Zayne POV

“Ten minutes can save you or damn you.”

Ten minutes. That’s all she said we had.

Tatiana’s voice was hoarse, her breath jagged. Her leg was wrapped with a torn strip of her own shirt, blood seeping through the fabric, dark and steady.

I’d seen her angry before but this wasn’t rage. This was survival stripped down to its bones.

She leaned against the concrete wall, wincing. “If we don’t move now, they’ll load us into that transport van, and we’ll disappear for ...