Chapter 45 – Hunt of the Hollow Flame
Rain started to fall.
But it couldn't wash away the blood.
Adrian moved fast through the shadows of the city, Evelyn in his arms. Every alley, every corner was watched. He could feel it. Eyes everywhere.
But they didn't matter now.
He wasn't hiding.
He was hunting.
Evelyn was barely conscious, her hand gripping his shirt weakly. "Adrian… you don't have to—"
"Don't speak," he said softly, almost coldly. "Save your strength."
He reached a hidden safehouse beneath an abandoned train station. The metal doors hissed open, revealing a sterile room—white walls, old medical equipment, and a steel table.
He laid her down gently.
Then he turned.
And all warmth vanished from his face.
He activated a terminal nearby. "Trace the bullet," he said. "Find the gun. Find her."
A digital voice responded. "Scanning... Weapon identified. Black-grade sniper. Modified trigger. Heat signature confirms… Alectra—Code Name: Hollow Flame."
Adrian's hands clenched into fists.
He remembered that name.
She was one of Lucien's last dogs. A ghost in the underworld. A killer with no morals, no loyalties—only contracts.
And now, she had a target.
Evelyn.
That meant she had signed her death.
Adrian looked over his shoulder. Evelyn had passed out. Her breathing steady, but weak.
He reached for his gear.
Tactical suit. Knives. Twin pistols. And one vial of something old—something from Blackgate days.
He injected it without flinching.
His pupils dilated.
His muscles twitched.
And for the first time in years, he let go of the leash.
Midnight – Hollow Flame's Safehouse
Alectra stood near a window, cleaning her rifle.
"Did you really think hurting the girl would break him?" someone asked from the shadows.
She didn't turn. "No. I wanted him to come."
"You sure that's smart?"
Alectra smiled. "I want to see if the legend is still true."
Then—
The lights flickered.
A door creaked open.
And the man stepped in.
Adrian Hale.
Soaked in rain. Dressed in black. His eyes like a storm about to explode.
Alectra raised her rifle.
He raised nothing.
She fired.
He moved.
The bullet missed.
She blinked.
He was gone.
"Behind you," Adrian whispered.
She turned—
Too slow.
A punch to the ribs. A twist of her arm. Her weapon flew from her hand.
She grinned through the pain. "You're faster than I remember."
Adrian didn't answer.
He just slammed her against the wall. Hard.
"Why her?" he asked, voice low and dangerous.
"To test you," Alectra gasped. "And to remind you—you're still part of the game."
Adrian leaned in close. His voice dropped to a whisper. "You made one mistake."
She spat blood. "What's that?"
"You didn't kill me first."
And with that—
He broke her arm.
Snapped her knee.
Left her screaming.
But didn't kill her.
He walked out, blood dripping from his gloves.
Because death was mercy.
And Adrian wasn't done yet.