ZARIAH POV
Fire exploded toward my face.
I didn't have time to scream. Didn't have time to move.
Kael's shadows erupted between us like a shield, swallowing the flames whole. The temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees in an instant.
"Bad choice," Kael said softly.
His shadows grabbed the intruder by the throat and slammed her against the wall so hard the concrete cracked. She gasped, clawing at the darkness choking her.
"Who sent you?" Kael's voice was death itself.
"Genesis—" she wheezed. "They know—about the healer—"
"How many more are coming?"
She smiled through the pain. "Enough."
Kael's eyes glowed brighter. The shadows tightened.
The woman's neck snapped with a sound like breaking wood.
He dropped her body carelessly and turned to me. "Are you hurt?"
I stared at the corpse. At how easily he'd killed her. At how little it seemed to affect him.
"No," I whispered. "I'm not hurt."
But I was lying. Because seeing death up close—casual, efficient, necessary—hurt something inside me that the apocalypse hadn't quite killed yet.
Lysander burst through the door, rifle raised. "I heard—" He saw the body. "Damn it. How did she get past the perimeter?"
"Fire user. B-rank, probably. She burned through the roof access." Kael's jaw was tight. "Genesis is moving faster than expected. We need better defenses."
"Or we need to get rid of the target they're hunting." Lysander looked at me meaningfully.
The words hit like a slap. Get rid of me. Because I was too much trouble. Too dangerous to keep around.
Just like Thorne thought. Just like everyone thought.
"No." Kael's voice was flat. Final. "She stays. Triple the guards. I want zombies on the roof, in the stairwells, at every entrance. Nothing gets in without me knowing."
"That's going to drain your energy keeping that many controlled—"
"I don't care. Do it."
Lysander left, muttering under his breath.
I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands shaking. "You should listen to him. I'm just going to get you killed."
"If I die protecting you, that's my choice." Kael crouched in front of me. "But I'm not going to die. And neither are you."
"You can't promise that."
"Watch me."
His confidence should have been comforting. Instead, it terrified me. Because people who made promises like that always broke them.
I woke up to sunlight.
Real sunlight streaming through a window with actual glass. Not broken. Not covered in blood.
For a second, I forgot where I was. Forgot about the apocalypse, about zombies, about being the cure.
Then I smelled food.
My stomach cramped so hard I gasped. When was the last time I'd eaten real food? The granola bars didn't count.
I stumbled out of bed, following the smell.
The warehouse's common area had been turned into something almost normal. Tables. Chairs. People eating breakfast and talking in low voices.
They all stopped and stared when I entered.
I froze, suddenly aware of how I must look. Dirty. Thin. Black veins crawling up my arms like some kind of disease.
"Is that her?" someone whispered.
"The healer?"
"She looks half-dead."
A tray slammed down on the table, making everyone jump.
A woman with fire-red hair and golden eyes glared at the room. "Anyone got a problem with the boss's guest?"
Silence.
"Didn't think so." She turned to me, her fierce expression melting into a grin. "You must be Zariah. I'm Raven. Sit down before you fall down."
I sat. Mostly because my legs wouldn't hold me anymore.
Raven shoved the tray toward me. Real food. Eggs. Bread. Even fruit that looked only slightly bruised.
"Eat," she commanded. "You look like a skeleton."
I picked up the fork with shaking hands. The first bite of eggs made me want to cry. Real food. Warm. Delicious.
"Easy," Raven warned. "Small bites or you'll throw up. Trust me, I've seen it happen."
I forced myself to eat slowly even though I wanted to inhale everything.
"So," Raven said, sitting across from me. "Did the scary boss man kidnap you? Because if he did, I can help you escape. I mean, he'd probably kill me for it, but you look like you need help."
I choked on a laugh. "He saved me, actually."
"From what?"
"Genesis soldiers. Starvation. Myself." I met her eyes. "He's the first person who didn't leave me to die."
Something shifted in Raven's expression. Understanding, maybe. Or sympathy.
"Then we're friends now," she declared. "And anyone who hurts you answers to me. Even Kael. Especially Kael if he gets all cold and commanding again."
Warmth bloomed in my chest. The first real warmth since before the world ended.
"You don't even know me."
"Don't need to. Anyone who survives two weeks alone and comes out still caring about people is worth protecting." She grinned. "Plus, I like your purple eyes. They're badass."
I found myself smiling. Actually smiling. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. You haven't seen me fight. I'm terrifying."
The door opened. Kael walked in, his presence immediately commanding attention. Everyone straightened. Got quiet.
His silver eyes found me immediately. "You're awake."
"Observant," I said before I could stop myself.
Raven snorted into her coffee.
Kael's expression didn't change. "You'll demonstrate your healing today. We have an infected survivor in the lower level. You'll cure him."
Not a question. Not a request. A command.
Something hard crystallized in my chest. I was tired of being commanded. Tired of being pushed around. Tired of people treating me like a tool instead of a person.
"Make me," I said quietly.
The room went deadly silent.
Kael's eyes narrowed. "What?"
"I said make me." I stood, even though my legs shook. "You want me to heal someone? Ask. Don't order."
His shadows coiled around him, agitated. "I don't ask."
"Then I don't heal."
We stared at each other across the room. His power versus my stubborn refusal to break.
Raven whistled low. "This is getting interesting."
"Zariah." Kael's voice dropped dangerously low. "The man downstairs is dying. He was bitten protecting children from a horde. He deserves—"
"Then you should have started with that instead of commanding me like I'm your property." My voice shook but I didn't back down. "I'll heal him. Because he deserves it. Not because you ordered me to."
Kael took a step closer. His shadows reached toward me, then recoiled like they'd been burned.
"You're impossible," he said.
"You're a tyrant."
"I'm keeping you alive."
"I didn't ask you to!"
The words hung in the air between us. Raw. Honest.
Because part of me still wanted to die. Still wanted to give up. Still hurt from Thorne's betrayal and two weeks of hell.
But another part—the stubborn, angry part—refused to let the world win.
Kael's expression shifted. Something like understanding flickered in his silver eyes.
"You're right," he said quietly. "I should have asked." He met my gaze directly. "Zariah, will you please heal the man downstairs? He has a daughter waiting for him."
The change in his tone shocked me more than anything. This cold, commanding necromancer saying please.
"Yes," I said. "I'll heal him."
"Thank you."
We stood there, tension crackling between us like electricity. Not quite enemies. Not quite allies.
Something more complicated.
Something dangerous.
"Well," Raven said cheerfully, breaking the moment. "That was better than reality TV. Do you two fight like this often? Because I'm here for it."
Kael shot her a look that would have killed a normal person.
She just grinned wider.
"Come on." He gestured toward the stairs. "Let's get this done before—"
An explosion rocked the building.
The lights went out.
Emergency sirens wailed.
"We're under attack!" someone shouted.
Kael's shadows exploded outward, his system flaring to life. "Everyone to defensive positions! Now!"
People scrambled. Raven grabbed weapons from the wall. Lysander appeared, already armed.
"How many?" Kael demanded.
"Twenty. Maybe thirty." Lysander's face was grim. "Haven City colors. They're not here to negotiate."
My blood turned to ice. Haven City. Thorne's settlement.
Thorne was here.
"Get her to the safe room," Kael commanded.
"No." I grabbed his arm. "If Thorne's out there, I want to face him."
"You can barely stand—"
"I don't care!" The words ripped from me. "He left me to die. He chose her over me. He doesn't get to pretend I don't exist anymore!"
Kael stared at me. Something shifted in his expression—respect, maybe. Or recognition of the same rage that burned in him.
"Fine," he said. "But you stay behind me. Always."
Another explosion. Closer this time.
The windows shattered.
And through the smoke and chaos, I heard a voice I'd hoped never to hear again.
"Zariah!" Thorne's voice echoed through the warehouse. "I know you're in there! Come out and no one has to die!"
My hands clenched into fists.
Kael's shadows wrapped around me protectively.
"Ready?" he asked.
No. I wasn't ready. Would never be ready to face the man who destroyed me.
But I was done running.
"Let's go," I said.
We walked toward the broken entrance together.
And waiting in the smoke, backlit by burning vehicles, stood Thorne Beckett.
With Seraphine at his side.
Both of them staring at me like they'd seen a ghost.
"Impossible," Thorne breathed. "You're dead. I watched you—"
"You watched me get bitten," I finished coldly. "You locked the door. You left me to turn into a monster."
"I had no choice—"
"You always have a choice." My voice was steel. "You chose her. Now I choose to watch you burn."
Kael's shadows exploded forward like a tidal wave of death.
And the real war began.