Chapter 5: Ignite

Chapter 5: Ignite

Three figures stood in the doorway, weapons already raised toward the room.

"Lower your weapons," said Glenmorrin, his voice flat, without a trace of fear. "You don't even know what you're dealing with tonight."

"We just need the Omega," said the man in the middle, apparently the leader of the three. "Hand him over, and you can go on living peacefully, Glenmorrin."

"I don't negotiate with hired help," Glenmorrin answered. "I only deal with whoever sent you."

"He doesn't want to meet you directly," the man said, smiling thinly. "Too afraid."

"Unfortunate," Glenmorrin said. "Because that means the three of you will bear the consequences tonight."

Jhonatan stood stiffly behind Glenmorrin, pistol raised, but his hands had started shaking hard. He'd never faced anything like this before—years of training against paper targets never felt like this.

"Jhonatan," Glenmorrin said, not turning, his voice calm but sharp. "When I say shoot, you shoot the one on the far right. Don't think about the others. I'll handle the other two."

"I—" Jhonatan swallowed. "I'm not sure I can."

"You can," Glenmorrin answered curtly. "You just never had to do it for your own life before. Now you do."

The man in the middle began losing patience. "Enough talk," he said, aiming his weapon more firmly at Glenmorrin. "Hand him over now, or we take both your corpses by force."

"Then," Glenmorrin said quietly, "you've just made the wrong choice."

Everything happened in seconds.

Glenmorrin fired first, his body moving sideways with speed that didn't match his size, dodging the return fire while dropping the man on the left with a single shot straight to the shoulder.

"NOW!" Glenmorrin shouted.

Jhonatan pulled the trigger without thinking further, his eyes closing for a split second out of reflex, and when he opened them again, the man on the right had already crumpled, gripping his own leg, groaning in pain.

"You—" Jhonatan gasped, his hands still shaking hard around the pistol. "I just shot someone."

"You shot his leg, not his head," Glenmorrin said, still grappling with the last man attacking from the right side. "That means you still have a conscience. Save your moral debate for later."

The last man managed to grip Glenmorrin's throat from behind, forcing his weapon to fly out of his hand onto the floor.

"Glenmorrin!" Jhonatan shouted, panicking.

"Don't shoot—too close!" Glenmorrin shouted, his voice strained, his hands trying to break the grip on his neck.

Jhonatan looked around frantically, his eyes catching the table lamp nearby. Without a second thought, he grabbed the lamp and swung it hard at the head of the man choking Glenmorrin.

The man staggered, his grip loosening just long enough for Glenmorrin to turn and land a solid punch to his face, dropping him unconscious to the floor.

The room fell suddenly silent, broken only by the sound of their labored breathing.

"Are you okay?" Jhonatan asked, still holding the shattered lamp, his body shaking hard now that the adrenaline was fading.

Glenmorrin rubbed his own throat, wincing slightly. "I'm fine," he answered. Then, looking at Jhonatan intently, "You just saved my life."

"You just saved mine too," Jhonatan answered back, his voice still shaking. "Twice in one night."

Glenmorrin stepped closer, gently taking the pistol from Jhonatan's trembling hand, setting it on the nearest table.

"We can't stay here anymore," Glenmorrin said, his eyes sweeping over the three bodies on the floor. "They'll send more once these three don't report back."

"Where do we go?" Jhonatan asked.

"I have a place," Glenmorrin answered, already moving to grab a bag from the closet, stuffing files and a spare weapon inside with quick, trained movements. "A place no one knows, not even my own people."

"Why do you have a place like that?" Jhonatan asked, following him.

"Because someone in my position," Glenmorrin answered, slinging the bag over his shoulder, "always needs somewhere to disappear when everything falls apart."

"Is tonight considered 'everything falling apart'?" Jhonatan asked, half-joking despite his still-shaking voice.

Glenmorrin paused for a moment, looking at him. "This is only the beginning," he answered seriously. "Your father won't stop until you're found. And now, they also know you're with me."

"So what does that mean for me?" Jhonatan asked quietly.

"It means," Glenmorrin answered, moving toward the door, extending his hand toward Jhonatan, "you're officially part of my world now. There's no going back."

Jhonatan stared at that hand for a long moment, then at his own hand—still trembling, a hand that had just shot someone, a hand that had just saved someone's life for the first time.

"I don't know if I should thank you," Jhonatan said quietly, "or hate you for dragging me into all this."

"You can do both," Glenmorrin answered, almost smiling. "A lot of people do."

Jhonatan finally took the hand.

The moment their fingers touched, something strange spread across Jhonatan's skin—not just ordinary warmth, but something deeper, like a small electric current that caught his breath for a moment.

Glenmorrin seemed to feel it too. His eyes narrowed, staring at their joined hands with an unreadable expression.

"What was that?" Jhonatan asked, pulling his hand back quickly, his heart pounding strangely.

Glenmorrin didn't answer right away, his eyes still fixed on Jhonatan with a different intensity than before—sharper, more alert.

"When was the last time you ate?" Glenmorrin asked suddenly, his tone shifting.

"I... I don't remember," Jhonatan answered, confused by the sudden question. "Why are you asking that now?"

"Because a stressed and hungry Omega's body," Glenmorrin answered quietly, "often triggers a cycle faster than usual."

"What cycle?" Jhonatan asked, though something inside him already suspected the answer.

Glenmorrin looked at him for a long moment before answering, his voice almost like a warning to himself.

"Your heat," Glenmorrin answered finally. "I just caught a change in your scent."