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Shay gave him a triumphant smile, her green eyes twinkling like emeralds in the kitchen light. “You were saying?” she purred.

Roman zipped up the backpack, his focus wholly and undeniably magnetized to those pretty eyes of hers. He just couldn’t look away from them. He almost got his finger caught in the zipper.

Shay was the first to break eye contact. Having her rip her attention off him so abruptly like that…it felt like duct tape being torn off broken skin.

Her expression was impossible to read as she grabbed his jacket off a kitchen chair and passed it to him. “Here.”

He took it and draped it over his arm, still failing to look away from her. Fuck, was he pathetic, or what? But to his defense, she wasn’t looking away from him, either. Not like before.

He cleared his throat. “You ready?” He swung the strap of Pax’s backpack over his shoulder, Itzel still happily chewing away inside.

Shay held her arms out at her sides and frowned down at her torn, bloodied, and filthy battle-suit. “As can be.” She crossed her arms, her guarded expression returning. “Once we’re out, we can find me something else to wear.” Memories of a cherry-print thong and a yellow bathing suit flashed into his mind.

His blood warmed in his veins.

“You can always wear some of my stuff if you want.” The husky offer slipped out before he could stop it. He was supposed to be keeping her safe and at arm’s length, not letting her wear his clothes, for fuck’s sake. “Hoodies and shirts or whatever,” he added, feeling more pathetic with every word spoken.

Yeah, as if seeing this beautiful woman prancing around in his clothes was going to make it any easier to get over her.

“No thanks,” she muttered, her eyes rolling upward. The refusal stung, and so did her tone, but they both seemed to have learned their lesson.

Whether or not the lesson stayed learned remained to be seen.

Feet thumped on the stairs.

Pax came around the corner, shrugging on a jacket of his own. The cuts on his face were shining with antibiotic ointment—likely thanks to Shay, who’d gone upstairs with him to help him pack. An adhesive bandage had been taped across the freckled bridge of his nose.

“Ready?” Roman asked him, eyeing the suitcase in the foyer. Comic book print, like almost everything else he owned, apart from the plain backpack he lugged to school every day. Hindsight told Roman he’d opted for plain in effort not to be teased by the bullies he’d never told him about.

“Yup.” He gave him two thumbs up.

Roman strode over and took a quick look in the bag. Most of what he’d packed were video games, comic books, and action figurines. He’d even stuffed the board game calledCryptic Cryptsinside, the box taking up most of the room.

“Where are all your clothes?” Roman asked him.

Pax shuffled over to stand beside him—judging his response while Roman judged what the kid deemed essential.

“I put some socks and underwear in there,” he responded defensively. “Oh, and my toothbrush, too.” It was in a plastic bag, the bristles sticky with a glob of toothpaste he’d failed to rinse off properly.

Roman sighed and shook his head. Good thing he’d already packed some of Pax’s things in his own bag, not trusting him to prioritize what was most important. Like keepsakes and family—minus Don—photos. A toothbrush hardly mattered when there were dozens of charging stations and supermarkets between here and Angelthene, and he was clearly overdue for a new one.

“Do you really need all these games?”

“Do you need the air in your lungs?” Paxton fired back. Roman couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Fine,” Roman said, still fighting a smile. He zipped the bag shut. “You win.”

“Is Travis coming with us?” Paxton’s question was quiet. Cautious.

Roman met his troubled gaze. “Travis is evacuating as we speak, bud,” he said softly. “We need to go and catch up with him.”

Darien had called just before they got here. Travis was making his way to the harbor with the others who’d stayed behind at the hospital. Had he been any closer, Roman would’ve left to get him. But the hospital was too far. He just had to trust that Travis would make it through the forcefield on time.

But gods, was it hard to trust. Hard to let go of control when he was the eldest brother, the one who’d always protected both of his younger siblings with his life. Literally. He’d do it again now, without question—would lay his life on the line not just for Pax, but for Travis, too. His arrival in Yveswich had thrown a huge wrench in the little slice of inner peace Roman had attained upon getting him away from their asshole dad years ago.

And Travis had completely shattered that peace. Betrayed his trust. And now, if he died…

It will have all been for nothing. Every sacrifice, all those years spent apart…