The kiss shouldn't have happened.
Not in that room. Not with those secrets burning between them. Not with the taste of blood and betrayal still on her tongue.
But it did.
And worse?
She didn't pull away.
Selene didn't know who kissed harder. Her, or him. His mouth was firm, sure, bruising. She met it with fire, hands tangling in his shirt as if touching him could undo everything he was. Undo everything he made her feel.
Because there was something sick about craving the man who might've had her drugged. Something wicked in the way her body responded to him, clinging, gasping, needing.
Cassian gripped her hips like he was holding himself back. His touch was almost reverent almost. Until she bit his lip.
He growled. Pulled back.
"You don't know what you're playing with," he rasped.
"I'm not playing," she breathed. "I'm surviving."
He stared at her. Something sharp in his eyes almost pained.
Then, suddenly, he stepped away.
The space between them roared louder than a bomb.
"I told you once," he said, his voice tight. "I don't touch what doesn't want me."
"You think I didn't want that?" she snapped. "That I kissed you because I felt safe?"
His jaw tensed.
"I don't feel safe with you, Cassian. I feel.... alive. Violently. Desperately. It's not the same thing."
He walked to the window. The silence stretched so long she thought he might throw her out.
But when he turned back, his face was different. Not soft. Never soft. But… haunted.
"You were part of the first batch," he said finally.
Her blood ran cold.
"What?"
"The first trial group. Before the labs fell. You were part of a government program. I didn't pick you. I didn't even meet you then. But I read every page of your file when we raided the compound. I saw your face. I remembered it."
Selene swallowed hard. "Why tell me now?"
"Because I owe you the truth," he said. "If nothing else."
A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "You think truth makes this better?"
"No," he said quietly. "But I'm not asking you to forgive me. I'm asking you to understand the world you live in."
"I understand," she said. "You're a monster."
He looked at her then, really looked.
"Maybe," he said. "But in this world, monsters live longer."
---
She didn't sleep that night.
She sat on the cold floor of her room, the file scattered beside her, and thought about the weight of everything she couldn't forget. Her real name. Her old life. The woman she was before the Collapse.
Before the needles.
Before the numbers etched into her blood like a brand.
Patient 0934.
Test subject. Survivor. Ghost.
She touched her lips, still swollen from the kiss.
That wasn't love. It wasn't comfort. It was war.
And part of her had loved every second of it.
---
The next morning, someone banged on her door.
It wasn't Cassian.
It was Riker.
His lip was split. His knuckles raw. There was blood on his collar that didn't belong to him.
"You're needed," he grunted.
She followed, half-dazed, heart pounding as they walked deeper than she'd ever been allowed before. Past the medical bay. Past the training yard. Down into the belly of the compound.
The air changed.
Colder.
Darker.
They stopped in front of a thick metal door. Riker keyed it open and shoved her in.
Then locked it behind her.
Inside was a small, windowless room. Concrete walls. A single steel chair. And someone tied to it.
Bleeding.
A man.
Selene stared.
The prisoner's head lolled forward. Blonde hair. Face battered. But when he looked up, her breath caught.
"Mason?"
Her voice cracked.
He blinked. His lip trembled.
"S-Selene?"
Memories surged.
Laughter on fire escapes. Kisses during curfew. His arms holding her after her first blackout from the injections.
Mason was her first love.
And now he looked like he'd been through hell.
"I thought you were dead," she whispered, rushing forward. "I—I looked for you—"
"Selene, listen to me," he said urgently. "You have to run. Cassian—he's not who you think he is. He's building something. A weapon. A new kind of control—he's using the survivors from the labs, the ones like us—"
The door slammed open.
Cassian walked in.
Gun holstered. Calm. Cold.
Selene stood, fists clenched. "What is this?"
Cassian didn't look at her. He walked straight to Mason. Stared down at him.
"Did you tell her about the old world?" he asked quietly.
Mason spat blood. "She deserves the truth."
"She deserves to live," Cassian said. "And that's not the same thing."
Then he turned to Selene.
Eyes unreadable.
"I gave you the choice to walk away," he said. "You didn't take it."
Selene stared at him, pulse thudding.
"What are you going to do to him?"
"That depends," Cassian said, voice low. "On what you choose next."
Selene didn't speak.
Not at first.
Her heart warred with her head. Her past screamed louder than her present. And Cassian? He waited.
And waited.
Until finally, she looked him dead in the eye and said:
"I'm not walking away."