Page 53 of Storm of Stars
As we passed Lark’s body, I felt Bex falter. Her eyes slid toward him despite herself. The blood. The stillness. The sight of yet another victim. Her sob came sudden and sharp, like a breath she’d been holding broke inside her.
I whispered, barely audible over the chaos still ringing in my ears, “It won’t be in vain.”
She nodded once, hard, and we kept moving. We pressed forward, and when I glanced back at the cameras, there was a small red light on. Maybe someone was watching after all.
When we reached the exit, Briar and Devrin were already on the bus. Briar held the keys, her knuckles white around them. “It’s all ours,” she said.
We loaded Ezra gently into the back. He looked… better. His wounds were cleaned and dressed. The meds had taken hold. Still a long way to go, but he’d most likely wake up soon.
I reached for the keys and headed to the driver’s seat, the cage now open and empty.
“Wait,” Bex said, stopping me.
She turned to Devrin, her voice clear and strong, stronger than I’d ever heard it.
“We’re going back to Praxis. No more running. No more hiding. Are you coming with us?”
Her words didn’t tremble. She was giving him the option to back away. To choose relative safety instead of certain risk.
Devrin studied her for a long moment. Then glanced at me. At Briar.
Finally, he stepped forward and held out his hand. “For the will of the people,” he said.
Bex took his arm. Gripped it. “We survive,” she answered.
With the team in place, I slid into the driver’s seat. I’d never driven a bus like this before. Didn’t matter, I’d figure it out. I threw it into gear and hit the gas. The doors shut behind us with a hiss. We pulled away from the clinic. Away from theblood. Away from Lark. And through the industrial streets of Steelheart, the city of metal.
We drove straight toward Praxis.
Straight into the storm.
Toward the fight.
Toward the real reclamation.
PART TWO
THE RECLAMATION
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
Bex
The bus groaned beneath us,a low, guttural sound that rattled through the floor and into my bones as Thorne drove us away from Steelheart and back toward Praxis. The engine sounded angry as we made our departure, like it knew what we were on our way to bring down Praxis’ pristine golden walls.
The sun was setting outside the cracked windows, casting long orange shadows across the aisle, painting everything in gold and rust. Ezra’s hand lay in mine, limp but warm, and I gripped it like a tether. He was still breathing. Still here. And yet the fear of losing him hadn’t left my chest. Not really. It just sat deeper now, quieter, but no less sharp.
Down the aisle, Briar and Devrin were deep in conversation. War plans. Strategy. Phrases like “flank positioning” and “staggered team sweep formations” drifted through the noise of the bus, and I let them. I didn’t understand half of what they were saying, but I was grateful they did. It freed me up to do what I needed to, keep Ezra alive. And hold myself together.
I smoothed the hair off Ezra’s forehead, fingers lingering there longer than necessary. He was sleeping, peaceful, at last.I’d nearly lost him. So close. One breath, one heartbeat away from never hearing his quiet laugh again. From never seeing those forest-green eyes light up in the morning sun. From never telling him how much I loved him.
The engine was loud, but not loud enough to drown out the echo of my thoughts. No engine could do that.
We’d set this whole rebellion in motion, called the Runaways together, reignited the spark that Thorne and Briar’s mother lit years ago. We had pulled on the string, and now the whole tapestry was unraveling.
But what if no one came?
