Chapter 182

Chapter 182
The world snapped back into existence on a scream.

Siena didn’t even know it was hers until she felt her throat burning, until she tasted the metallic tang of smoke on her tongue and realized she was still clutching Damien’s shirt—his blood warm on her palms.

He collapsed against her with a heavy, terrifying weight.

“No—no, no, no—” Siena choked, trying to hold him up as they stumbled backward into the railing. “Damien, look at me. Look at me.”

His eyes were open, but dim. Shock glazed them over like frost.

Smoke swirled around them, painting everything in violent shades of orange and red. Fire clawed up the walls like it wanted to swallow the entire floor.

Behind Damien’s fallen body, Leona lowered her gun, lips curving in something between satisfaction and hunger.

“You really should’ve stayed down,” she said softly.

Damien’s body shuddered.

Siena grabbed his shoulders, pulling him tighter against her, as if her hold alone could anchor him to life.

There was blood—so much blood—pouring from the left side of his ribs where Leona’s bullet had burrowed through.

His breath hitched. “Siena…”

“Don’t talk. Don’t you dare talk like you’re—”
Her voice broke. “Damien, stay with me.”

But he was fading.

Panic snapped through her so violently it felt like something inside her tore open.

Leona stepped closer. “Take the girl—”

Siena snapped.

Not metaphorically.

Not emotionally.

Something in her snapped.

A deep, ancient instinct roared up her spine, surging through her bloodstream like wildfire. Her vision sharpened. Her pulse thundered. The smoke stopped burning her lungs and suddenly tasted like fuel.

Her fingers clawed into Damien’s shirt.

“I’m not letting you take him,” she whispered.

Leona paused, studying her with mild curiosity. “You?” She scoffed. “You can’t even lift him right now, sweetheart.”

Siena rose slowly to her feet.

Her legs trembled—not from fear, but from the force building inside her, something raw and electric and alive. She placed herself between Damien and Leona, shielding his body with her own.

“You shot him,” Siena said quietly. “So now—I’m going to make you regret it.”

Leona laughed, careless and arrogant. “And how do you plan to do that?”

Siena didn’t know.

But her body did.

Heat pooled low in her stomach, powerful and deadly. Her breaths deepened, slow and deliberate, her senses sharpening until she could hear every heartbeat in the corridor—the fast, nervous thrum of Leona’s men, the steady cold rhythm of Leona’s own pulse, the irregular, weakening beat of Damien’s heart behind her.

Something primal unspooled inside her chest.

“Siena,” Damien rasped behind her—barely a whisper, but desperate. “Run.”

“I’m not leaving you,” she said, voice trembling.

“Please…”

The word was raw. Shredded. Almost broken.

She turned her head slightly. His hand was reaching for her, fingers weak, searching.

Her fingertips brushed his.

Then Leona snapped her fingers.

“Take her.”

Three men surged forward.

Siena didn’t think—she moved.

Instinct guided her bones. Rage fueled her muscles. She grabbed the first man’s gun and slammed the barrel upward, cracking it into his jaw with a sickening snap.

He dropped instantly.

The second came from the side. Siena spun, her leg sweeping low, knocking his feet out from under him before she elbowed him in the throat. He hit the ground gasping.

The third hesitated.

Leona blinked—actually blinked—surprised.

“What—”

Siena lunged.

Her body pinned the third man against the burning wall, forearm crushing his windpipe. He dropped his gun.

She grabbed it.

Smoke stung her eyes. Sweat mixed with soot on her skin. Her heart hammered like a war drum.

The gun felt terrifyingly natural in her hand.

Leona raised her own weapon. “Put it down.”

“Try me,” Siena breathed.

The men across the corridor steadied their aim.

Two sides. Two directions. Six guns pointed her way. Fire peeling across the ceiling.

Damien bleeding out behind her.

Her chest tightened. Fear clawed up her throat, but her body held firm.

“Siena,” Damien whispered again—weak, fading, breaking her apart. “Go. Please… go.”

Tears blurred her vision. “I can’t.”

“Leona,” one soldier hissed, “the fire’s spreading—we need to get out—”

“Shut up,” Leona snarled.

Sirens wailed from outside. Concrete groaned overhead, threatening collapse.

Siena’s grip tightened on the gun.

Leona sneered. “You don’t have the guts to pull the trigger.”

Siena met her gaze.

Something dark flickered through her—a memory of pain, of cages, of nights she thought she would never see sunlight again. Of the moment Damien held her shaking body like it mattered. Of the nights he worshiped her like she was more than bruises and nightmares.

He believed in her long before she believed in herself.

Siena pressed her finger to the trigger.

“I have guts,” she whispered. “You just never bothered to look.”

A shot cracked—

But Siena didn’t fire it.

The ceiling above them exploded.

A metal beam crashed between Siena and Leona, throwing up a hail of sparks. Fire roared in, engulfing half the hallway.

Chaos erupted.

“Fall back!” someone shouted.

The building groaned—deep, shuddering, final.

Another explosion ripped through the floor below.

Flames shot upward like a pillar. Smoke surged through the stairwell.

Siena coughed violently, stumbling backward toward Damien.

Through the thick smoke, she saw Leona scrambling to her feet, hair wild, eyes blazing with fury.

“Get her!” Leona screamed.

The remaining men rushed forward.

Siena fired—one shot, two—wild, unpracticed, but enough to force them back.

She dropped the gun, grabbed Damien by the shoulders. “Damien—Damien, stay with me, please—”

He groaned, pain cracking across his expression. His face was pale beneath the blood and ash.

“You need to go,” he rasped.

“I’m not leaving without you,” she said fiercely.

“Siena…baby…” His voice cracked. “I can’t…move…”

The ceiling above them buckled. A flaming beam fell inches from Siena’s foot.

She flinched, heart pounding.

“Please,” Damien whispered, a tear slipping down his soot-streaked cheek. “Run.”

She brushed her fingertips over his lips, shaking. “We’re getting out together. You hear me?”

His hand trembled as it lifted to cup her cheek, thumb smearing soot across her skin. “Stubborn…woman…”

Fire surged closer.

Leona appeared through the smoke like a vengeful specter, coughing but alive, pointing her gun directly at Siena’s heart.

“You should’ve stayed down,” she hissed.

Siena widened her stance, shielding Damien with her body. “You’ll have to kill me first.”

“Oh,” Leona said, smiling wickedly, “I plan to.”

Her finger tightened on the trigger.

A new sound echoed from somewhere behind the smoke—a deep, hollow explosion from the lower floors.

The ground trembled.

Then—

The corridor floor gave out.

Everything lurched violently sideways.

Siena’s scream ripped out as the floor beneath her crumbled, dragging her and Damien toward the collapsing edge.

“Damien!” she cried.

She grabbed his hand, fingers locking around his wrist with desperate strength.

He slipped—blood making his skin slick—falling toward the gaping hole below.

“No—no—NO—”

She flung her body down, grabbing him with both hands. His weight nearly tore her shoulders from their sockets.

“Siena!” he shouted, dangling above the fiery abyss.

“Hold on!”

Flames raged below them. Smoke poured up, choking, burning.

Damien’s grip weakened. “Let go.”

“I won’t!”

“You’ll fall—”

“THEN WE FALL TOGETHER!”

His eyes widened—pain, love, terror—all at once.

The floor cracked again.

Leona’s voice cut through the chaos. “Let him go, Siena.”

She aimed her gun down at Damien.

Siena screamed.

“Don’t—”

But Leona fired.

The bullet struck something—stone, metal—Siena couldn’t see through the smoke. But the shot’s force shook the beam Siena clung to—

Damien slipped lower.

Siena’s fingers strained, bones screaming, arms shaking violently.

Her world narrowed to one impossible, agonizing truth:

She was losing him.

“Siena,” Damien gasped, “let go—”

“NO!”

But her grip was failing.

The heat.
The smoke.
The weight.
The pain.

Damien slipped another inch.

Leona stepped closer, aiming down at them.

“Goodbye,” she whispered.

The beam under Siena cracked—

And suddenly her hand tore free.

Damien fell.

Siena screamed his name—

As she plunged after him.