Sleep didn't come.
Not for Zariah. Not really.
Her body lay still on the narrow bed in the safehouse, eyes closed, breath measured—but her mind refused to rest. It moved endlessly, slipping through layers of awareness she didn't yet know how to shut down.
Signals pulsed softly beneath the silence. Systems whispered. Networks breathed.
She could feel them.
It terrified her.
Across the room, Adrian sat against the wall, weapon resting loosely in his hand, eyes open and unblinking. He hadn't moved in hours. Not once. As if staying perfectly still could somehow hold the world in place.
"You should sleep," Zariah murmured without opening her eyes.
Adrian's gaze flicked to her immediately. "So should you."
She exhaled slowly. "I don't think I can anymore."
He didn't contradict her.
That scared her more than reassurance ever could.
She opened her eyes and pushed herself upright, the movement slow, careful. Her head throbbed faintly not pain, exactly, but pressure. Like something inside her was stretching, testing its limits.
"Adrian," she said quietly. "If I lose control…"
"You won't."
She looked at him then. Really looked. His face was drawn, shadows cutting deep beneath his eyes. He looked older than she had ever seen him not weakened, but burdened.
"You can't promise that," she whispered.
He stood and crossed the room, stopping just in front of her. Slowly, deliberately, he knelt so they were eye level.
"I'm not promising outcomes," he said. "I'm promising presence."
Her chest tightened painfully.
"That might not be enough."
"It has to be," he replied.
The silence stretched between them, thick with things neither of them knew how to say.
Then.....
Zariah flinched.
Adrian was on his feet instantly. "What?"
She pressed a hand to her temple, eyes unfocused. "Someone just… touched the perimeter."
His body went rigid. "How close?"
"Not physically," she said, breathing carefully. "Digitally. They're scanning. Probing for resonance."
Adrian swore under his breath. "That was faster than expected."
"I think I drew attention when I shut down the interference," she said softly. "It was like lighting a flare."
He stared at her. "Can you trace it?"
"I shouldn't," she replied honestly. "I don't know what it'll trigger."
A beat.
Then Adrian said, "But you can."
She nodded.
Another pause.
"Do it," he said quietly.
Zariah closed her eyes.
This time, she didn't fight the pull.
She let herself sink into it.
The world peeled open not violently, but smoothly, like slipping beneath water. She felt distance collapse. Layers aligned. Patterns emerged with frightening clarity.
There.
She followed the thread.
A hub. Mobile. Shielded. Watching from a distance.
She gasped sharply, her body tensing.
Adrian's voice cut through instantly. "What did you see?"
"A relay," she said breathlessly. "Private. Not Kellan's. Someone else."
Her eyes flew open. "They weren't just searching for me. They were measuring."
"Measuring what?" Adrian asked.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "My capacity."
The room seemed to shrink.
Adrian's expression hardened. "That means escalation."
"Yes," she said. "And coordination."
A sudden wave of dizziness hit her. She staggered, gripping the edge of the bed.
Adrian caught her immediately. "That's enough. You're pushing too far."
"I didn't even go deep," she whispered, shaken. "That's what scares me."
He helped her sit, his grip steady but gentle. "Zariah, listen to me. You don't have to solve this alone."
"But I'm the problem," she said quietly.
He stilled.
Then, firmly: "You are the reason this hasn't already collapsed."
She looked up at him, eyes burning. "You don't believe that."
"I do," he said without hesitation. "Because if you were just a weapon, they would've taken you already."
A sharp knock echoed through the safehouse.
Both of them froze.
Adrian moved to the door silently, checking the feed.
Empty hallway.
Zariah frowned. "That's not possible."
Another knock closer this time. Inside the structure.
Her pulse spiked. "Adrian"
The lights flickered violently.
Zariah cried out as a surge ripped through her awareness, raw and invasive. This wasn't probing.
This was contact.
"They found me," she gasped.
Adrian turned sharply. "How?"
"I don't know," she said, panic creeping into her voice. "They're not external they're pushing through me."
Her knees buckled.
Adrian caught her as she collapsed, her body trembling violently.
"Zariah, stay with me," he said urgently.
She clutched his shirt, breath ragged. "I can't block it. They're forcing a handshake."
"What happens if it completes?" he demanded.
Her eyes met his wide, terrified.
"They'll map everything," she whispered. "Every system. Every fail-safe. Every way to use me."
Adrian's jaw clenched.
"Then we stop it."
"How?" she cried.
He hesitated just a fraction.
Then: "By breaking the connection."
Her heart sank. "You said I couldn't "
"I didn't say you couldn't," he cut in. "I said it would cost you."
The pressure in her skull intensified, agony blooming behind her eyes. "Adrian"
He gripped her face firmly. "Look at me."
She did, tears streaming.
"You are not alone in this," he said fiercely. "You don't carry it alone. Do you understand me?"
She shook her head weakly. "I don't know how."
"Then let me in," he said quietly.
The words stunned her.
"You've been holding the line by yourself," he continued. "Stop. Let me share the weight."
Her breath hitched. "That could kill you."
"It won't," he said. "And if it does....."
"Don't," she whispered.
He leaned his forehead against hers. "Trust me."
The connection surged violently.
Zariah screamed.
And then...
She felt Adrian.
Not physically.
Something deeper.
His presence cut through the chaos like an anchor, grounding her, stabilizing the wild surge threatening to tear her apart. The invasive signal faltered, confused by the unexpected resistance.
Together, they pushed.
The connection snapped.
The silence afterward was absolute.
Zariah collapsed fully into Adrian's arms, sobbing.
He held her tightly, chest heaving. "It's done."
She shook uncontrollably. "I almost lost myself."
"But you didn't," he said.
Slowly, her breathing steadied.
Then she whispered, voice hollow, "They won't stop."
"No," Adrian agreed. "They won't."
She pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze. "Then we can't keep running."
Something dark and resolute settled into his expression.
"No," he said quietly. "We can't."
Outside the safehouse, unseen satellites realigned.
Orders were issued.
And somewhere far away, Kellan smiled.
Because the hunt had entered its most dangerous phase.