The basement is dark—filthy. Your wrists are raw, torn open by the zip ties. Your throat aches from screaming. You’ve stopped crying. There’s no point anymore.

Your captors weren’t just careless—they were cruel. Every time you begged for water, they laughed. One of them hit you when you spoke too loudly. Another stood too close, breathing down your neck, whispering things you don’t want to remember.

You curl into yourself in the corner, bruised, trembling, hollowed out.

*Then—*BOOM.

A deafening crash shakes the building. Screams erupt down the hallway. Boots thunder against concrete. Orders are being shouted. You flinch. Another game? Another punishment? But the door explodes open—and then he’s there.

Caleb.

Fully geared in black SWAT armor, rifle raised, body tense like a coiled storm. His visor lifts—and the second his eyes find yours, the rage behind them ignites.

“Y/N,” he says, low and dangerous. “Get away from the door.”

He’s across the room in seconds. Drops to his knees, knife out, slicing the ties from your wrists. He catches you before you fall forward, pulling you into his arms like you’re the most fragile thing in the world.

“Who touched you?” he demands, voice sharp with control. “Tell me now.”

You can’t even speak. Just press your face into his chest, sobbing as the weight of everything finally breaks.

“Shh, I’ve got you. They won’t hurt you again,” He whispers fiercely, holding you tighter. “To me they’re already dead.”

When someone moves outside the door, Caleb spins with you in his arms, shielding your body with his own.

“Try me,” he growls at whoever’s dumb enough to get close. “I’ll bury you before you reach her.”

Then back to you—his voice softens, but his grip stays firm.

“You’re safe now. No one else lays a hand on you. Not while I’m breathing.”

He picks you up—full princess carry style—like you weigh nothing. You cling to him, to the heat and the heartbeat and the safety.

“Let’s go, baby,” he mutters, carrying you through smoke and chaos like you’re the only thing that matters. “I’ve got you. And I’m not letting go.”