Hold On: Chord Overstreet
They regrouped with Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper in the corridor. Emmett had James slung over his shoulder, the latter muttering weakly about how he wasn't cut out for this level of heroics.
Edward barely heard him.
"RUN!" he bellowed, his voice raw.
They sprinted through the crumbling hallways, the air thick with smoke, alarms blaring like a death knell. Behind them, the explosion detonated.
A force unlike anything Edward had ever felt slammed into his back. Heat roared through the facility, consuming oxygen, warping metal, and chasing them with an unrelenting inferno.
The world had exploded.
The blast hit them like a shockwave from hell, a tangible force that sent them flying. Edward felt himself lifted, weightless for a horrifying moment before slamming into the ground with bone-rattling force. The impact jarred his wounded shoulder, and a fresh wave of agony lanced through his body. He gasped, pain tearing through every nerve ending, but none of it mattered—
Bella.
His fingers scrambled through the debris, through dust and fire and broken glass, until he felt her.
He pulled her against him, shielding her as the world burned.
Flames licked at the shattered remains of the lab, smoke curling in suffocating waves, embers swirling through the settling evening like dying stars. The ground trembled with aftershocks, the dying gasps of a building torn apart from the inside.
Edward knelt on scorched earth, barely able to keep himself upright, his body screaming for relief. But none of that compared to the unbearable weight in his arms.
Bella.
Her body was limp against his chest, her skin far too cold despite the fire raging around them. Blood seeped from her wound, soaking into his tactical vest, hot and endless and wrong. He pressed his palm harder against the wound, but it was too much, too deep—
He was losing her.
No, no, no—
His breath hitched, his chest heaving as he held her closer, willing his own warmth into her, as if that alone could pull her back. Her head lolled against his shoulder, and for a horrifying second, he thought—
No. She's still breathing. Just barely.
"Come on, Bella," he whispered, his voice hoarse, desperate. "Stay with me. Just a little longer."
He rocked her slightly, his lips ghosting against her temple. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to do something, to fix this, but all he could do was hold her.
He wasn't ready.
Not to lose her. Not now. Not like this.
His heart pounded in his chest, fighting against the suffocating panic clawing at his ribs. His fingers tangled in her hair, in the strands matted with sweat and soot, brushing them from her pale face. Her lashes, dark against her ashen skin, barely fluttered.
He had never been so terrified in his life.
A shadow shifted through the firelight.
Edward's head snapped up, his teeth clenched, his body still instinctively trying to shield Bella despite the agony wracking his frame.
A figure stepped forward, moving with an eerie calm.
"Well, well," came the smooth, mocking voice, slicing through the destruction like a blade.
Edward's stomach turned to ice.
Aro.
He emerged from the smoke, his coat billowing slightly from the heat waves, his gun already raised. The cold gleam of the barrel reflected the flames licking at the ruins behind him.
"What a touching scene," Aro murmured, his lips curling into something that wasn't quite a smile.
Edward's muscles coiled, but his body betrayed him, too weakened by blood loss to react fast enough. His breath came in ragged gasps, his grip tightening on Bella. He tried to shift, to put himself between Aro and her, but his limbs felt leaden, his strength rapidly waning.
Aro's dark eyes gleamed. He saw the weakness.
His smile twisted into something cruel.
Then—without hesitation—he pulled the trigger.
The gunshot was deafening.
Pain erupted through Edward's shoulder, a fresh, merciless agony ripping through muscle and bone. His body jerked violently as the impact drove him forward, but even in his spiraling haze, even as white-hot pain blurred his vision, his instinct never wavered—
He shielded Bella.
His arms locked around her as they hit the ground, his body absorbing the brunt of the impact. The force rattled through his bones, sending a fresh surge of pain splintering through his already broken body.
The world wavered at the edges, dark spots creeping into his vision.
Pain. It was everywhere.
His body screamed in protest, every nerve set ablaze. His chest heaved, but each breath was shallow, ragged, wrong. The weight of exhaustion, of blood loss, pressed down on him, drowning him in suffocating blackness.
But through it all, one thought remained.
Bella. Bella. Bella.
His mind clung to her like a drowning man to a lifeline, even as his grip on reality frayed.
Then—
A second shot rang out.
Loud. Sharp. Final.
Aro's body staggered, his cruel sneer vanishing into something empty.
Then he collapsed, his body hitting the ground with a hollow thud.
Jasper stood in the distance, rifle still raised, the barrel still smoking. His expression was carved from stone, his jaw tight, his shoulders heaving.
Aro's voice would never taunt them again.
But Edward barely registered it.
His body sagged, his grip on Bella slackening as his strength gave out.
The sounds of the world dulled—fire crackling, debris crumbling, his team shouting his name—fading into a distant hum. His pulse was a sluggish drumbeat in his ears.
His vision blurred as he looked down at her, the weight of exhaustion settling deep in his bones.
Even now, even as the world fell apart, she was beautiful.
The delicate curve of her lips. The angle of her jaw. The way her lashes laid against ruddy, soot-coated cheeks.
She had changed him.
Torn down walls he didn't even realize he had built.
Made him want. Made him hope for more.
Made him fear the very thing he had spent his life running from—losing something that mattered.
He swallowed thickly, his throat raw as he fought for breath.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking. His hand trembled as he brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingertips barely grazing her skin.
"I wanted more time… with you."
His chest ached—not just from the bullet wound, but from the weight of everything he couldn't say, couldn't fix.
A single tear slipped down his cheek, lost in the soot and sweat.
He tried to hold on.
Tried to stay conscious.
Tried to fight the darkness swallowing him whole.
But as he breathed her name, one last time, a prayer, a promise—
The world finally went black.