Page 221 of Without a Trace
“You think they love you?” Lena hissed, slicing close to my jaw. “They pity you. You’re a cursed little girl with a legacy she doesn’t understand.”
I ducked, kicked, missed.
“You always hated being second,” I snapped.
“Because I never fucking was,” she growled.
We slammed together again—arms, knives, fury.
My blade caught her thigh. Her elbow caught my cheek.
“I trusted you,” I said, breath ragged.
She grinned, blood on her teeth. “That was your first mistake.”
“Enough,” Brielle called out, stepping forward but keeping her distance. “Let her bleed. If she’s the heir, she’ll survive.”
Lena’s blade flashed.
And this time, she didn’t miss.
Pain shot white-hot as the knife plunged into my side. I gasped, the forest tilting, the world narrowing to blood and breath.
“Scarlett!”
Trace’s voice ripped through the trees—raw, breaking.
Alden was already charging, eyes feral, gun raised. Zeke barked orders, flanking left. Kane and Rhett were farther back, trying to pin down the others as Red Veil fighters closed in.
But none of them could reach me in time.
The blast hit before they got close.
A roar of heat and pressure ripped through the ridge—earth and fire swallowing everything. My body flew—slammed into something unyielding. Bone met ground. Breath vanished. Sound cut out.
Trace
The second she went down, I felt it.
Like the world shifted sideways.
Like the ground gave out beneath me.
Like the bond tore itself loose from my chest.
“Scarlett!” I screamed, voice raw, lungs burning.
I ran through smoke and blood and gunfire, pushing bodies aside, Zeke shouting behind me. Kane’s gunfire echoed sharp. Rhett dragging Sloane to cover.
Smoke blurred the trees. Gunfire cracked like thunder.
Alden was already there—on his knees beside her, hands shaking as he pressed down on the wound, frantic.
“There’s too much blood,” he muttered. “Fuck—there’s too much—”
I dropped beside her, knees hitting the earth. My hands reached for hers.
Cold.
