Bound by shadows: A Love Against All Odds (Bloodthirsty series)

13: Aftermath of Betrayal

The world is a blur of sound and motion as I hit the ground. The blast ripples through the earth, sending shockwaves that rattle my bones. My ears ring, the sharp, piercing whine blocking out all other sounds, and for a moment, I'm not sure if I'm still alive or already dead.

I struggle to focus, to pull myself back to some semblance of reality, but the world keeps spinning, the ground slipping out from under me as I fight to stay conscious. My head is throbbing, and a sharp pain in my side tells me that I've been injured—badly. But the fear that's gripping my chest, the cold, sickening realization of what's just happened, is far worse than any physical pain.

Lupé betrayed me. The man who saved me, the man I thought was an ally—maybe even something more—set a trap that almost ended my life. And I didn't see it coming. I was too wrapped up in my own anger, my own grief, to realize how far ahead he was playing.

I push myself up on trembling arms, my vision still blurry, my body protesting every movement. The ringing in my ears fades slightly, replaced by the distant crackle of flames. The explosion... the detonator. He must have rigged the area, and now everything is burning.

Panic claws at me as I finally manage to sit up, my hand instinctively going to the wound in my side. My fingers come away sticky with blood, but it's not as bad as I feared. It hurts like hell, but I can still move. I can still survive.

But where's Lupé?

My heart hammers in my chest as I scan the area, searching for any sign of him. The landscape around me is a nightmare—a scorched wasteland littered with debris, the trees and ground blackened by fire. Smoke hangs heavy in the air, stinging my eyes, making it hard to see.

"Lupé!" I call out, my voice hoarse, more from the effort than from the smoke. Part of me hopes he's dead, that the blast took him out, but another part—a darker, more desperate part—wants him alive. I need answers. I need to know why he did this, why he turned on me.

But there's no sign of him, just the smoldering remains of the explosion and the oppressive silence that follows.

I force myself to stand, wincing as pain shoots through my side. I have to keep moving. I have to get out of here before whatever Lupé set in motion finishes me off. There's no telling what other traps he's laid, what other horrors he's planned.

I stumble forward, each step agonizing, my mind racing with questions. Where is Lupé? Why didn't he finish me off himself? Did he expect me to die in the blast, or is this all part of some bigger, more twisted plan?

And then, as I take another unsteady step, I hear it—a soft, almost imperceptible sound beneath the crackle of flames. A footstep, slow and deliberate, coming from behind me.

My blood runs cold. I whip around, ignoring the pain that flares up in my side, my heart pounding as I brace myself for whatever—or whoever—is coming.

But it's not Lupé.

It's Isabelle.

She's standing there, just a few feet away, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. She looks just as she did in those last moments before Lupé shot her, her clothes stained with blood, her face pale and drawn.

But she can't be here. I watched her die. I felt her life slip away in my arms.

"Isabelle?" I whisper, my voice shaking. "How... how are you...?"

She doesn't answer. She just stares at me, her expression haunted, as if she's not really seeing me at all.

A cold dread settles over me as I take a step back, my mind struggling to make sense of what I'm seeing. This isn't possible. It can't be her. She's dead.