, my knees nearly buckling beneath me. My eyes shot downward, locking onto the boy. Adam. My Adam. Relief slammed into me so hard I nearly crumpled, my breath hitching, my chest tightening until it physically hurt. He was there. Right there.
He looked… older. Taller than most ten-year-olds, with the beginnings of lanky limbs that would one day stretch into something stronger. His dark brown hair was slightly overgrown, curling at the ends, sticking to his forehead with sweat. His wide green darted around in confusion, brows pinched, mouth slightly parted like he wanted to ask something but couldn’t find the words. His small fingers flexed, the tension in them visible, but he didn’t pull away from Tina. He just stood there, stiff, uncertain, his gaze flicking between her and something—or someone—inside the classroom.
My heart pounded so violently it felt like it was cracking my ribs apart. I forced my legs to move, pushing myself harder, harder, every muscle in my body on the verge of collapse. The voices behind me grew louder, sharp, urgent. "Hey!"
I didn’t look back. I couldn't. Alaric's men were chasing me, their heavy shoes slamming against the polished floors, their shouts slicing through the air like blades. My breath hitched, my pulse skyrocketing, but my eyes stayed locked on Tina and Adam. They weren’t moving. Why the fuck weren’t they moving?
A new spike of fear lanced through me. They were talking to someone. Tina’s body was half-turned toward the open doorway, her posture tight, defensive, like she was bracing for something. Adam stood close to her, practically pressed against her side, still gripping his school bag like it was the only solid thing in his world.
Who were they speaking to? And why did it feel like something was terribly, terribly wrong?
The moment I reached the classroom, a hand shot out and yanked me inside with enough force to make my entire body jolt. My head slammed against something solid—someone solid. A thick, guttural groan rumbled in response, vibrating through the chest I had just crashed into. My breath hitched violently in my throat, and before I could even fully register what had happened, the door behind me slammed shut with a deafening finality.
The sound echoed in my skull, swallowed by the blood-pounding rush in my ears. My body stiffened, my muscles wound so tight they threatened to snap. My hands flew up instinctively, shoving against the person’s chest as I stumbled backward, already bracing myself for another fight, another chase. But then—
I looked up.
And the breath that had been burning in my throat turned to ice.
Domi-fucking-nic.
My heart lurched violently in my chest. My stomach twisted so hard I nearly collapsed right then and there, my knees threatening to buckle beneath me. I choked on air, my lips parting in disbelief, my lungs still raw from running. No. No. This wasn’t real. This was a hallucination brought on by exhaustion, a cruel trick my overworked, terrified mind was playing on me. Because Dominic was dead. I had seen him get shot. I had seen him fall. I had grieved him, cried for him, mourned the loss of him until I was sick to my stomach. But here he was, standing right in front of me, like a fucking phantom ripped straight out of my worst nightmares.
His green eyes glowed under the dim, fluorescent classroom lights—brighter than I remembered, sharper, cutting through me like a blade. His dark brown hair was slightly longer than before, tousled like he had just run his hands through it too many times. He was broader, stronger, an older version of the boy I used to know. But the smirk—the smug, cocky smirk pulling at the corner of his lips—was the same. Unchanged. Infuriating. Like he wasn’t supposed to be fucking dead.
I gasped for air, my vision tunneling. “No,” I whispered, my voice cracking, raw and disbelieving. “No. No, no, no, no—this isn’t real.”
Dominic cocked his head, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched me unravel. “Hey, sweetheart,” he drawled, voice slow, deliberate. Like he was enjoying this. Like he enjoyed watching me fall apart. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I couldn’t fucking breathe. My hands trembled violently at my sides. My entire body shook, my brain struggling to process what the hell was happening. “I saw you die,” I croaked, my throat squeezing around every word. “I saw— I— I—”
“You saw what you were meant to see.” His smirk deepened, his eyes darkening with something unreadable, something that sent ice snaking down my spine. “Guess I’m harder to kill than you thought.”
A strangled sound clawed its way out of my throat, a mix of panic, fury, and overwhelming, gut-wrenching disbelief. I wanted to scream. I wanted to punch him. I wanted to throw up. My legs wobbled, and for a second, I thought I might actually collapse. My entire world had just tilted on its fucking axis, and I couldn’t keep up. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think.
Dominic took a step closer, closing the distance between us, his presence swallowing me whole. “Miss me?”
Something inside me snapped.
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