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“I need to be there—”

“Absolutely not.” Sophie’s grip becomes iron as a nurse enters.

Rachel, according to her badge, moves with practiced efficiency, her calm a stark contrast to the chaos in my head. She speaks in that careful tone reserved for breaking patients.

“Your sister’s right—you need to stay in bed. The knife nicked an artery. Between blood loss and shock . . .your body needs time to stabilize.”

“But, I can’t stay here,” I choke out. “I need to be near him. Please.”

Her expression softens. “Right now, the best thing you can do is let us take care of you. Another hour on fluids, and then maybe we can talk about getting you to the surgical floor.”

The nurse finishes her check and leaves, her shoes squeaking softly against the floor. Sophie resumes tracing circles on my palm, but it does little to calm the storm inside me.

Maybe if I’d listened when he asked me to leave the kitchen. Maybe Scar would’ve snapped anyway, but maybe Cade wouldn’t have been caught off guard.

A sob catches in my throat. Sophie brushes the hair from my forehead in a soothing gesture. “Now, now. You heard your nurse. One more hour on the fluids, the we’ll go join the rest. But you need to take it easy. You’ve been through so much trauma.”

Trauma.

This morning I woke up to an emerald ring. Now Cade’s blood is still crusted under my fingernails, and Saint is . . .

“Where is Saint?”

Sophie sighs. “Nico’s people have him. They’re . . . evaluating him.” Her voice gentles. “You’ve asked this before, honey.”

I blink.Have I?Everything’s fuzzy except the fear. “And how is Nico even here?”

“You called him, remember?”.

I shake my head. “No, I didn’t. I only punched in a code.”

Sophie sighs. “Yes, the fancy emergency response Nico has installed into everyone’s phones. It dispatched the nearest team to you. But Nico wouldn’t have known what was happening if you hadn’t called..”

“Sophie.” I shake the cobwebs from my head. “I was told I fainted.”

“Well, you rang Nico before you passed out, Luna. I was in the room when Nico took the call. I heard you.”

I’m too tired to argue, but I know that I did not call Nico. I wouldn’t even know how to find his number on Cade’s phone. And while I’m eternally grateful for that emergency response, it still makes no sense.

“But Cade hates Nico. He’d never let Nico install anything on his phone.”

Sophie’s laugh is soft but genuine. “Oh, sweetie. Those three—Cade, Nico, Dante—they’re the most complicated brothers I’ve ever seen. They spend half their time plotting each other’s murders and the other half saving each other’s asses.” Her smile turns wistful. “I stopped trying to understand it years ago.”

“And Saint . . . ?” The question slips out again before I can stop it.

This time Sophie just squeezes my hand, understanding in her eyes. Because the real question—the only one that matters—remains unanswered.

Will Cade survive?

The next hour crawls by like light years.

When they finally unhook the IV, my legs feel like water. Sophie, likely already exhausted from my incessant questioning seems relieved I’m finally being allowed out of bed.

The doors to the surgical floor open to a wave of hushed voices and restless energy. I’m overwhelmed by the sheer number of people waiting.

Phoenix and his bikers are huddled close, their leather cutting a stark contrast to the sterile hospital walls. Nico stands near the window, deep in conversation with his mirror image—Dante, I assume—who is cradling a pregnant redhead against his chest.

Their presence hits me harder than expected. I know how Cade speaks of the Vitellis, yet here they are, wearing their concern like armor.