Page 92 of Taken

Freedom waits ahead. Danger surrounds us. And behind lies only prison and pain.

“Hell, yeah,” I say, and start running toward whatever comes next.

Chapter 25

Lila

The night air slices into my lungs. Sharp, clean, painful. It’s been years since I’ve breathed anything but the recycled sterility of my prison. The shock of it makes me dizzy.

“Move!” Talon’s voice cuts through the ringing in my ears. His hand clamps around my upper arm, half-dragging me over ground that refuses to stay level beneath my feet.

Behind us, sirens wail. Shouts echo through the darkness. The Syndicate’s cage gapes open, and they want their bird back.

“I’m trying,” I gasp, stumbling over roots and rocks, my prison-soft feet already bleeding inside the boots someone thrust at me. Every muscle screams from exertion I haven’t known in decades.

Ahead, the extraction team moves quickly, Hargen’s unconscious form strapped to an emergency stretcher between two operatives. Blood drips steadily onto the forest floor, marking our path in crimson.Hisblood. So much of it.

My fault. My choice. My rescue that put the bullet in his belly.

“Stay with me,” Talon growls, his grip tightening as I falter. The moonlight catches the remnants of scales along his jaw—golden flecks that shimmer and fade as his dragon form recedes. “We’ve got two clicks to the transport. Can you make it?”

Two kilometers. It might as well be two hundred.

“Yes,” I lie, because what alternative do I have? Back means death—or worse, the chair again, the Shard used against me, against anyone with dragon blood. Forward means… I don’t know what forward means. Justnot that.

We push through underbrush, the forest swallowing us into shadows. The red-haired woman—Zoe, I heard Talon call her—leads the way, her movements silent and efficient. Four other operatives surround us, weapons ready, faces grim in the darkness.

“They’ve deployed air support,” one operative mutters, pressing a finger to his earpiece. “Two minutes out.”

“Scatter pattern,” Zoe orders without breaking stride. “The ravine offers cover. Move.”

The team changes direction, angling downward toward a slash in the earth I can’t see but can feel in the sudden tilt of the ground. My legs give out as we navigate a steep embankment. I crash to my knees, rocks tearing through thin fabric into flesh.

Talon hauls me up without a word, his forearm sliding around my waist, taking my weight against him. His body radiates heat that cuts through the mountain chill, through the numbness spreading up my limbs.

“Nearly there,” he murmurs, though I know it’s another lie.

The ravine appears suddenly—a deep cut in the earth, dark water rushing far below. The operatives carrying Hargen hesitate at the edge.

“We can’t cross with him like this,” one says.

Zoe gestures impatiently. “The bridge is fifty meters north.”

We follow the edge, my feet dragging, Talon practically carrying me now. The Shard’s warmth intensifies, responding to my fading strength, to my fear.

A sound cuts through the night—thwump-thwump-thwump. Helicopter rotors.

“Down!” Zoe orders.

We drop, bodies pressed into cold earth as a spotlight sweeps the forest behind us. Too close.

The helicopter hovers, spotlight swinging in widening arcs, then moves away.

“Thank fuck.” Talon’s voice is in my ear a moment before he has me on my feet again. The effort leaves me shaking, black spots dancing at the edges of my vision.

“Get going!” says Zoe. “They’ll probably be back.”

We reach a narrow footbridge spanning the ravine, barely more than rope and wooden slats. The team carries Hargen across first, his blood leaving smears on the weathered wood. I stare at the swaying structure, vertigo hammering behind my eyes.

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