Page 139 of Scarlet Wars
“Are you seriously going to ignore me?” The words tore out before I could stop them, too loud in the quiet of the woods. My boots sank into damp moss as I hurried to close the distance between us.
Caden didn’t slow. His stride stayed measured, as if my voice hadn’t even reached him. “Depends,” he said finally, tone dry, eyes cutting toward me without a pause in his step. “Are you going to acknowledge you keep running from me?”
“I’m not running from you,” I hissed, now matching his pace. “I’m angry at you for lying to me.”
He ducked under a low branch, that muscle near his temple twitching. “One does not necessarily exclude the other.”
“You lied to me for over a year, and now you act like I don’t have a reason for feeling any type of way about it.” I grabbed his arm. “Which is even more hurtful, Caden.”
He stopped so suddenly I nearly crashed into him. When he turned, the moonlight sliced across his face, cold, beautiful, unyielding. “I’ll drop the act when you do the same.” His tone was glacial, but his eyes didn’t leave me for a second.
“I’m not ignoring you, Emma.” His voice dropped, carrying more weight than a shout ever could. “But I refuse to entertain your denial any longer.”
He stepped in close, close enough for the heat of him to cut through the night air, for the breath between us to feel charged. “You want to talk?” he murmured. “Then be ready to have a real conversation. Because I’m done with half-truths and fearful excuses.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but Caden’s head jerked up. In a single motion, his hand clamped around my neck, the other sealing my mouth.
“Shh.” His breath brushed my ear. “Listen.”
The forest stilled. Then, faint but growing, a mechanical hum. My pulse spiked. Caden released me, eyes narrowing toward the dark canopy.
“Caden.” My voice came out thin. “That’s adrone.”
“We need to move.”
He caught my hand and yanked me into motion. Branches whipped at our faces, roots clawed at our boots, and the forest closed in while the drone’s sound swelled, the rhythm of its rotors pulsing like a heartbeat overhead.
“It’s catching up!” I gasped.
“What are the chances of it getting a visual through all these leaves?” he shouted back, ducking beneath a fallen limb.
“Low,” I said, stumbling over slick moss. “But what worries me more is the thermal feed.”
“You think it can detect body heat?”
“If it’s military grade? Yeah.”
The hum grew louder—closer—its rhythm turning into a metallic snarl overhead.
Then the night exploded.
A flash seared through the trees, followed by the sharp hiss of impact. Bark splintered beside us, scattering in a spray of sparks and sap. The smell of ozone burned the air.
“Shit!” I dropped low instinctively, covering my head as another burst ripped through the canopy, tearing branches apart. “It’s shooting at us!”
“Run!” Caden’s command left no room for debate.
He yanked me up by the wrist, and we sprinted through the dark, the forest alive with sounds I really didn’t want to hear. Apulse of light cut through the trees again, skimming so close I could feel the heat brush my back.
“Move!” he barked.
We veered left, crashing through brush and mud, hearts pounding out of rhythm with the drone’s roar. Somewhere above, it adjusted course, hunting.
“It’s right above us,” Caden hissed, dragging me behind a trunk thick with frost.
The spotlight swept past—blinding white slicing through the black—then arced back again, searching.
“We can never outrun it,” I whispered.
