Jaxon slammed his palm against the hatch. The sound rang out, metal on metal, deafening in the confined space of the tunnel. The echo bounced off the walls and came back to them like a warning. He hit it again, harder this time, but the result was the same. The hatch did not budge. The lock was welded shut from the outside, fused by heat or time or deliberate sabotage. There was no way through."Damn it," he muttered, his voice rough with frustration and exhaustion.Ethan cursed under his breath and moved closer, running his hands along the edges of the hatch, checking the side panels for another lever or release mechanism. His fingers traced the seams, searching for anything that might give them a way out. But there was nothing. Just solid metal and rust."There has to be something," Ethan said, his voice strained. "There has to be another way."Jaxon stepped back and looked around the narrow shaft they had climbed into. His eyes moved upward, scanning the walls, the ceiling, th

They moved before sunrise, slipping through service corridors that ran beneath Hollowbridge's lower wards. These were the forgotten arteries of the city—the original tunnels built before the metro grid, back when Hollowbridge was still expanding and the underground infrastructure was being laid out in haphazard patterns. The walls here were older, the concrete cracked and crumbling in places, exposing rusted rebar and layers of ancient brick beneath. Water seeped through the cracks, forming puddles on the uneven floor that reflected the dim, flickering lights overhead.Jaxon walked carefully, his eyes scanning every shadow, every corner, every potential hiding place. His body ached from the canal jump, from the endless running, from the constant tension of being hunted. But he could not afford to slow down. Not yet. Not when they were this close.Beside him, Ethan moved with a limp, favouring his injured ankle. His face was drawn, exhaustion etched into every line. Neither of the

Jaxon pushed through the heavy metal door and stepped out into the night. The numbness wrapped around him like a thick coat, blocking everything. His legs moved on their own, one foot after the other. Ethan followed close, his mouth shut for once, eyes darting around the dark exit tunnel.The air hit them cold and wet as they climbed the ladder to the surface. Rain poured down hard, drumming on the metal grate above.They emerged under an overpass, city lights flickering through the sheets of water. Jaxon stopped dead, staring across the river at the skyline. Tower after tower carried the Harrow name in glowing letters. Harrow Plaza. Harrow Tower One. Harrow Medical Centre. His family’s mark on everything. He stood there, rain soaking his hair, running down his face. He did not wipe it away.Ethan pulled his hood up, water dripping from his sleeves. He waited a few seconds, then spoke low. “You alright?”Jaxon’s voice came out quiet, almost lost in the rain. “They lied to me.”E

Pain seared through Jaxon's shoulder, sharp and burning, radiating down his arm and into his chest. He clutched the case tightly against his body, feeling the warmth of his own blood soaking through his shirt, spreading across the fabric in a dark, wet stain. His vision blurred for a moment, the world tilting sideways, but he forced himself to stay conscious, forced himself to keep moving.Shirley pressed her hand against the wound, applying pressure, her fingers slick with blood. Her face was pale, her own shoulder still bleeding from the graze she had taken, but her focus was entirely on him."Stay with me!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos of gunfire and shouting agents. "Do not you dare pass out on me, Jaxon!"He gritted his teeth, pushing through the pain. "Get to the metro line. Go!"She refused, her grip on his arm tightening. "Not without you.""Shirley—""I said not without you!" Her voice cracked slightly, raw with emotion and desperation. "I am not leavin

Chapter Thirty-NineJaxon staggered back from the terminal, his legs barely holding him upright. His chest heaved with each breath, shallow and ragged, and the metallic tang of blood filled his mouth. He could taste it, feel it pooling at the back of his throat, mixing with the dust and grime that coated everything in this forsaken tunnel. The wound in his shoulder throbbed with a relentless, burning intensity that made his vision swim.The smoke charge had barely bought them time. Minutes, maybe. Enough to get away from the loading dock, enough to disappear into the service tunnel before Charles's agents closed in. But every step since then had felt like dragging the weight of his past and future simultaneously. Every movement pulled at the wound, sent fresh waves of pain radiating through his body, reminded him that he was not invincible, that he was running on borrowed time.Shirley pressed tightly against him, her arm wrapped around his waist, supporting him, keeping him upri