We stayed in that corner longer than I expected.
The music flowed like warm water through the hall, something slow and elegant, the kind that made people forget what time it was. Crystal lights shimmered overhead, reflecting off polished floors and silk gowns. Laughter rose and fell in gentle waves. If someone had walked in without context, they would've thought this was a celebration untouched by the outside world.
That was the illusion.
I sat with my back straight, shoulders finally lowering by a fraction, my glass resting untouched in my hand. I let my gaze drift—not lazily, never lazily—but wide. Reflections in mirrors. Shadows behind columns. The way certain men stood too still, eyes roaming instead of enjoying the music. Old habits didn't turn off just because the scenery softened.
Clara sat beside me, Yeager curled against her chest now, asleep. His small fingers were still tangled in her dress, like he was afraid the moment he let go, she'd disappear. She stroked his hair slowly, rhythmically, her face calmer than before but still lined with exhaustion.
"You're safe here," Liam murmured to her gently, leaning slightly closer so his voice wouldn't carry. "For now."
She nodded, eyes glossy but grateful. "Thank you," she whispered. "Both of you."
I didn't respond out loud. I just inclined my head once.
Liam leaned back in his chair beside me, crossing his ankle over his knee, looking every bit like someone enjoying an expensive evening out. It annoyed me how natural he looked doing it.
"You handled that well back there," he said quietly, eyes on the dance floor.
"You shouldn't have been here," I replied under my breath.
A faint smirk tugged at his mouth. "And miss all this?" He gestured subtly to the ballroom. "I'd never forgive myself."
I shot him a look. "I'm serious."
"I know," he said, softer now. "But coincidence or not, I'm here. And right now, that's useful."
I hated that he was right.
The hours slipped by almost unnoticed. More guests filtered in. Dresses changed colors as people rotated through the crowd. The band shifted tempo as the night deepened. Somewhere along the way, the tension in my spine eased just enough to remind me how tired I was.
At dusk, the light through the tall windows shifted—gold fading into blue, the outside world slowly reclaiming itself.
"That's our window," Liam said quietly, checking his watch.
I nodded. "Dorian?"
"He'll find us," Liam replied. "He always does."
As if summoned by the thought, I felt it before I saw it—that subtle change in the air behind us. I turned just as Dorian appeared at the edge of the hall, blending in despite the fact that he didn't belong among the silk and champagne. His gaze met mine briefly. One nod.
Clean.
I stood smoothly, setting my glass down. "Time to go."
We moved like we'd practiced it a hundred times, because we had—Clara first, Yeager cradled close, Liam beside her, me just behind. No rush. No urgency visible on our faces. We merged into the thinning crowd and slipped out of the ballroom the same way we'd entered it: unnoticed.
The hallway beyond was quieter now, dimmer, the noise of the ball muffled behind heavy doors.
Only when we were far enough away did I let myself breathe fully again.
The night wasn't over yet.
But we were still standing—and that was enough to keep going.
The calm never lasted. It never did.
I felt it before anything happened—the air tightening, that familiar pressure crawling up my spine like a warning I'd learned to trust more than my own thoughts. The ship groaned softly beneath us, metal stretching and settling, and for a second it felt like it knew what was coming.
Liam straightened beside me, the lazy ease he'd worn at the ball evaporating. His eyes sharpened, scanning reflections in polished surfaces, shadows where they shouldn't have been.
"They're still here," he said under his breath.
I nodded, fingers flexing as if my daggers were still in my hands. My heart hadn't slowed since the suite. It never really did after things like that. My body stayed halfway in survival mode, always waiting for the next hit.
Behind us, Clara held Yeager close. Her arms were tight around him, protective, trembling despite her strength. Dorian caught my eye and gave a single nod—they're safe. That was all I needed.
"West side," I murmured. "If they regroup, that's where they'll push from."
Liam followed my gaze. "Or above. This ship's a maze."
The gunshot answered him.
The sound cracked through the air, sharp and final, echoing across the deck. Every nerve in my body lit up.
"Move," I said immediately.
I guided Clara forward, my hand firm but careful on her arm. "Stay behind us. Don't stop no matter what happens."
Dorian was already positioning himself, his body a shield between Clara, Yeager, and the rest of the world. Liam and I moved ahead, instinctively taking point. The corridor we entered was narrow, lined with expensive paneling and dim gold lights that felt useless now. Luxury didn't mean safety. It just gave enemies more places to hide.
Then the lights went out.
Not completely—emergency lighting flickered on, washing everything in a dull red glow that made shadows stretch and twist.
Liam exhaled slowly. "Of course."
They came from the sides.
Not charging. Hunting.
I heard movement to my left and reacted without thinking, diving forward as something heavy slammed into the wall where my head had been a second earlier. I rolled, came up low, and slashed just to create space. My breath burned in my chest.
Liam took the right, using the wall for cover as a blade struck sparks inches from his face. He grabbed the attacker's arm, twisted hard, and shoved him down the corridor, knocking into two others like dominos.
"Dorian!" Liam shouted.
"I've got them," Dorian replied calmly, like this was just another day.
That steadiness grounded me.
I moved again, faster now, anger sliding in alongside adrenaline. These weren't just enemies. They were people who wanted a child dead for money, and that alone was enough to erase any mercy I might have had.
One of them rushed me carelessly. I stepped into his space, redirected his weight, and sent him crashing to the floor. Another froze at the sight.
That hesitation was his mistake.
My lungs burned. My muscles screamed. I was tired—more than I wanted to admit—but stopping had never been an option in my life. Fear had tried to own me once. I'd never let it again.
"Liam!" I snapped when I saw him stagger slightly, something grazing his shoulder.
"I'm fine," he gritted, jaw tight. "Focus."
So I did.
The corridor filled with harsh breathing, boots scraping, bodies hitting the floor. Red lights flickered overhead like they couldn't stand to watch. Slowly—too slowly—the attackers pulled back, melting into the shadows they'd crawled out of.
Silence followed.
The worst kind.
I stood there, chest heaving, hands shaking just a little now that my body realized the danger had paused. I hated this part—the moment after, when everything you'd held in threatened to spill out.
Liam leaned against the wall briefly, then pushed himself upright. He looked at me—not like a handler, not like a superior—but like someone who actually saw me.
"You're not weak," he said quietly. "You never were."
The words hit harder than anything else that night.
Behind me, Yeager lifted his head, his wide eyes meeting mine for a brief second. There was fear there—but there was trust too.
I turned away before it could undo me.
"We keep moving," I said, forcing steadiness back into my voice. "They won't stop until we're off this ship."
And deep down, I knew—
Neither would I.