Page 109 of Shadowed Vows: Ghost
In the center, illuminated by a single overhead light, sits Alina. She's tied to a wooden chair, her brown waves falling across her face. Relief floods through me. She's alive.
Standing next to her is a man I instantly recognize as Steele. His cold eyes meet mine, widening in surprise.
She's okay. We made it in time.
"Ghost, in position," Blade's voice comes through my earpiece.
"Ready when you are," Saint adds.
I give the signal. Frost moves to my right, his weapon trained on Steele. I advance, my focus locked on Alina.
"Don't move," I growl at Steele, my voice muffled by the tactical mask covering my face.
Confusion flashes across his features. He doesn't know who we are, but I can see the calculation in his eyes. He's trying to figure out an escape route.
Alina flinches at the sight of more armed men entering the room, her eyes wide with renewed terror. She remains secured to the chair, her muscles rigid with terror while she weighs whether we've come to save her or cause further harm.
"It's over," I tell her, my voice deliberately softened. "We're getting you out."
Recognition flashes across her face at the sound of my voice. "Ghost?" Alina's voice breaks, relief washing over her features.
My heart skips a beat. The shift from fear to hope in her eyes tugs at something deep inside me.
"It's okay, Alina. We're here." I move closer to her.
Steele's eyes narrow at the exchange. "Ghost? Interesting," he murmurs.
I ignore him, focusing on untying Alina. My fingers work quickly at the knots, the rough rope scratching against my skin. I can feel her trembling beneath my touch.
"You're safe now," I murmur, steadying her as she stands.
When I pivot back toward Steele, I catch sudden movement at the edge of my vision. The bastard's reaching inside his jacket. Frost should have been watching him—what the fuck distracted him?
"Gun!" I shout, pushing Alina behind me.
I move instinctively, my body reacting before my mind can process. "Alina, get down!" I shout, shoving her behind me as I lunge forward.
The crack of gunfire fills the room. A searing pain explodes in my chest as the bullet slams into my vest. The impact knocks the wind out of me, but I grit my teeth and push through it.
I charge at Steele, ignoring the throbbing ache spreading across my torso. His eyes widen in surprise as I close the distance between us. My fist connects with his jaw, the satisfying crunch of fist meeting bone reverberating through my arm.
Steele staggers back, but recovers quickly. We circle, feint, trade defenses. He's well-trained, his movements fluid. We trade blows, the sound of flesh hitting flesh mixing with our labored breathing.
Around us, chaos erupts. My team moves like a well-oiled machine, each member knowing their role instinctively. Frost provides cover fire, the sharp report of his M4 rifle punctuating the air. Blade engages two of Steele's men, his movements and blades a deadly dance of efficiency.
The acrid smell of gunpowder fills my nostrils as I dodge another of Steele's strikes. My ribs scream in protest, but I push the pain aside.
End this.
I feint left, then drive my knee into Steele's chest. He doubles over, gasping for air. Not wasting a moment, I bring my elbow down hard on the back of his neck. Steele crumples to the floor.
"Clear!" Frost calls out, his voice steady despite the adrenaline pumping through all of us.
I turn, scanning the room for Alina. She's huddled by the chair, her eyes wide with shock but otherwise unharmed. Relief washes over me, momentarily dulling the pain in my chest.
"You okay?" I ask, moving towards her.
Alina nods, her voice shaky. "I'm fine. You're hit—"
