Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
“They’re not the mastermind,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. “They’re just the pawn.”
I hesitate, but then I release the figure, pushing them away from me. They scramble up and disappear into the shadows, but I barely notice. My eyes are locked on Sophia.
She’s standing next to Zeus’s cage, one hand resting on the bars as if she needs to ground herself. Her face is tight with fear, with anger, but there’s something else too—something like realization.
“We almost lost him,” she whispers, her voice hoarse. “I almost lost him.”
I step closer, my chest tight with the weight of everything that’s happened, everything we’ve been through. “But you didn’t,” I say, my voice soft. “We didn’t.”
She looks at me then, and the intensity in her gaze nearly knocks me off balance. For the first time, I can see the cracks in her armor, the vulnerability she’s been trying so hard to hide. And in that moment, I know she’s not just talking about Zeus. She’s talking about us. About what almost happened, about what’s still happening.
“I… I can’t do this alone, Alex,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I could, but I can’t.”
I step closer, my hand brushing against her arm, and for the first time, she doesn’t pull away. The connection between us, the thing that’s been simmering beneath the surface for so long, flares to life. It’s undeniable now, and we both know it.
“You don’t have to,” I say, my voice low, steady. “We’ll figure this out together.”
She looks up at me, her eyes shining with a mix of fear and something deeper—something real. And in that moment, I know we’ve crossed a line. There’s no going back.
Not now. Not after this.
Chapter Eleven
Sophia
The air is thick with tension as I sit beside Zeus’s enclosure, the aftermath of the attack still swirling around us. The world has fallen into a quiet lull, but it’s the kind of quiet that feels like it’s holding its breath, waiting for the next storm to hit. My heart is pounding in my chest, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. We stopped them this time, but barely.
And now, here we are. Alone. Alex stands a few feet away, silent, watching me with that intensity that always makes my pulse race. The danger has passed, but the space between us feels more dangerous than anything we just faced.
I don’t know how to process everything I’m feeling. Fear for Zeus, relief that we stopped them—anger, confusion, and, worst of all, this aching, undeniable pull toward Alex that I can’t seem to shake. It’s been there since the beginning, lurking beneath every sharp word, every glance, every accidental touch.
But I can’t let myself go there. Not now. Not with him.
“Are you okay?” His voice is soft, low, like he’s afraid of shattering the fragile silence around us. I hate how much I want to lean into the comfort his voice offers.
I don’t respond. I can’t. I’m still too raw, too overwhelmed by everything—by the fact that we almost lost Zeus, by the closeness of the attack, and by the way Alex is looking at me now, like he can see right through me.
I press my hands into the ground, trying to ground myself, trying to stop the storm raging inside me. But it doesn’t help. The tension between us is still there, simmering, and I don’t know how to make it go away. Maybe I don’t want to.
“You did good tonight,” he says, his voice still quiet, but there’s something else in it now. Admiration. Something more. “You’re stronger than you think.”
His words hit me harder than I expect, and I feel a rush of heat spread through my chest. I don’t know why his approval matters so much to me, but it does. And I hate it. I hate that after everything, I still crave that connection, still feel the pull toward him.
For a moment, I don’t fight it. I let myself feel it—the warmth of his words, the way they make me feel like maybe I’m not as lost as I think I am. I don’t pull away from the vulnerability that’s creeping in, just this once.
I look up at him, meeting his gaze for the first time since everything went down. His eyes are dark, intense, filled with an emotion I can’t quite name. He’s watching me so closely, like he’s waiting for me to break, to let him in just a little.
And for the first time, I think maybe I want to.
“Alex…” I start, but the words die in my throat. I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I don’t even know what I’m feeling right now. There’s just too much, all at once—fear, relief, anger, and this overwhelming, confusing desire that I can’t keep ignoring.
He steps closer, his movements slow, careful, like he’s testing the waters. My heart skips a beat, and I hate how my body reacts to him, how I’m suddenly so aware of the space between us, of how easily he could close it.