One Night With My Alpha Professor by Eve Above Story

Chapter 266

Audrey & Third Person

Audrey

The building trembled around us, the walls groaning as if the entire structure was on the verge of collapse. Dust choked th air, thick and suffocating, as chunks of ceiling began to rain down in showers.

But I didn’t run. I couldn’t. I stayed right there, cradling Edwin’s head in my lap.

“Get up!” Peter’s voice cracked as he crouched next to me, desperately gripping my shoulder. “Audrey, we have to go! The whole place is coming down!”

I didn’t answer, didn’t look at him. My vision was blurred by the tears streaming down my face, my focus only on the man bleeding out in my arms. I pressed my hands into his wound, willing it to close, but it was no use. That scream that had ripped from my throat had drained every drop of my power in one burst.

Edwin’s blood had already soaked through his shirt, a dark stain that was spreading too quickly, like a deep crimson flower. The bond between us pulsed with our shared pain as his life force slipped away.

I had to stay. I needed to be with him. If he wasn’t going to make it, then neither was I.

Edwin’s chest rose and fell in shallow gasps, and his hand trembled as he lifted it, his fingers brushing my cheek. “Co. The children,” he rasped, his voice barely audible over the deafening noise of the collapsing warehouse. “You have to… get them out. Get yourself out.”

I shook my head fiercely, choking on a sob. “No,” I whispered, the words breaking as they left my throat. “I can’t–Betty and Peter can handle that. I’m not leaving you.”

Betty appeared beside us then, her face streaked with dirt, her wide eyes shimmering with the same fear I felt curling in my chest. She knelt down, grabbing my blood–soaked hand. “Audrey-”

“I’m staying,” I said, yanking my hand away and jerking my head toward the door. “You and Peter get the children out. All of them.” I met Peter’s gaze. “That’s an order from your Luna.”

Peter clenched his jaw, torn between his duty and his desire to stay. He looked like he wanted to argue, but he knew there was no time. He gave a single, stiff nod, then rose to his feet, pulling Betty up with him. They were already calling out to the children below as they sprinted toward the stairs.

then it

little star,” Edwin whispered, his voice so weak now that it sent a fresh wave of panic surging through me. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, his fingers twitching as they traced

pressed my forehead against his. “I’m not leaving

roof collapsed nearby dust and debris filling the space around us. I could feel the

voice barely a whisper now, “Live…

my throat tightening as I gripped his hand, pressing it against my

“Together or not at all, I won’t

were glazed as he looked up at me, but his gaze was soft,

break me in two.

he breathed, the words so quiet, I almost didn’t hear them. “In this life…

kiss tasted of blood, salt, and all the promises we had made and would neve to

I whispered back.

the ceiling gave

Third Person

the warehouse doors, each of them carrying two children with them. The cool wind hit th like a slap to the face, the sudden shift from choking dust to fresh air a jarring contrast against their

time to breathe befor

children, guided by the older ones,

away from the collapsing building as possible, his arms tightening around the children he carried. He turned as he ran, glancing over his shoulder, and

was the earth itself. A large, jagged rift in the dirt had begun to open, threatening to swallow the warehouse and anyone who dared to stand near

Peter shouted, his

her own arms filled with children, but her face was pale, eyes wild with fear. They had barely cleared the distance when the building finally gave out, collapsing inward with an earth–shattering

of dust and debris hurtling toward them, knocking both Betty and

a blur of noise and chaos. Children cried out, some screaming, others too shocked to make a sound. Betty struggled to her knees, her breath coming out in ragged gasps.

she wasn’t looking at

breaking as she lifted a trembling