Just as they got back on their feet, Ethan blocked their path.
Blood ran down his right arm from a gunshot wound, yet his eyes blazed–wild, fevered, unhinged.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he rasped. “Ash is mine. I won’t let anyone take her from me! If I’m
going down, we’re going down together.”
He raised his gun again, pointing it directly at Cyrael.
Without hesitation, Cyrael pulled Ashley behind him and kicked a nearby chair at Ethan. In the moment it took him to dodge, Cyrael lunged forward and kicked the gun from Ethan’s hand.
“You think you’re even worthy to fight for her?” he sneered, before scooping Ashley into his arms and making a run for it.
But just then, a stray bullet sliced through the air–headed straight for them.
Ashley reacted instinctively. She shoved Cyrael aside but couldn’t dodge in time herself.
Bang.
A dull, sickening thud split the silence–the sound of a bullet finding flesh. Ashley froze, her body numb as
warm blood sprayed across her cheek.
But the pain didn’t come.
Ethan had stepped in front of her.
The bullet tore through his chest, grazing her face. He swayed, and then collapsed toward her.
Cyrael stepped between them and caught Ethan’s body before it hit the ground.
Ethan’s eyes flickered with sorrow, his lips trembling. Even now–he wasn’t allowed to die in Ashley’s arms.
“Ash… I’m just glad you’re okay,” he whispered.
“This heart… the one I owe you–consider it returned. It’s still warm, and it loved you.”
“If my death is worth a single tear from you… then maybe it’s not in vain.”
“Right here…” Ethan lifted a trembling hand to his chest. “Doesn’t it look like the missing piece of that
puzzle? If there’s a next life… will you save me again?”
“I’ll love you, truly. I’ll protect you, spoil you. I’ll give you the traditional wedding you always dreamed of…
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>
I’ll even sew the qipao myself…”
Hope lit his eyes even as blood bubbled from his lips. His words kept tumbling out like a broken tape
recorder.
“Ash, your foster father’s watch–I had it fixed. It’s at our place… I bought the house. Everything is just like it used to be… come back home, won’t you?”
“I swear I’ve changed… if there’s a next life… please, just one more chance…”
Ashley stood rooted to the spot, her gaze fixed on the gaping wound in Ethan’s chest. Her face was expressionless, as if her soul had left her body.
No matter what Ethan said, she gave no response.
The gunfire had stopped. Ethan’s mercenaries had all been arrested. Guests who had been traumatized at
the wedding were now escorted away by security.
Silence settled–heavy, airless, and cold.
Only Ethan’s ragged breathing remained.
“Ash…” he gasped weakly, “say something… I…”
He coughed, and another mouthful of blood poured out. His vision was dimming. Desperate, he reached
for her.
Ashley didn’t speak. She simply tugged Cyrael’s arm and gave him a look.
Understanding, Cyrael gently lowered Ethan to the ground.
Moments later, police officers surrounded Ethan and loaded him onto a stretcher. Even then, his gaze
never left Ashley–eyes locked, trembling lips moving soundlessly.
He still hadn’t heard her say a word.
The bullet had torn straight through Ethan’s heart, shredding his coronary artery. By all accounts, he
should’ve been dead on arrival.
But somehow, he kept breathing.
Held on.
Waiting.
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Doctors called it a medical miracle.
The Canadian authorities took special notice and decided to initiate full–scale emergency resuscitation- both to save his life and to study what made him survive something no one else could.
Now Ethan lay in a secure, off–grid facility–tubes threaded into every limb, his body in stasis, undergoing
constant testing.
Yet still…
He refused to die.
