CHAPTER 17: “Ashes and Shadows”
1269 Words
Smoke still curled into the night sky long after the tower collapsed. ValeCorp’s black glass lay scattered across the streets of New Echelon like fallen stars, sharp and glittering in the firelight. Alarms howled across the district, a chorus of sirens mixing with the low thunder of collapsing steel.
Aria stood at the edge of the wreckage, chest heaving, blood running hot down her side where Damaris’s claws had torn her open. Dominic kept a hand clamped to her arm, steadying her, but his eyes never stopped scanning the shadows. The fire painted him in red and gold, a soldier carved out of stone.
Around them, the crowd swelled. People pressed against barricades, phones lifted, faces lit by the flames. Some shouted her name. Some cursed her. Most just stared—because the untouchable had been touched, and no one knew what would come next.
Aries limped out of the smoke, his arm bound hastily where Damaris had snapped his wrist. Vincent staggered behind him, ribs wrapped in blood-soaked cloth, but his grin was feral. “That’s one shrine turned to ash.”
Kellen appeared last, coughing through soot, his console strapped to his chest. “And one network gutted. Every contract archived down there? Gone. Half the packs in this city just lost their leash.”
The words sank deep into Aria’s chest, cutting through pain and adrenaline. She could feel it—the shift in the air, like the city itself was holding its breath.
But it wasn’t over.
Because Alric Damaris wasn’t dead. She had seen the wound she left in him, black blood steaming as it spilled, but she had also seen the fury in his eyes. A man like that didn’t fall to one blade.
He would come for her.
---
They retreated into the skeletal remains of an abandoned train depot by dawn. The fire still burned miles behind them, a scar on the skyline. Aria sat against a cold wall, skin pale, shoulder throbbing where claws had raked her flesh. The wound had been cleaned but not closed—every movement sent fresh fire through her veins.
Dominic crouched in front of her, his hands steady as he wrapped the bandage tighter. His jaw was set, his expression controlled, but the pressure of his touch betrayed his anger.
“You should have let me take him,” he said.
Aria forced a faint smile. “He was mine.”
His eyes snapped to hers, sharp enough to cut. “This isn’t about pride. You nearly died tonight.”
“And if I hadn’t fought him, he would’ve walked out of there untouched. Fearless. Untouchable. The city needed to see him bleed.”
Dominic tied off the bandage harder than necessary, making her wince. “The city doesn’t matter if you’re dead.”
She leaned forward despite the pain, her voice low. “And what if I’m not afraid to die?”
Something flickered in his eyes—rage, fear, something closer. His hand lingered too long on her arm before he pulled away, rising to his feet.
---
Aries cleared his throat, his presence a shadow that filled the room. “You struck hard. Harder than anyone ever has. But Damaris is alive. And wounded predators are more dangerous than whole ones.”
Vincent wiped soot from his face with the back of his hand, still grinning despite broken ribs. “Let him come. I’d like another crack at that bastard.”
Kellen shook his head, slumping against a column with his console still humming. “He won’t come swinging blind. He’ll shift the war to his terms. Propaganda. Fear. Make the people see us as terrorists before they ever see us as liberators.”
“Then we beat him to it,” Aria said. Her voice was quiet but carried. “We don’t hide. We don’t vanish. We show them who he really is.”
Aries’s gaze sharpened. “And what are you, Aria? To the city above, you’re still Nova Quinn. Spoiled brat. Pop princess. To the hybrids, you’re fire and fury. But to Damaris, you’re a threat he’ll erase at any cost.”
She met his stare without flinching. “Then I’ll be all of it. Whatever this city needs me to be to bring him down.”
---
The depot went silent, the weight of her words settling heavy.
Then Kellen swore under his breath, staring at his screen. “He’s already moving. Look.”
The console projected a flickering feed into the air: Damaris, flawless in a dark suit, standing before the ashes of ValeCorp. His voice carried, calm and commanding, spun for every broadcast network in the city.
“Tonight,” he said, “terrorists led by a rogue hybrid destroyed a beacon of stability. They slaughtered my people, endangered our city, and spat on the order that has kept us safe for generations. But hear me, New Echelon: we will not bow to chaos. We will not be broken by wolves who refuse their place. The perpetrators will be hunted. And when they are caught, they will burn.”
The screen cut out, leaving only static.
Vincent spat on the floor. “Bastard didn’t even flinch.”
Aria’s stomach twisted. She could still feel his blood on her blade, could still see the moment his smile cracked. But to the city, he looked untouchable. Clean.
“Then we make them see what he hides,” she said.
---
By nightfall, the depot had turned into a war room. Maps littered the floor, coded messages scrolled across Kellen’s screens, and weapons gleamed under the low light.
Aries stood over it all, a shadow carved from steel. “You’ve lit a fire. Now we fan it before he smothers it. Every hybrid, every wolf bound by his contracts—they’ll be watching. Waiting to see who bleeds first.”
Aria rose to her feet, ignoring the pain in her side. “Then we don’t wait. We move. Hit his supply lines, his loyalists, his enforcers. Show the city his empire isn’t untouchable.”
Dominic’s eyes followed her, steady, unreadable. “War on every front will burn you out.”
“Then we burn brighter,” she said.
---
But when the others dispersed to rest, Aria slipped outside into the rain. The city stretched before her, black towers and neon veins, restless and alive. The wound in her side ached with every breath, but it wasn’t just pain. It was a reminder.
Damaris was still breathing. And until he wasn’t, nothing else mattered.
Dominic found her leaning against the rusted rail, rain soaking her hair. For a moment, he didn’t speak, just stood beside her, his presence grounding, unyielding.
Finally, he said, “You don’t have to carry this alone.”
Her laugh was soft, bitter. “I’ve carried it alone since the night my family burned.”
His gaze shifted to her, sharp. “And how long do you think you’ll last like that?”
She turned, eyes flashing gold in the rain. “As long as it takes.”
For a heartbeat, silence hung between them, the storm wrapping them in its arms. His hand lifted as if to touch her, but he stopped just short, hovering, trembling. Then he pulled back, retreating into the shadows.
Aria stared at the skyline, fire and rain painting the city in steel and flame.
Damaris thought she was just another name to erase.
But she would carve her name into his empire with blood.
And she wouldn’t stop until the lion bled out in his own den.
---
- Writer
