Page 60 of Crushed Vow
That voice, sharp with desperation, hoarse with smoke—his voice.
“Cassian?” I gasped, spinning wildly, but I could see nothing—just waves of heat and falling ash.
A gunshot cracked too close. A bullet tore through the wall beside me, so close it kissed my cheek with a sting.
“Cassian?!” I screamed, louder now. “Cassian—I’m here!”
“CHARLOTTE!” he called again, louder this time, closer. “Where are you?!”
“Here! I’m here—please—” My voice cracked. The smoke robbed it from me. I coughed, collapsing to my knees, hand stretched out into the darkness like I could touch him through it.
And then—
He appeared.
Staggering through the haze.
Cassian.
He looked like a ghost of the man I knew—hair wild, clothes torn, suit burned at the sleeves, a walking stick in one hand as he limped through the smoke like death itself couldn’t stop him.
And I ran.
I ran like I was drowning and he was air.
“Cassian!” I sobbed, crashing into him. His arms wrapped around me instantly, strong and trembling, holding me like I was something he’d been dying to touch.
He smelled of smoke and blood. I could feel the heat radiating from his back, the exhaustion in the way he leaned into me. He was shaking.
“What happened to you?” I cried into his chest, my fingers buried in his shirt. “Why are you—why—”
“4040,” he choked. “The code. For the door.”
“What?!”
“The vault door. 4040,” he rasped. “It’s a safe passage.”
“Cassian!” Ethan shouted from behind, barely able to raise his voice. “I got it!”
But the fire surged again—an explosion rocked the hallway, heat slamming into us like a freight train. One of the pillars collapsed behind Cassian. I screamed as he shoved me aside and dove with me to the floor, shielding my body with his.
Flames licked at the walls.
Gunfire faded into the background.
There was only him. His hand on my back. His lips brushing mine in the chaos.
“I love you,” I whispered into the smoke. “God, Cassian, I love you.”
His breath hitched—his voice cracked.
“My life ended when you walked away from me, Charlotte,” he whispered, tears hot on my neck. “And ever since I saw that divorce paper, I’ve been breathing through the pain—every second, every hour, just trying to survive it
I kissed him—just once. Through the fire. Through the terror. A kiss that tasted of smoke and death and years of aching silence.
And then—
“The vault’s open!” Ethan yelled.
