The door exploded inward with a bang like a cannon shot, ricocheting off the adjacent wall.
Standing near the opposite wall, shackled hands clenched at her sides, was Zara.
She flinched at the sudden violence, her back hitting the cold concrete behind her.
Her hair was tangled, eyes bloodshot, clothes torn at the sleeves from struggling. But she was alive. Bruised and furious—but alive.
Her frame was tense, shoulders hunched, eyes wild and disbelieving—until they landed on him.
Her breath caught.
"Winter!"
In three long, furious strides, he was in front of her. No words, just motion. His hands found her arms—gentle. She collapsed into him, fists clutching at the fabric of his shirt like she needed to anchor herself to something solid before she unraveled completely.
"They took him!" Her voice broke. "He was scared, and I couldn't—!"
"I know." His voice came low and raw. "I know. We'll get him back. I promise you that."
