Hidden Flame

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

I shook my head, my chest tightening painfully. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks. "He could die." The words felt like splinters in my throat.

Tristan didn't hesitate—he pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly against his chest. I pressed my ear to his heart, the slow, steady rhythm beneath his skin the only thing keeping me from spiraling.

"Liv..." Chessie's voice was soft, filled with sorrow, the shadows of helplessness dancing in her eyes. She stepped closer, her eyes searching mine. "If there's anything we can do... we will do it."

I tried to give her a smile, but it barely came. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to reel myself in. Trying to push past the rising panic.

Then the gunfire started.

The sharp, violent cracks of bullets rang out in the distance, the sound vibrating through the walls. The floor beneath us seemed to tremble with the weight of it. My body went rigid.

I can't do this.

I can't sit here while they fight.

I can't sit here while they die.

"This is my fault," I whispered, the guilt crushing my chest like an avalanche. I had caused this, I had compromised my identity and now we were locked in a battle, one I wasn't sure we could win. I had seen Vorrath; I had been in it. I knew what they were capable of, the things that they had.

The silence in the room was crushing, only broken up by the sounds of commotion outside the walls. Orders being shouted, shots ringing out, brick crumbling.

God, they had come in at full force.

"So, we fight too," Tristan said suddenly, his voice cutting through the noise.

My eyes snapped to his.

"I'm trained," he said, his gaze unwavering. "We all are." He turned to Chessie, Luke, and Devin. They all nodded without hesitation.

"And you..." Tristan looked back at me. "You have more power than all of us."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "Yeah, power I don't even know how to use. It probably won't help me in a war."

If only I had known about it earlier, maybe I would be useful. But I just felt like a dead weight.

"Maybe not. I don't know." He exhaled. "But the things you learned at the Academy will."

"He's right," Devin added. "Liv, you're an amazing shot. I've seen you."

I swallowed hard, pacing the room. "I can't ask you guys to do this."

If they went into battle, it was more lives on my head. I had already put so many people in harms way, how much more could I ask of people?

"You're not asking," Tristan said. "We're offering."

Chessie stepped forward, placing a hand on my arm. "We're with you, Liv."

I turned, looking at each of them. Searching their faces for doubt, hesitation. I found none. Only certainty. Only resolve. The guilt inside me clawed at my ribs, but so did something else.

Determination.

The gunfire outside grew louder. The distant echoes of battle creeping closer.

"Let us help you. Let us help them." Tristan's words rang in my head.

I took a deep breath, pinching my eyes shut for just a moment, steadying my trembling legs.

Make a decision Olivia. Go with your gut.

Then, I snapped my eyes open and moved.

I strode across the room, heading straight for the far corner. My fingers flew over the keypad, punching in a code—my birthday. Of course, it was.

A loud click.

The hidden door swung open. Inside, an arsenal of weapons lined the walls. Rifles, handguns, blades, everything we could need. I turned back to my friends, the weight of the moment heavy in my chest. "Stock up," I said, my voice steady. "Take what you need."

No hesitation. They moved, stepping into the room, arming themselves.

We moved with tense, urgent precision, strapping on our vests like second skins. My hands shook, but I forced them steady as I slid blades into the designated slits along my vest, their cool weight pressing into my ribs like a silent promise. Reaching for the wall, I grabbed a pistol, securing it in the holster at my hip with a practiced motion.

Tristan was just as methodical, sliding knives into place before pulling a rifle strap over his head, adjusting the weight of the weapon against his chest. He checked the safety, then added a second handgun at his side, his movements fluid, trained. He made it look easy.

Luke went heavier. He clipped grenades onto the front of his vest, their metal casings clinking softly against each other as he secured them. A rifle rested at his back; its strap tight across his torso. His jaw was clenched, his muscles taut with anticipation.

Chessie was kneeling beside Devin, helping him tuck blades into compartments and pockets he wouldn't have been able to reach on his own. Both of them were already armed with their weapons of choice—sleek, deadly, ready.

The room was silent except for the rustling of fabric, the click of weapons being secured. I took a breath, forcing my voice steady. "Everyone armed?"

Luke gave a sharp nod. "Yeah, good to go."

"All set." Devin double-checked the safety on his pistol before slipping it into its holster.

"Locked and loaded," Chessie added, a flicker of amusement in her voice. It was almost unsettling, given the circumstances, but I welcomed it. Anything to cut through the suffocating weight pressing down on my chest.

Luke exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "So... what's the plan?"

I froze.

The plan.

I didn't have one. My mind was racing, but this wasn't my area of expertise—I was way out of my depth. This wasn't like training at the Academy, where there were instructors watching, safety measures in place. This was real. This was war.

But Tristan...

I turned to him. "You have the most training and experience." I met his eyes, swallowing my hesitation. "You lead us."

He studied me for a beat, like he was making sure I was certain. I was. How could it be anyone but him?

He nodded once, then turned toward the group, stepping into the role he was built for. The role that somehow suited him so well.

"Alright," he began, voice firm. "We stay close to the command center. We assist the teams outside—provide cover, pull any wounded soldiers back inside these doors to safety. Keep your heads down and stay alert."

Everyone nodded in agreement, listening to his orders with rapt attention. The air was thick with nerves. I could feel it radiating off my friends, pressing against my skin like a living thing.

"Let's move." Tristan's voice cut through the silence, and we started toward the doors.