The storm had passed, but the air still crackled with the ghost of thunder. The compound was too quiet now a silence that didn't belong to peace, but to something waiting. Isabella woke first, the faint hum of machines and rainwater dripping from the ceiling whispering through her fogged mind. Her hand immediately went to her stomach, to the tiny pulse of life that had become her anchor in this collapsing world.
She was safe. For now.
But safety had never lasted long around Sebastian.
She turned her head. He was sitting by the bed, the dim light from the security monitors tracing the hard lines of his face. His shirt was torn, one sleeve darkened with dried blood. He hadn't slept. The exhaustion etched into him wasn't just physical it was the kind that came from fighting too long, from trying to save too much.
"Sebastian" her voice came out hoarse, fragile.
He looked up instantly, like her voice alone was a lifeline he'd been gripping onto.
