Askold was silent for a second. Just one second, but I heard everything in that silence. I heard how he had already understood it all, even before asking the question.
"He realized it was you. Didn’t he?"
"Yes."
"Did he hurt you?"
"No. He was... acting strange, and I..."
"Don’t cry. Jane, keep your eyes on the road."
I had no time to wipe my tears. And no reason to—they couldn’t be seen through the visor anyway. They just got in the way, blurring the lights of oncoming cars into watery smears, and I kept blinking, trying desperately to focus.
"Will he find me now?"
"We won’t let him. We will do everything in our power to hide you. Did you get his blood?"
"Yes."
"We’ve moved the equipment and the doctor to the safehouse. Our people are already stationed at the checkpoint into the Lower District. As soon as you arrive, we start the treatment immediately."
Matthias. I thought of Matthias, of his gray eyes, and how his tiny fingers used to wrap around my pinky as he asked, "Do you pinky swear?" At that thought, something in my chest pieced itself back together. Bit by bit. Painfully slow. But it pulled together.
A deafening blast from a horn echoed behind me, and I spotted his car in the mirror. He was closing in. Steadily, relentlessly shrinking the distance between us.
I plunged into the empty tunnel, the roar of my engine bouncing off the concrete walls and filling the space with an overwhelming echo. Within that deafening rumble lay a profound, suffocating loneliness—like the lone song of a humpback whale calling out on a frequency no other creature would ever hear. Just like that, my own heart howled, desperate to break through the wall of my intellect.
"Jane?"
"Yeah... I’m almost at the checkpoint."
"Got it."
The black car pulled up alongside me. The passenger window slid down. I stole a quick glance to my side, and that single second was all it took to see his face.
He was staring right at me. He was screaming something, but his words were completely devoured by the thunderous echo inside the tunnel. I could only read his lips as they moved to form one single word.
Just my name.
Over and over again.
With a punishing effort of will, I tore my eyes away and stared straight ahead. If I looked at him one more time, if I let my eyes meet his for even a split second, I didn’t know what I would do. The heavy steel gates of the Lower District border were finally visible in the distance. I watched as they began to slide open, just enough to let me through.
Only me.
Not him.
I wrung every last drop of power out of the bike, surging toward the opening as if my entire life depended on what lay beyond it. Because it did. Matthias was in there. My son’s life was in there.
The gates allowed me through and instantly began grinding shut behind me.
His sports car screeched to a violent halt on the other side. I brought the bike to a stop for the guards’ security check. I didn’t look back. I didn’t allow myself to. But I could hear him roaring my name through the iron bars, his desperate voice shattering my resolve until I ripped off my helmet and flung it to the ground.
The heavy, metallic thud of the gates locking behind me became the final trigger, and a violent sob ripped through my chest, strangling me from within.
***
Strong hands caught me by the shoulders and pulled me flush against a broad chest. Through the thick veil of tears, it took a moment to figure out who was holding me.
"Easy now. Don’t cry."
I buried my face into my brother’s chest, unable to stop the violent sobs tearing through me. The agony was suffocating, and I didn’t even try to fight it; I knew it was useless. I just clung to his shirt so hard my nails ripped through the fabric. I tried to breathe, but every gasp sliced into my lungs like poisonous fumes. Like acid vapor.
Askold swung his leg over the bike behind me, taking control of the handlebars, and drove us to the safehouse in heavy silence. No one tried to stop us; the Lower District streets were dead silent in the dead of night. The estate guards opened the gates ahead of our arrival, as if they had been standing by for us. The first sprays of dawn began to paint the sky above—a deep, bloody crimson, matching the state of my eyes.
"You..." Askold murmured, studying me closely as he helped me off the bike, my legs too weak to support my own weight. I was shivering, shaking violently from the sheer physical and nervous exhaustion. "You smell like him. Did something happen between you two?"
"No," I cut him off, biting my lip until I tasted copper.
He didn’t push. But I could feel his heavy, lingering gaze burning into my back as I walked toward the front entrance. His eyes were full of silent disbelief—because my scent told a far clearer story than my words ever could.
We had stood at the very precipice, even if we hadn’t crossed the point of no return. I couldn’t bring myself to voice it aloud; speaking it would only make the flashes of his hands on my skin and the heat of his mouth against mine burn with sharper clarity in my mind.
Light flickered through the window of my room. I didn’t wait for my brother, heading straight inside toward Matthias’s quarters, but his room was empty. The small bed was untouched. A sharp, icy spike of panic pierced my chest—only to vanish just as fast when I stepped into my own bedroom and spotted him.
He was sprawled out right in the middle of my bed, his tiny arms wrapped tight around my pillow. So innocent. So peaceful. He had missed me so much that he had sneaked into my room just to sleep in my scent.
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