Aria's POV
The city smelt of smoke and champagne, the streets alive with laughing and flashing lights. I shouldn't have come out tonight-my phone vibrating with New Year's wishes felt like a reminder that I was alone-but something dragged me into the mayhem.
Then the gunshot shattered everything.
People yelled, bottles smashed. My heart slammed against my ribs as I hid behind a trash bin. And there he was.
A man, slumped against the alley wall, blood dripping through his white shirt. Not panicked. Not begging. Just... waiting, controlled, menacing, like a predator in pain.
"Please," he said, voice low, hoarse. "Help me."
Every instinct shouted at me to run. But I couldn't. Something in his eyes-fierce, vulnerable, magnetic-pinned me to the spot.
"Okay," I whispered, voice quivering. "Let's get you somewhere safe."
He leaned into me, weight substantial and real. My fingertips stroked his chest to calm him, and heat flashed through me-not fear, not just adrenaline-but something sharper, deeper. My pulse raced as I felt his heartbeat against mine, irregular, yet constant in a peculiar rhythm only I could feel.
The countdown from the square reached our ears:
"Ten... nine... eight..."
Fireworks exploded overhead, bathing the streets in gold. I realized, as I helped him walk, that I had no idea who he was, what danger trailed him, or why my chest clenched with every glimpse at his pale, bloodied face.
"Why... are you helping me?" he murmured suddenly, voice so gentle it made me shiver.
I choked, words stopped in my throat. "Because... I can't just leave you here."
His lips curved-half a smile, half a grimace-and for a heartbeat, the world narrowed to just us. And then everything went wrong.
A shadow moved in the alley. A whisper of movement, yet enough. My stomach fell as he stiffened. His hand sprang out-not toward me, but toward something behind me.
"Run," he hissed.
I turned. Someone was coming. Someone meant to kill him. Or me. I couldn't tell which. The last firework erupted right above, and in that moment, I saw his eyes-dark, stormy, impossible-and knew one terrifying truth:
I was already in too deep.