The elevator ride down to the security room feels longer than it should. My heartbeat thrums in my ears, too loud in the small space. Damian stands beside me, rigid and silent. His posture is perfect, composed, but I can feel the tension coming off him in waves. His jaw is tight, his hands flexing at his sides as if he is resisting the urge to tear the elevator doors open and sprint ahead.
I should be used to fear by now. I should be numb to it. But something about being hunted again, about Adrian’s shadow pressing into the corners of my life, pulls old panic from places I had buried it in. It twists through my ribs, winding tighter with every passing second.
Three security guards wait outside the surveillance room when we arrive. They straighten instantly when Damian steps out of the el
