The ocean swallowed her image too quickly.
For a moment, Drew was convinced his eyes had lied. That the wind, the grief, and the sleepless night had twisted shadows into a familiar shape. But the imprint she left behind—her voice curling through the air like smoke, her silhouette slipping into the dark—felt too real to be imagination.
He stood at the cliff's edge, boots planted in dirt soft from the sea's mist, hands trembling as if his body remembered her even when his mind doubted. His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, heat mixing with the sharp sting of the ocean wind.
"Aria…" he whispered.
Her name tasted strange after so long—familiar, fragile, dangerous. Like saying it out loud invited something back into existence. Something he wasn't prepared for.
Jax's voice cut through the rocking silence.
"Drew," his friend said, a tightness in the tone Drew had never heard before. "Step away from the edge."
But Drew didn't move. He didn't even blink.
Because the mask lay on the dirt where she had stood.
A silver, hand-forged thing with delicate etching along the sides. It shimmered under the weak moonlight as if pulsing with a heartbeat of its own.
He stared at it, unable to look away.
It was hers. He knew it instinctively. The same way he had known the curve of her jaw last night at the club. The same way he had recognized the perfume, the tilt of the chin, the voice—familiar yet changed. Softer in some places, sharper in others. Like flame that had learned how to whisper.
Drew crouched, hands shaking, and picked the mask up. It was warm.
Not from the night air.
From her.
The red feather tucked beneath it fluttered in the wind. A warning. A signature. A ghost.
Behind him, Jax sucked in a sharp breath.
"Drew," he said again, this time in a lower voice. "Get in the car. Right now."
Drew didn't even turn. "You saw her."
"What?"
"You saw her," he repeated, louder this time, anger threading through his voice. "Don't lie to me. You froze when you looked at this." He lifted the mask. "You knew something."
Jax didn't answer. His silence was confirmation.
"What aren't you telling me?" Drew demanded, standing.
He turned to face his friend—and stopped.
Jax wasn't looking at him. His eyes were fixed on the ground where the red feather had landed against his boot. He stared at it like it was a detonator strapped to a bomb.
His jaw flexed. "Drew. Get. In. The. Car."
A prickle ran down Drew's spine. "Why are you acting like—"
He didn't finish.
Because at that moment, the wind carried something new.
An engine. Low, rumbling, wrong.
Drew turned sharply—just as a dark SUV shot out from an abandoned service road, lights off, speeding toward them.
"Get in the car!" Jax barked.
The SUV revved louder, violent, hungry.
Drew didn't hesitate now. He sprinted across the gravel, heart slamming against his ribs. He dove into his car, yanking the door shut.
The SUV surged forward like a predator.
Jax's car door slammed as he jumped into his own vehicle. "Drive!" he shouted.
Drew didn't need to be told twice.
His tires screeched as he launched onto the road, gravel exploding behind him. Jax's headlights followed, weaving dangerously close as the SUV tore after them.
Drew's pulse throbbed in his throat. "Who the hell is that? Who—"
His phone connected automatically to the Bluetooth. Jax's voice crackled through the speakers, breathless and sharp.
"Don't let them hit your rear axle. If they break it, you're done."
"Who's them, Jax?!"
"You don't want the answer."
Another non-answer. Another lie. Another secret.
Drew barely had time to curse before the SUV slammed into his rear bumper. His car jerked violently, fishtailing. Drew fought the steering wheel, breath slicing through his chest.
The SUV rammed him again.
"What the hell do they want?!" Drew shouted.
Jax didn't respond.
His silence was louder than the engine.
Drew's eyes flicked to his mirror just in time to see a window rolling down on the SUV.
A gloved hand emerged.
Holding a gun.
"Jax!" Drew yelled. "They're—"
A blast cut him off. Glass exploded behind him, shards spraying across the backseat like metallic rain. Drew ducked instinctively, swerving as another shot echoed.
"Damn it!" Jax yelled through the speaker. "Drew, take the coastal tunnel! NOW!"
Drew's tires screeched as he yanked the wheel left, the cliffside road blurring past him. The SUV roared after them, engine snarling.
The tunnel loomed ahead—tall, wide, stretching into a hollow mouth of concrete.
Drew shot into it.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
The SUV followed.
Jax's car swerved in next, headlights slicing through the gloom.
The air was cold, echoing with every rev, every heartbeat, every scream of rubber against concrete. The tunnel lights flickered overhead, one by one.
Drew frowned.
"Jax… the lights—"
Static cut his voice off. The Bluetooth crackled, then died completely.
Drew smacked the screen. "Jax?!"
Nothing.
The lights continued flickering—then stopped entirely.
Darkness flooded the tunnel.
Drew's heart lurched. "Oh hell no—"
A metallic thunk echoed behind him.
The SUV's engine revved louder.
They were accelerating.
Blind.
Drew pushed the gas harder. His car shot forward, tires screaming, the darkness pressing in on every side. He couldn't see the lines on the road. Could barely make out the faint reflection of the tunnel walls.
He only knew one thing:
If he slowed, he was dead.
He clenched the steering wheel, jaw set as panic clawed at him. Every memory of the accident that destroyed Aria flashed through his mind—the explosion, the flames, the headline he'd read a thousand times:
Beautiful socialite burned beyond recognition in freak car accident.
Husband devastated.
He pushed the thought away. Focused. Drove faster.
Light appeared ahead—a thin sliver, like a promise carved into the darkness.
He aimed for it.
The moment he burst out of the tunnel, air returned to his lungs. The moon washed over the road. The sea glimmered to his left, restless and silver.
He barely had time to breathe before he slammed the brakes.
A figure stood in the center of the road.
Tall.
Feminine.
Hair blowing in the wind like dark fire.
And her face—
Half-hidden behind a silver mask.
Drew's heart stopped.
"Aria…"
She raised one hand slowly, palm open.
Stop.
Drew yanked the wheel, skidding to a violent stop inches from her. His tires screamed. His body slammed into the seatbelt.
The SUV shot out of the tunnel seconds later.
Headlights locked onto her.
"Oh no," Drew whispered. "ARIA—MOVE!"
But she didn't.
Instead, she reached into her coat.
And pulled out something small.
Square.
Metallic.
A device.
She looked directly at him—straight into his soul.
Then she pressed the glowing blue button.
The world detonated.
A thunderous boom split the night. Flames roared out of the tunnel behind her in a violent wave. Fire swallowed concrete, steel, road—everything.
The SUV vanished in the explosion.
Drew threw his arms up, the blast wave slamming into him. His car rocked violently, gravel and debris pelting the roof like hail. Heat washed over him.
He coughed, the smoke clawing down his throat, stinging his eyes.
When he looked up—
Aria was gone.
Again.
Just like before.
Just like she had never existed.
Drew shoved his door open, stumbling out into the smoky air. The road was chaos—chunks of concrete, burning metal, charred dust. Flames licked up the tunnel entrance, the air thick and trembling.
"ARIA!" he shouted, voice cracking.
Silence.
Only the ocean answered, waves crashing violently below.
Drew's chest tightened painfully. His thoughts spun like broken gears in his skull. She had been there. She pressed the detonator. She watched the explosion swallow the SUV without flinching.
Who was she now?
What had they turned her into?
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
He nearly dropped it.
Unknown Number.
Hands shaking, he opened the message.
"You weren't supposed to see that.
Now they'll come for you too."
His blood froze.
Another message appeared instantly.
"Don't trust Jax."
Drew looked up sharply.
Behind him, gravel crunched.
He spun around—
—and saw Jax standing there.
Smoke coiled around him. His face was bruised, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead. His shirt was torn. His eyes glimmered strangely in the firelight.
But it was the gun in his hand that made Drew's breath catch and his body lock in place.
Jax raised it slowly.
Pointed it directly at Drew's head.
"Don't move," Jax said, voice low, unreadable. "We're out of time."
Drew's heart slammed against his ribs. "Put the gun down."
"No."
"Jax—what are you doing?"
Jax stepped closer. His expression wasn't angry. It wasn't panicked.
It was resigned.
"I told you not to come here," he said softly. "I told you this wasn't your fight anymore."
Drew's mouth went dry. "Anymore? What the hell does that mean?"
Jax didn't answer.
He didn't have to.
Because Drew finally saw it—just for a second—but long enough:
A faint red feather stitched into the inside collar of Jax's jacket.
The same symbol left at Drew's apartment.
The same symbol under the mask at the club.
The same feather Aria had dropped by the cliff.
Drew's stomach twisted violently. "You… Jax, what did you do?"
Jax's eyes flickered with something like pain.
"Don't make me choose," he whispered.
"Choose what?"
Between the smoke and the firelight, the cliff wind and the distant crash of waves, Jax's next words came out as a broken confession:
"Between you… and her."
Drew's breath stopped.
"What?"
Jax lifted the gun a little higher.
"I'm sorry.