Willow's POV
It happened too fast for it to make sense, too fast for my mind to catch up with what my eyes were seeing, because one second Ethan was standing in front of me, his anger still burning through everything that had already shattered between us, and the next the world broke open with the sound of glass exploding inward, sharp and violent, scattering across the room like something out of control, and he was there, the man from the shadows, the one who had been watching me, following me, stepping into every part of my life without asking, without warning, without permission.
He didn't hesitate, didn't stop, didn't even look at anything except Ethan as he moved, fast and precise, like this wasn't new to him, like this was something he had done before, and before I could even fully understand what was happening, the gun was already there, pressed against Ethan's head, cold and final in a way that made my entire body lock.
Fear hit me all at once, sharp and suffocating, stealing the air from my lungs as I looked between them, my chest tightening painfully as reality crashed down harder than anything that had come before. I didn't think about what Ethan had just done to me.
I didn't think about the way his hands had hurt me, the way his words had broken something I didn't know how to fix. None of that mattered in that moment. All I saw was him standing there with a gun to his head, and something inside me reacted before I could stop it, before I could question it, before I could even understand it.
"No—"
The word barely left my lips before my body moved on its own, faster than my thoughts, driven by something instinctive, something desperate, because no matter what had just happened between us, no matter how much it hurt, I still loved him. That didn't disappear. That didn't vanish just because things had turned dark. And I couldn't stand there and watch him die.
My hand shot out, grabbing the gun, pushing it away just as the trigger pulled.
The sound was deafening.
A sharp crack that echoed through everything, through the room, through my chest, through my head—
And then pain.
It hit me a second later, delayed but overwhelming, tearing through my hand in a way that didn't feel real at first, like my body didn't understand what had just happened until it was too late to stop it. My breath caught violently, a broken sound ripping from my throat as my fingers curled instinctively, my entire body reacting as the pain spread, sharp and blinding, making everything around me blur for a second as I tried to stay upright, tried to stay conscious, tried not to collapse under it.
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't think.
All I could feel was the burn, the pressure, the shock that pulsed through me with every heartbeat, each second making it worse instead of better.
And then he was closer.
Too close.
The same man.
The one who had just shot me.
I felt him move, felt his presence shift toward me, heavy and overwhelming in a way that made something deep inside me snap into pure, instinctive fear, stronger than anything else, stronger than the pain, stronger than the confusion, stronger than the connection I didn't understand and didn't want.
"Don't—!"
The scream tore out of me before I could stop it, raw and broken as I pushed myself back, my body trembling violently as I tried to create distance, as if that would somehow protect me, as if that would undo what had already happened.
"Don't touch me!"
My voice shook, cracked, barely holding together as I stared at him, my chest rising and falling too fast, too uneven, my vision blurring around the edges as fear took over completely.
He had just shot me.
I didn't care why.
I didn't care what he thought he was doing.
I didn't care what I had felt before.
All I knew was that he was dangerous.
Terrifying.
Unpredictable in a way that made my entire body react before my mind could catch up.
"Stay away from me!" I cried, my voice louder now, sharper, desperate as I shook my head, my fingers pressing weakly against my injured hand as if that would somehow stop the pain, stop the bleeding, stop everything from falling apart around me.
"Get the fuck away from me!"
The words came out harsher than I had ever spoken before, filled with something raw and uncontrollable, because I needed distance, I needed space, I needed him gone, needed everything to stop before I completely lost control of myself.
"Fuck off!"
My breath hitched violently, tears blurring my vision as I looked at him, really looked this time, forcing myself to focus despite the pain, despite the dizziness creeping in, despite the way my body felt like it was starting to give out beneath me.
And what I saw didn't make it better.
It made it worse.
Because he wasn't just angry.
He wasn't just dangerous.
There was something else in his eyes, something darker, something deeper, something that didn't match the situation the way it should have, something that made my stomach twist in a way I couldn't explain.
And I hated it.
I hated him so fucking much.
"Leave him alone!" I shouted, my voice breaking as I forced the words out, my gaze snapping back toward Ethan for a second before returning to him, anger and fear mixing into something sharp and unsteady. "Just—leave him alone!"
The room spun slightly as I spoke, the edges of everything softening, my strength slipping further with every second, my body struggling to keep up with everything it was being forced to handle at once.
I looked at him again.
Directly.
And this time, there was nothing else in me but that.
Hatred.
Pure.
Burning.
Unfiltered.
Because no matter what he thought, no matter what he felt, no matter what connection he believed existed—
He had hurt me.
He had broken into my life.
And now he had shot me.
"I hate you," I whispered, the words quieter now, weaker, but no less real as they left me.
The last thing I saw was his face.
The last thing I felt was the pain still burning through my hand.
And then everything went dark and quiet.