Colton Hurst laced his boots slowly; each tug tighter than it needed to be. His hands shook, though he’d never admit it, not to Cassie, not to anyone. The locker room smelled of leather, sweat, and old dust—an all too familiar cocktail, but tonight it felt suffocating. August Knight’s name was plastered across the card, the next body to stand in Colton’s way, but for Colton, the name didn’t matter. It could’ve been Knight, it could’ve been anyone. The fight wasn’t his anymore.
He should have been home by now. Lily’s voice in his ear, Sammy’s laugh echoing through their Texas home, his father’s gruff wisdom grounding him in ways no match ever could. Instead, he was stuck in Tokyo, shackled to Rupert Mudcock’s endless thirst for power. Each booking felt less like a challenge and more like a leash, dragging him deeper into a war that wasn’t his to fight.
Colton wasn’t a quitter. The Hursts never quit. Their bloodline was forged in storms, bred in fire. But he wasn’t blind, either. He saw Rupert for what he was: a man who didn’t care if the pawns on his board ever made it home. And Colton was tired of being everyone’s pawn.
Cassie stood behind him, silent, arms crossed against her chest. She hadn’t spoken much since the Russians fell, since they carried out Rupert’s orders and turned the tide of the AAPW invasion. Mission complete, or so they thought. Now Rupert wanted more, demanded more, as if the blood they spilled was his to command forever.
Cassie’s silence wasn’t born of exhaustion. It was guilt. Heavy, gnawing, unrelenting guilt.
Kami’s face haunted her. The look in her friend’s eyes the night of the betrayal—it replayed every time Cassie closed her own. The disbelief, the raw wound of trust shattered in one decisive act. Cassie had told herself it was for the mission, that sacrifices were necessary, that betrayal was just another currency in the war they fought. But she couldn’t lie to herself anymore.
It wasn’t just a betrayal. It was a tearing out of her own heart, ripping apart something sacred that no apology could ever mend.
She wanted to feel what Kami felt. Needed it. The same searing ache, the same tearing inside that left scars no fight could erase. To bleed the way her friends bled. To suffer as they suffered. Because only then could she begin to justify what she had done.
But how?
How do you atone for something unforgivable?
Colton stood, testing his wrist tape, his jaw clenched with that stubborn Hurst steel. “This is the last one, Cass. Win or lose, I’m done here. Sammy’s waiting. Lily’s waiting. I don’t care if Rupert threatens, I don’t care if he begs. We’re going home.”
Cassie nodded, but her chest tightened. For Colton, home was still within reach—his family, his life waiting just across the ocean. For her, home was fractured. Because even if she walked away tomorrow, even if she ran back into William’s arms, the shadow of Kami and Hara’s faces would follow her.
Colton fought for release. Cassie fought for punishment.
And somewhere between those two truths, the Hurst siblings stood on the edge of a battlefield they never meant to wage.
