The executive helicopter cut through the sky like a blade. Wind buffeted the rotors, but Luther sat still, staring ahead with a fixed, cold focus.

His fingers drummed on his thigh, tension radiating off him in waves. Cassian sat beside him, silent now after the last argument, his disapproval like a shadow in the cramped space between them.

“She’s on the bus heading west,” the tracker’s voice crackled through the earpiece. “Route’s confirmed. You’ve got about forty minutes until it hits the Ridgeway Highway exit. That’s your best chance.”

“Stay with it,” Luther growled. “If anything changes, you tell me first. No one else.”

He ended the call and leaned forward, speaking into the pilot’s comm. “Set us down by the Ridgeway overpass. We’ll foot it from there.”

The pilot gave a brief nod and adjusted their course.

Cassian finally broke the silence. “This is madness.”

Luther didn’t look at him.

“Just let her go,” Cassian said, voice low but sharp. “You—you’re chasing her down like a rogue in heat. This isn’t about love, Luther. It’s not even about her. It’s about control.”

“She’s mine,” Luther said flatly.

Cassian shook his head. “No. She was a basement ghost. That’s what we made her. What you made her. And now you think dragging her back is some grand redemption?”

Luther turned slowly to face him. “I let her go once. When I was too stupid, thinking I had done enough to make her too afraid to even attempt to leave. I’m not making that mistake again.”

“She doesn’t want you.”

“That doesn’t matter right now,” Luther snapped. “I’ll make her want to stay. One way or another.”

“You say that like it makes up for everything.”

“I’m not looking to be forgiven,” Luther said. “I’m looking to keep her.”

The helicopter began to descend, the landscape of highway and pine forest rushing up to meet them.

Cassian stared at him, then looked away, biting down curses he wasn’t brave enough to say.

The helicopter landed with a jolt. Dust kicked up in clouds as the rotors slowed.

Luther was already out of his seat, grabbing his coat and striding toward the waiting SUV with the tracker inside. The vehicle’s engine was already running.

“She’s twenty minutes out,” the tracker told him. “Bus’ll stop for fuel at Ridgeway. You’ll have about fifteen minutes, maybe less.”

“That’s all I need.”

As they sped toward the highway rest stop, Luther’s mind spun with what he’d say when he saw her, what he’d do. He had no flowers. No apology that could bridge the blood, the years, and the pain.

He didn’t care.

He wasn’t asking her to love him.

He just needed her back where he could find her and keep her by his side. 

Even if he had to steal her from the road to freedom. Even if she never forgave him.