Page 155 of Scarlet Wars
A Nexus.
A golden Nexus.
“Caden…”
I’d stepped in front of her without even realizing it, the movement pure instinct. “Whatever the reason of this,” I hissed, keeping my attention on the light, “it was all to getyouhere.”
She moved up beside me, blade catching the flicker of gold as it turned in her hand. “I know,” she said quietly, “but I can still take care of myself.”
“No doubt, Nightcrawler,” I muttered, sensing where this was headed, “but neither of us can even touch magic beneath a bubble without imploding. And that’s a blue portal—and a godsdamn flying Nexus—both humming like they want to prove the point.”
Her jaw set, that impossible calm sliding over her features like armor forged in real time. “I’m not dying today, Caden.”
The words had barely left her lips before a raspy sound hit, low, electric, and wrong. It jolted through the air, through us, like a current crawling straight into the bones.
“None have to die today.”
The voice didn’t belong anywhere. It seeped through the stone, the water, the air itself, as if a hundred mouths spoke in perfect discord. The kind of sound that made your skin crawl tight over your ribs, that sent your mind clawing for distance where there was none.
The golden light pulsed in answer, once, twice, rippling across the water until the whole room seemed to breathe with it.
“To save them,” the voice said, every syllable vibrating in the walls, “You, Emma Thompson must jump through the blue portal. The golden Nexus will guide you. You jump right now. Or the water claims them all.”
The water lapped higher, swirling around my boots like it understood. Like it was waiting for permission.
I grabbed her arm, my grip tightening before I could stop it. “Don’t even think about it. We’re under the bubble. You’d need translation to jump through, and that’ll?—”
“No harm will come to her,” the voice interrupted with the kind of calm only monsters and gods could manage.
Emma took a step toward the portal, but I caught her shoulder and shoved her back. “You are not doing this.” It came out harsher than I meant. “I’d rather let them both drown?—”
The door behind us slammed shut, metal screaming as the echo rolled through the chamber. Dust fell from the ceiling. The water surged, climbing fast, licking at our shins.
“Ms. Thompson must jump,” the voice declared, deeper now, resonant enough to rattle the walls, “or all will drown.”
She turned to me then, and what I saw in her expression was the kind of resolve that left no room for pleading or reason.
“If I don’t jump,” she said quietly, “we’ll all die.”
“No.” The word tore out of me. Every nerve lit up, fire under my skin. “Then I go with you.”
“Remember Hunza?” she snapped, the sharp edge in her tone barely covering the fear beneath it. “We almost froze to death in that icebox because you couldn’t stand staying behind. Not happening again.”
“Emma—”
“If I get stuck in there,” she cut in, louder now, fighting to sound steady, “you take James and Jackson across the border. Portal to Stephen. You find him, and you get me out.”
“Emma—”
“That’s an order, Colt.”
Her words hit like a blow.
I blinked, because the world narrowed to the hard click of that command and the stupid, stubborn ache beneath my ribs.
She’d given me a godsdamn order to stand down.
My jaw clenched until the muscles throbbed. I could have argued, begged, dragged her back by force; I could have tried to steamroller her with everything I had. None of it would change the truth that this was her choice, as much as it gutted me to admit it. It always was.
