The sea swallowed them.
Cold. Dark. Unforgiving. The icy water clawed at Roselyn's lungs, her hair plastered to her face as waves slammed her against Rowan. Her body screamed in protest, numbing her arms and legs, but Rowan's grip was unyielding, anchoring her to life even as the blackness threatened to pull her under.
"Hold on!" he shouted, his teeth chattering against the roar of the waves.
Roselyn coughed violently, saltwater burning her throat. Panic clawed at her chest. "I… I can't…"
"Yes, you can!" Rowan yelled, his voice steady despite the freezing current. "Swim with me. Just swim!"
He kicked with force, propelling them forward through the surging water. The remnants of the burning ship spewed fire and smoke behind them, the crackle of flames mixing with the hiss of explosions as metal groaned and collapsed. A massive wave crashed over them, separating Roselyn from Rowan for a terrifying second, and she gasped, choking on seawater.
"Roselyn!" Rowan's voice cut through the stormy night. His gloved hand shot out, catching hers. "Don't let go!"
Her fingers closed around his, shaking violently. Every muscle in her body ached, every nerve screamed for rest, but she forced herself to move. Survival left no room for hesitation.
Above them, the speedboat from the extraction team roared through the waves, its lights slicing through the darkness. Rowan steered them toward it, using his body as a shield against the wind and the surging water. Bullets from distant enemies—Rambo's men?—pinged against the hull behind them, but Rowan didn't falter. His eyes were fixed on the only thing that mattered: getting her alive to the boat.
A sudden wave slammed into them, nearly capsizing them. Roselyn screamed, her panic overtaking her for the first time in weeks. "I can't—"
"You can! You will! Now!" Rowan roared, dragging her with him, his strength unwavering. He kicked with his legs, navigating them toward the side of the boat, his hands steady even as the waves tossed them like ragdolls.
The extraction team lowered a rope ladder into the water. Rowan latched onto it with one hand and helped Roselyn climb. Her fingers slipped against the wet rungs, her muscles quivering with exhaustion. Rowan's gloved hands gripped hers, guiding her upward.
Finally, they reached the deck. Rowan pulled her onto the boat with a forceful tug, collapsing beside her for a split second, both of them gasping for air. The wind whipped against their soaked bodies, but the sense of relief was almost overwhelming. She was alive. He was alive.
Roselyn shivered violently, her teeth chattering. "I… I thought…" Her voice faltered. She couldn't finish the sentence. She had thought death was inevitable, that Rambo would have his way, that the nightmares would never end.
Rowan draped a thick blanket over her shoulders, his hands surprisingly gentle. "It's not over yet," he said softly. "But you're alive. And that's the start."
Her eyes met his, searching for some hint of reassurance. "You… risked yourself. For me?"
He didn't answer immediately. He only looked at her, the cold of the night reflected in his eyes, the faintest flicker of something human beneath his composure. "You're not just anyone," he said finally. "And I won't let them take you again."
The boat's engines roared as it sped away from the burning ship. Behind them, the inferno lit the horizon, flames licking the sky and smoke curling like black serpents into the clouds. The metallic skeleton of the vessel groaned one last time before sinking beneath the waves.
Roselyn's hands clenched the blanket, still trembling. "It's… gone," she whispered. But she knew, deep down, that Rambo wasn't finished. The thought made her stomach twist, a cold knot of fear that refused to loosen.
Rowan noticed. "He'll try. But we'll be ready," he said firmly, his jaw tight. "And this time, you won't be alone."
The captain of the rescue team approached, his face grim under the brim of his wet cap. "We got what we came for," he said. "But the storm's rising. We need to get you somewhere safe, now."
Roselyn nodded weakly, leaning against Rowan for support. Every step felt like a marathon, but the blanket, the warmth, and the fact that someone cared enough to fight for her life made it bearable.
As the boat cut through the waves, she caught sight of Rowan scanning the horizon, his posture taut, ready for any threat. For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn't just reacting. She felt… protected.
Hours passed—or maybe minutes; time was meaningless in the storm—but eventually the water calmed enough for the team to dock at a hidden safehouse along the coastline. Rowan helped her off the boat, steadying her against the cold. The faint smell of smoke lingered on her clothes, the stinging salt in her hair, but she was finally on solid ground.
Inside the safehouse, she collapsed into a chair, exhausted to the point of trembling. Rowan knelt beside her, his hand brushing hers lightly. "Drink," he said, offering a bottle of water. "Stay hydrated. You need strength for what comes next."
Roselyn hesitated, then took it, her fingers barely brushing his. The contact was fleeting, but it sent an unexpected warmth through her. She realized, shakily, that she had trusted someone—finally.
Outside, the night was silent, the storm having spent its fury. But inside, the tension lingered. She knew Rambo was still out there, waiting, calculating.
Rowan's gaze met hers, steady and unwavering. "Rest," he said. "We've survived tonight. The rest… we'll face together."
Roselyn swallowed hard, the words sinking deep. Together. For the first time, it didn't sound like a lie.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, she believed it might be true.