Chapter 52 The Fall of the Luna
Evie:
We broke through the worst of the ambush, tearing down the ridge road with smoke trailing behind us. For a second—one bloody, impossible second—the attackers stopped firing. And for that one impossible second, I thought it was over.
The skimmer leveled out.
My lungs dragged in a shaky breath that tasted like metal and adrenaline.
Harrow slumped against the console, blood dripping from his temple. He let out a strangled, breathless laugh.
“We... we actually did it,” he rasped, eyes shining with exhausted disbelief.
I wanted to believe him.
I wanted to think we’d slip away, get one clean break, survive one goddamn hour.
My hands were still shaking on the controls, knuckles white. Every nerve felt raw, stretched thin like wire ready to snap.
A shadow glided behind us: silent, controlled, too coordinated to be one of the usual hit squads.
A darker vehicle, matte black, no headlights, no engine growl.
Professional.
Precise.
Even from a distance, I could feel the discipline in their movements; the calm hunger of people trained to kill cleanly.
And the way it moved… tight formation, calculated angles, the kind of maneuvering only Knight Elite units trained for.
Grayson once showed me those patterns. Offhand. “In case you ever need to recognize them.”
The memory stabbed me before I could shove it away.
Not now.
Not now.
Then:
The vehicle rammed us with brutal force.
No warning.
No time to brace.
The skimmer lurched violently forward, my body slamming into the dashboard. Glass exploded around us in sharp silver flecks.
As the skimmer tipped forward, a flash of metal on the approaching vehicle caught my eye.
The faint outline of a crest that had been scraped off but not completely erased. Just a ghost of a shape, but familiar enough to freeze something inside my chest.
No.
Impossible.
My brain refused to form the name, but it hovered there anyway, cold and sharp, even as gravity ripped us over the edge.
Metal screamed like it was being peeled apart.
The rear lifted.
The cliff railing caught us. It groaned with the weight and started to bend, then tore free.
The world paused for a heartbeat, suspended like the universe had inhaled. like everything happening in slow motion.
The sky above was pale and endless.
The sea below opened like a black mouth.
Bits of reality floated around me:
Shattered glass, twisting metal, debris spinning weightlessly.
Harrow’s arm reaching.
Sunlight flashing off a broken hinge.
Black cars swerving behind us.
I grabbed the wheel by instinct.
“HOLD ON!!!”
Harrow shouted something, but the wind shredded his voice.
The skimmer pitched over the cliff edge.
The coastline blurred. The city flipped.
Gravity vanished...
...and then we fell.
Air roared past the broken windows, ripping at my clothes, my hair, every inch of exposed skin. My stomach shot into my throat.
The world inverted, towers shrinking above, the ocean rising fast,
Blue and black and endless.
Then came the impact.
The sea didn’t cushion us.
It hit like a stone, a blunt, merciless blow that knocked thought clean out of my head. For a heartbeat, there was only silence.
Ice-cold water punched the air out of my chest. My ears rang. My vision shattered into bubbles and darkness.
Up and down ceased to exist.
Something sharp sliced my shoulder open.
Blood curled through the water in red-black threads.
The skimmer twisted somewhere near me: groaning, breaking apart, sinking like a wounded animal.
Panic clawed at my ribs.
I kicked blindly, desperately,
A hand clamped around my wrist.
Harrow.
His grip was iron despite the tremor in his arm. His claws were half-extended, desperate and terrified.
He dragged me upward through the wreckage, fighting the pull of the sinking metal.
We broke the surface in a violent burst.
Air.
Wind.
Salt slamming into my lungs.
I gasped, coughing seawater, waves battering us back down. The ocean heaved like it wanted to finish the job.
“Evie...!” Harrow choked out. “Stay with me!”
I reached for him, almost grabbed his hand...
almost...
Our fingers brushed.
Then another black car hit the water nearby and detonated.
The shockwave tore through the ocean, ripping Harrow’s grip from mine.
Pain shot through my chest as water slammed over me.
The sea swallowed me again.
I tumbled, spinning, limbs hitting metal and rock and water.
My lungs screamed.
My ribs burned with every second I couldn’t breathe.
I broke the surface for half a second, just enough to drag in air,
“HARROW!” I choked.
He was a few meters away, one arm limp, the other paddling weakly, eyes wild with fear.
“EVIE...!”
A wave crashed over him.
Another slammed into me, dragging me back under.
The currents were vicious, cold hands grabbing my legs, dragging me sideways, deeper, darker.
I kicked. Fought.
Hit jagged metal.
I felt pain explode down my shin.
The ocean didn’t care.
It wanted me.
I clawed upward again, lungs tearing, my hand slicing into the air, and I gasped to get some air into my lungs
Saw Harrow slammed against rocks, fighting the waves with everything left in him.
“EVIE!” he screamed.
His voice reached me. But the sea reached faster.
A vortex sucked at my legs with brutal force, yanking me down so hard my spine snapped with pain.
I reached for anything: air, light, Harrow, but my fingers closed around nothing.
The surface blurred.
The world faded to blue, then black.
My chest seized. My vision dimmed.
The pressure crushed my ribs. Somewhere above, sunlight fractured into ribbons. I reached toward it, half believing I could still touch the world I was losing.
And in that final, drowning moment, when panic turned eerily quiet, one horrible thought cut through the dark:
This attack wasn’t random. Someone knew our exact route.
Someone close. Someone who shouldn’t have. Someone like...
Grayson?
Impossible... But it flashed anyway.
He wouldn't. But he had hated me for Chloe's death, hated me enough to marry me only to make me suffer.
I had believed him again and again, like a fool.
Then the current pulled me under...
And everything went dark.