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Her hair is tangled with leaves.

She has blood running down one hand.

But she's standing.

She's fucking standing.

“Roman.” My name breaks in her mouth.

I reach her.

She crashes into me.

My arms close around her, crushing her against me.

She's here. She's warm. She's breathing.

“Chaos.” My hand goes to the back of her head.

Her face buries against my chest. “I knew you'd come.”

Something inside me cracks. “Always.”

She laughs. Or cries. Maybe both.

I lower my face into her hair and breathe her in for a couple of seconds.

Then I pull back. “Where are you hurt?”

“Everywhere.”

My eyes move over her.

Blood.

Scratches.

Bruises already darkening.

Red marks around her wrists.

My vision narrows.

I touch one wrist. Callie winces.

My hand stops. “Sorry.”

“You didn’t do it.”

Four words. That's all it takes.

Someone moves behind her.

My gun is in my hand before I consciously reach for it.

Mercer steps onto the dirt track.

He stops.