The smoldering remains of the ship faded into the horizon as the extraction boat cut through the dark waters. Roselyn's arms were trembling from the cold, her chest still tight from the adrenaline that refused to leave. The icy sea clung to her skin, but for the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn't alone.
At her side, Rowan—tall, broad-shouldered, with eyes sharp and unwavering—kept watch over the water, alert to every shadow, every ripple. His hand brushed briefly against hers to steady her as the boat pitched over the waves.
"I'm Rowan," he said, his voice calm but firm. "You're safe now. For the moment, anyway."
Roselyn hesitated, the weight of everything she had endured pressing down on her. Then she placed her hand in his. There was something grounding in his presence—a quiet assurance that made the world seem slightly less terrifying.
Behind them, the rest of the team moved like shadows—efficient, precise, and alert. Rowan began to introduce them, each one commanding her attention in a way that made her chest lift just slightly from despair.
Mika – small, wiry, and sharp-eyed, the intelligence specialist. She could hack, track, and decode information faster than anyone could imagine. She gave Roselyn a quick, reassuring nod. "Don't worry. We've got eyes everywhere."
Jax – the heavy weapons expert, massive and imposing, yet there was a spark of dry humor in his grin. He hefted a large gun with ease, winking at her. "I've got your six. Don't worry."
Tara – the medic, calm and steady. She checked Roselyn for cuts and bruises, her hands gentle yet confident. "You're lucky," she said softly. "It could have been much worse."
Eli – reconnaissance and infiltration specialist, moving like a shadow, eyes constantly scanning. He gave a silent thumbs-up to Rowan before vanishing toward the bow to secure their route.
Vera – explosives expert, methodical and fearless. Even in the chaos, she had already begun inspecting the remnants of Rambo's ship from a safe distance.
Rowan looked over the team with quiet pride. "Everyone knows their roles. Move with precision, cover each other, and no one gets left behind."
Roselyn's gaze lingered on them. Each person radiated competence and courage. They weren't just a team—they were a unit bound by trust, skill, and purpose. For the first time since her nightmare began, she felt a spark—a fragile, fragile hope.
Rowan turned back to her, the faintest softness in his gaze. "We'll get you to a safe place. Then we'll figure out the rest. But you need to stay with us. Follow our lead."
Roselyn nodded, gripping his hand. "I… I will."
"Good. That's all I ask," he said, giving her a small, reassuring smile.
The boat surged forward, slicing through the waves, leaving the burning wreck behind them. Flames still clawed at the horizon, but their danger was fading with every mile. Behind them, the world they had escaped from was chaos, fire, and death. Ahead lay safety, the team, and a chance for Roselyn to finally breathe.
As the boat rocked gently, Roselyn felt Rowan's presence like a shield. The panic that had gripped her moments ago began to ebb. She wasn't just surviving anymore—she was being protected. And for the first time, she dared to imagine a life beyond fear.
Rambo wasn't gone. She knew that. His shadow would always linger somewhere, waiting. But for now, with Rowan and the team around her, she felt… ready.
Ready to fight.
Ready to heal.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, she believed she might have a future that wasn't defined by terror, by captivity, or by pain.
With Rowan leading them, she wasn't facing it alone.