𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 - 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚠

Break out!

Deckard's POV

I pushed myself up from the chair, rolling my shoulders as the first Eteon soldier charged at me. He swung wide—a rookie mistake. I caught his wrist mid-air, twisted hard until I heard the satisfying crack of bone, and sent him sprawling to the ground with a sharp elbow to the temple.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Hattie pulling on a specialized glove, the tech whirring as it locked into place. She gripped her gun, the glove syncing with it instantly, and fired at an enemy soldier, sending him crashing into a table. Her movements were sharp and precise. Hobbs was his usual wrecking-ball self, tossing men aside like rag dolls. And Owen—well, Owen was going bloody berserk, his knife flashing as he took down soldier after soldier with terrifying precision.

But where was Isabella?

A cold dread settled in my chest. I spun, scanning the chaos for any sign of her.

"Owen!" I shouted over the roar of gunfire and grunts of pain.

My brother turned, his face streaked with sweat and a fresh cut along his cheek. "Find Isabella and get her out of here!"

The words hit like a gut punch. I knew she was alive—but knowing wasn't enough. The fear of losing her was worse than anything I'd ever felt. Another Eteon soldier lunged at me, knife glinting under the overhead lights. I sidestepped, grabbed his wrist, and twisted it behind his back, driving him face-first into the nearest crate.

"Owen, go find Isabella now!" I barked, not bothering to hide the desperation in my voice.

Owen groaned, slamming his chair handle into the jaw of an approaching enemy. The soldier crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Owen wiped a hand over his bleeding cheek and rolled his eyes. "You are such a worried husband. Honestly, she can defend herself."

I grabbed the front of his jacket, yanking him closer. "Just do it, Owen!"

He sighed dramatically but nodded, knocking out another soldier with a sharp kick before disappearing into the fight.

I turned back to the battlefield, barely dodging a swinging baton. The Eteon soldier in front of me was massive, built like a bloody tank. He cracked his knuckles and grinned, like he thought he had the upper hand. Poor bastard. I feinted left, then delivered a brutal knee to his ribs. He staggered, but it wasn't enough. He swung again—I ducked, grabbed his wrist, and used his own momentum to flip him over my shoulder. He hit the ground with a sickening thud.

Another came at me from behind. I turned just in time, catching the punch against my forearm before delivering a sharp jab to his throat. He gasped, stumbling backward, and I followed up with a roundhouse kick that sent him crashing into a pile of crates.

I could trust Owen—maybe 30%—to find my wife and keep her safe. Deep down, though, I knew the truth: it was never us protecting Isabella.

It was always Isabella keeping us alive.

Owen's POV

I punched an Eteon soldier hard, using my arm chain to whip another across the face before slamming my knee into his stomach. Fighting through this mess wasn't an issue, but I was apparently stuck babysitting Isabella. Not that she needed my protection, she can take care of herself, but Deck was in full fatherhood worry mode, which meant I had to find her.

I glanced around, spotting a large truck near the loading bay. If Isabella was hiding, it would be in or near a vehicle—she was smart enough to keep herself out of the way, especially because of the babies. I sprinted towards the truck, yanking open the door, and slid into the driver's seat.