The night was perfect for driving.
Clear skies, empty roads, the city lights fading behind them as Sylus took them out toward the countryside. No destination in mind—just driving for the sake of it, giving Scarlett a break from the mansion and the constant watchful eyes.
She sat in the passenger seat eating chocolates from the box he'd bought her earlier, talking animatedly about her art project. Something about impressionist techniques and light studies. Her hands moved expressively as she spoke, paint still staining her fingers despite washing them three times.
"—and then Professor Lin said my use of color was 'adventurous' which I think was code for 'weird' but I'm choosing to take it as a compliment—" She popped another chocolate in her mouth. "—because honestly, traditional color theory is boring and I wanted to try something different."
Sylus listened, one hand on the steering wheel, completely content. This was peace. This simple moment of his wife talking about art while eating chocolate, trusting him enough to be completely herself.
Then her tone shifted. Became quieter. Less enthusiastic.
"Everyone at school still avoids me," Scarlett said softly, staring out the window. "I mean, I understand why. They know who you are. What you do. They're scared that saying the wrong thing to me will somehow get back to you and then—" She made a vague gesture. "—consequences."
"I would never hurt anyone for talking to you," Sylus said.
"I know that. You know that. But they don't." She sighed. "I don't have any friends anymore. The girls I used to study with won't even make eye contact now. It's like I'm invisible except everyone can see me and that somehow makes it worse."
Sylus's hands tightened on the steering wheel. He'd given her freedom, but it had come with a different kind of cage—the isolation of being connected to him. The fear his reputation inspired bleeding into her normal life.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"It's not your fault." Scarlett reached over and squeezed his hand. "Well, it kind of is your fault for being a terrifying crime lord. But I chose to come back. I chose you. So I guess it's my fault too."
"We could—"
"I don't want to talk about solutions right now." She smiled at him. "I'm just venting. Sometimes I need to vent. You don't have to fix everything."
He wanted to though. Wanted to fix this for her. Make people see her as Scarlett, not as an extension of him. But he didn't know how to do that without fundamentally changing who he was.
Sylus reached for the radio, turning it to a station playing soft love songs. Something to help her relax. To remind her that despite everything, they had this. Each other. Moments of peace stolen between chaos.
A ballad started playing—something about loving someone across time and distance, poetic and gentle.
Scarlett leaned back in her seat, eyes closing, finally relaxing.
Then gunshots shattered the night.
BANG BANG BANG—
The rear window exploded inward, safety glass spraying across the back seat. Scarlett screamed, ducking instinctively. Sylus swerved hard, avoiding the next burst of gunfire by pure reflex.
In the rearview mirror, he saw them—five cars, all black, all moving with aggressive precision. Darius's men. Had to be.
"Hold on!" Sylus shouted, accelerating hard.
But they were boxed in. Two cars pulled up on either side, another two positioning themselves ahead. The fifth stayed directly behind, the one shooting.
Sylus grabbed his phone with one hand, hitting speed dial. "We're under attack. Route 7, heading north. I need backup NOW."
"Already mobilized, boss," came Lin's voice through the speaker. "Two cars en route to your position. ETA three minutes."
Three minutes. They just had to survive three minutes.
More gunfire. The side mirror shattered. A bullet punched through the door panel inches from Scarlett's leg.
"Scarlett!" Sylus's voice was sharp. "Get in the driver's seat!"
"What—"
"NOW! Move!"
She scrambled over the center console as he lifted himself up, making room. Their movements were awkward, the car swerving as she took control of the wheel and pedals. But they managed, muscle memory from the last time taking over.
The moment Scarlett had control, Sylus opened his door.
"SEATBELT!" she shrieked.
"No time—"
"PUT ON THE DAMN SEATBELT OR I'M STOPPING THE CAR!"
Sylus blinked at her tone—genuinely surprised. Then, impossibly, he smiled and buckled his seatbelt one-handed. "Happy?"
"Thrilled. NOW GO BE STUPID."
He leaned out of the car, gun already in hand, and started shooting.
One-handed. While holding onto the door frame with the other. While Scarlett drove at increasingly dangerous speeds. It should have been impossible to aim like this.
But Sylus didn't miss.
BANG.
The tire of the car on their left exploded. It spun out, crashing into the guardrail.
BANG BANG.
Two shots through the windshield of the car on their right. The driver slumped, and that car careened off the road.
Three cars left. Plus more coming—Scarlett could see headlights in the distance. Reinforcements. They were trying to overwhelm with sheer numbers.
And ahead, two more cars were suddenly visible. Darius's men, coming from the opposite direction. Creating a trap.
They were going to be crushed. Literally crushed between vehicles.
Behind them, two more cars gaining speed. In front, two cars heading straight at them. All four positioning to crash into them simultaneously from front and back.
Scarlett's mind raced. If she braked, they'd be rear-ended. If she accelerated, they'd crash head-on. If she stayed at this speed, they'd be crushed from both sides like an aluminum can.
There was no way out.
Except—
An idea formed. Terrible. Dangerous. Probably suicidal.
But possibly their only chance.
"Sylus!" she called over the wind and gunfire. "Get inside! Now!"
"What—"
"TRUST ME AND GET INSIDE!"
He must have heard something in her voice—certainty, determination, a plan—because he pulled himself back into the car immediately. Door still open but body inside, one hand on the grab handle.
Scarlett checked the distance. The cars ahead were maybe fifty meters away. The ones behind were right on their tail.
Forty meters.
She pressed the accelerator to the floor. The car surged forward, engine screaming.
"Scarlett, what are you—"
Thirty meters. The enemy cars ahead accelerated too, clearly planning to hit them head-on.
Twenty meters.
"Hold on!" Scarlett shouted.
Ten meters—
At the last possible second, Scarlett jerked the steering wheel hard to the right and slammed the emergency brake.
The car went into a controlled slide, the rear end swinging around with violent force. Physics and momentum took over, the vehicle spinning 180 degrees on the road surface with a sound like tearing metal.
The four enemy cars—two from ahead, two from behind—couldn't react in time.
They crashed into each other with devastating force exactly where Scarlett's car had been a split-second earlier.
The impact was massive. The sound of crushing metal and shattering glass echoed across the empty road. All four cars crumpled against each other, creating a twisted mass of wreckage. The force of the collision actually shook the ground.
Scarlett's car completed its spin, now facing the opposite direction, having slid off onto the shoulder of the road. The engine was still running. They were still alive.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Scarlett sat frozen, hands death-gripping the steering wheel, breathing so hard she was nearly hyperventilating. Her whole body was shaking. Her vision was spotty. She'd just—she'd just done that. Had somehow calculated speed and trajectory and timing perfectly enough to make four cars crash into each other while getting them out of the way.
She had no idea how.
Sylus was staring at her like he'd never seen her before.
"Did you—" His voice was hoarse. "Did you just—"
"I don't know!" Scarlett's voice was high-pitched, panicked. "I don't know what I just did! I just—I saw it in my head! Like a calculation! Speed and angles and—and—" She was starting to hyperventilate for real now. "Oh god, we almost died! We almost—"
"Breathe." Sylus unbuckled his seatbelt and pulled her into his arms. "Breathe, kitten. We're okay. We're alive. You saved us."
"I could have killed us!"
"But you didn't." He pulled back to look at her, his red eyes intense. "You did something incredible. Something I've never seen anyone do. How did you—"
"I don't know!" Tears were streaming down her face now, adrenaline crash hitting hard. "I just saw it! Like a vision or a feeling or—I knew if I turned at exactly that moment and if I calculated the speed right that they'd—" She gestured at the wreckage behind them. "—they'd crash into each other and miss us!"
Behind them, the tangled mass of four cars was already catching fire. No survivors visible. The fifth car—the one that had been shooting at them initially—had fled when it saw what happened.
In the distance, Scarlett could hear sirens. And the sound of Sylus's backup cars approaching.
Sylus cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. "Listen to me. What you just did—normal people can't do that. Can't calculate trajectories and timing that precisely while under fire and in a life-or-death situation."
"Are you saying I'm not normal?" Despite everything, Scarlett laughed—slightly hysterical. "Because I already knew that. I'm married to a dragon. Normal left the building a long time ago."
"I'm saying—" Sylus paused, clearly choosing his words carefully. "—I'm wondering if you're just a normal girl who happened to have a rare Aether core. Or if you're something else. Something more."
Scarlett blinked. "Like what?"
"I don't know." He brushed tears from her cheeks. "But I intend to find out. Because what you just did—" He glanced at the wreckage. "—that was extraordinary. Impossible, even. And yet you did it."
Two black cars pulled up—Lin and the backup team. They jumped out, weapons ready, scanning for threats.
"Boss!" Lin ran over. "Are you—" He stopped, seeing the wreckage. "What the hell happened?"
"Mrs. Qin happened," Sylus said, a note of pride in his voice. "She just took out four enemy vehicles with a single maneuver."
Lin stared at Scarlett, who was still shaking and tearstained. "She... what?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Scarlett said weakly. "I want to go home. I want bubble tea. And I want to pretend this is normal."
"This is definitely not normal, ma'am."
"I KNOW THAT, LIN!"
Sylus scooped her up out of the driver's seat, carrying her to one of the backup cars. "Lin, handle cleanup. Make this disappear. I'm taking my wife home."
"And the seatbelt thing?" Lin asked, unable to help himself. "Did you actually listen when she told you to buckle up?"
"She threatened to stop the car if I didn't."
"So you... you actually—"
"Lin."
"Right. Handling cleanup. Not asking questions about the boss following orders from his tiny wife." But he was grinning.
Sylus settled into the back of the backup car with Scarlett in his lap, refusing to let her go. She was still shaking, still processing what had happened.
As they drove away from the wreckage, Sylus held her close and wondered.
What was his mate hiding? What abilities did she possess that even she didn't know about? The healing Aether core was rare enough. But this—this instantaneous calculation, this perfect timing, this ability to see solutions in split-seconds—
That was something else entirely.
Something possibly connected to her past life. Something that might explain why she'd been hunted then. Why she was hunted now.
Something that made her even more precious. Even more in danger.
Even more his to protect.
"We need to talk," he said quietly. "About what you can do. About what you might be."
"Tomorrow," Scarlett mumbled against his chest. "Tonight I just want to forget I'm apparently a physics genius who can calculate car crashes while panicking."
"Fair enough." He kissed her hair. "Tomorrow then."
But in his mind, gears were already turning. Plans forming. Questions that needed answers.
Because if his mate was more than human—more than even she realized—then the threats against her were far worse than he'd imagined.
And he would need to become even stronger to protect her.
The dragon would need to become something more.
Just as his mate apparently already was.
.
.
.
.
.
To be continued.