They didn't stop until the streets widened and the sirens dissolved into distant echoes.
Élise leaned against a brick wall, breath trembling. The Mark still glowed faintly, no longer burning—watching. Adrien stood close, close enough that the invisible tension between them stayed calm.
"That should've hurt," Adrien said quietly. "We went too far."
"But it didn't," Élise replied. She closed her eyes. The pull between them felt different now—steady, intentional. Not a leash.
Windows flickered on one by one. Streetlights brightened. Somewhere above them, a camera whirred, adjusting its angle.
"It knows," Adrien said.
The Mark pulsed once—slow, deliberate.
Not punishment.
Assessment.
Élise swallowed. "It's trying to understand what we are."
Adrien's jaw tightened. "Then we don't give it time."
A low hum rolled through the pavement, deep and resonant, like the city breathing beneath their feet. Far away, another clock chimed—out of sync.
Rules were shifting.
Élise took Adrien's hand. This time, the bond didn't resist.
It answered.
And the city, alert and angered, began to hunt.