Adam didn't move.
Even after she shouted.
Even after her voice changed into something that no longer sounded fully human.
"No."
The word left his mouth calmly.
Firm.
Unshaken.
Lia's body trembled harder.
Her breathing turned sharp, uneven, like something inside her was fighting to take control.
"I told you to go…" she said, her voice breaking.
But Adam stepped closer.
Slowly.
Carefully.
"I'm not leaving you," he said.
Her eyes flickered again—gold… then darker… then something in between.
Unstable.
Dangerous.
"Stop…" she whispered.
He didn't.
Another step.
That was enough.
She snapped.
In an instant, she moved.
Faster than before.
Faster than he expected.
Her hand grabbed his throat and slammed him back against the wall.
Hard.
The impact echoed through the empty space.
Adam didn't resist.
Even now.
Even like this.
He just looked at her.
And that made it worse.
"Why are you doing this?" she said, her voice shaking violently. "Why won't you just leave?!"
Her grip tightened slightly.
Not enough to crush.
But enough to show she could.
Easily.
Adam's voice came out strained—but steady.
"Because you won't come back if I do."
Silence.
For a split second—
Something in her expression cracked.
Pain.
Real pain.
Her grip loosened.
Just a little.
But it was enough.
Enough for her to realize what she was doing.
Her hand trembled.
Then pulled back completely.
She stepped away from him quickly, like she had just touched fire.
"I almost…" she whispered.
Her eyes dropped to her hands.
They were shaking.
Not from fear.
From something deeper.
"I almost hurt you."
Adam straightened slowly, rubbing his neck, but his focus never left her.
"You didn't."
"That's not the point!" she snapped suddenly.
Her voice broke again.
"You don't get it… I can't control this anymore!"
Her breathing accelerated.
Her chest rising and falling rapidly.
"I can feel it getting worse… every second… every time I smell blood… every time I hear your heartbeat…"
She stopped.
Her eyes lifting slowly toward him again.
"And when I look at you…"
Silence.
Heavy.
"…it gets harder."
Adam took another step forward.
Closer.
Ignoring everything she just said.
Ignoring the danger.
Ignoring the truth.
"Then we deal with it," he said.
Simple.
Direct.
Like there was no other option.
Lia stared at him.
For a long moment.
Then she laughed.
But it wasn't a happy laugh.
It was broken.
"You really don't understand…" she said quietly.
A pause.
Then:
"I'm not fighting it anymore."
Adam's expression changed slightly.
"What do you mean?"
Her eyes darkened again.
This time—
She didn't try to stop it.
"It means…" she whispered, "the next time I lose control…"
She took a step back.
Further away from him.
"…I won't stop."
Adam's jaw tightened.
"That's not happening."
She shook her head slowly.
"You can't stop me."
"I don't need to."
A pause.
"I just need to stay."
That broke something.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Her expression shifted.
Softened for just a second.
Just enough to show what she was really feeling.
Fear.
Not for herself.
For him.
"…you're going to die if you stay near me," she said quietly.
Adam didn't respond.
Because for him—
That wasn't a reason to leave.
She saw it in his eyes.
And that's when she made her decision.
A painful one.
Her body tensed.
Not like before.
Not from loss of control.
From choice.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Adam's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Lia—"
Too late.
She moved.
Not toward him.
Away.
Fast.
Inhumanly fast.
Within a second, she was at the exit.
Within two—
She was gone.
Silence filled the space she left behind.
Heavy.
Empty.
Wrong.
Adam stood still for a moment.
Just a moment.
Processing.
Then—
He moved.
Fast.
Ignoring the pain.
Ignoring everything.
He reached the exit—
But stopped.
Because there was nothing.
No sound.
No trace.
No presence.
She was gone.
Adam clenched his fists slowly.
His breathing steady.
Controlled.
But his eyes—
Cold.
Focused.
Determined.
"You think I'll let you disappear like that…" he muttered.
A pause.
Then quietly:
"You don't know me yet."
Somewhere in the city…
Lia was no longer running from the enemy.
She was running from herself.