Page 41 of Always A Villain (Revenge Duet #2)

A harsh glare shines through my eyelids, stabbing straight into my brain. I blink, squinting against the light pouring through a window, trying to make sense of the heaviness weighing down my body. Every muscle feels like it's been wrung dry, and a sharp, throbbing pain burns in my stomach.

Where the hell am I?

Bits and pieces filter in. Dinner. Creed. Axe. The memory hits hard, and panic surges me to awareness.

“Axel!” I rasp, my voice cracking into a strangled sob. I cough, and pain flares in my abdomen, sharp enough to make me wince.

“Rory.” His deep voice breaks through the fog. “Baby, I’m right here.” He brushes his fingers through my hair in slow, gentle strokes .

The world comes into sharper focus—the sterile, white walls, the relentless beeping of machines. A hospital.

I turn my head, and there he is, his dark eyes locked onto mine.

His usual undercut has grown out, thick strands falling over his forehead, and the sight jolts me.

There’s a roughness to him, like he hasn’t seen a razor or a bed in days.

Stitches mar his forehead, a deep bruise spread across his temple.

The way he’s slumped forward, hands around mine, says it all—he’s exhausted.

“Why are you so far away?” I whisper. He tries to smile, but it’s more of a ghost than the real thing.

Leaning forward, he brushes his lips against mine, and I pull him closer, weakly, not caring about the pain.

He carefully climbs in beside me, shifting his weight as I scoot over, biting back the discomfort.

I look down at the bandages peeking from the hospital gown. “How bad is it?”

“It was close.” His strong arms wrap around me, holding me like I might break. He’s a wall of warmth, his lips pressed against my hair.

“Axe…” I open my mouth to speak, but the words tangle in my throat, refusing to come.

“Shh…I’m here.” His kiss trails over my tears, gentle as his fingers tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I thought I was going to lose you,” he admits, his voice thick with emotion I’m not used to witnessing from him. “I can’t ever feel that way again, Rory. I won’t.”

“I love you,” I whisper, and he leans in, lips brushing mine, soft but fierce, like he’s trying to seal those words into my skin.

“I love you too, Rory. More than you could ever know. ”

His voice. His touch. Everything I thought I’d never have.

“How long was I out?” I ask, fighting the need to break down again.

“Four days.”

The memory hits me in flashes. “It was Creed,” I whisper, my jaw clenching as images flood back—him taking me, his twisted grin.

“He’s dead. That bastard isn’t taking anything from us ever again.”

“And DeLuca?”

“Gone. All of them.” His arms tighten around me. “We hunted every last one.”

“And the other Sovereigns?”

“Safe. Spencer’s here. He just stepped out for a moment.”

I glance down, noticing his bandages, the bruising creeping up his neck. “What about you?”

“I’m fine.” But I catch the wince that tightens his jaw as he shifts, and I reach for his shirt, pulling it up. Bruises and stitches cover his torso, dark against his skin. My breath catches.

“Axe…why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because you’re all that matters,” he says roughly. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” My finger grazes the stitched line across his ribs, his muscles flinching. “This isn’t nothing. You were shot.” And judging by the number of stitches, more than one time.

“It’ll take more than a few bullets to stop me,” he says, flashing a cocky grin. “I’m the Reaper, remember?”

I lift my eyebrow. “And immortal? ”

“Something like that.” He pulls me against him. “All I could think about was getting to you. Nothing else mattered.”

I melt against him, his warmth soaking into me. He runs his fingers down my spine, and I close my eyes, savoring the feel of him. But more memories surface, and I shudder as the weight of it all hits me again.

I can’t stop the tears this time, and his grip tightens. “Rory?”

“Antonio told me everything…about my mom. How she died.”

“I know, baby.”

“It was him,” I choke out. “That bastard isn’t my father.

My whole life…it’s been a lie.” My anger spikes, and a twisted, dark truth surfaces.

“I hate him, Axe. I want him dead. He raped her. I heard everything. He tortured her, beat her. All those years, he made me think it was my fault. And all along…it was him.” Anger and grief bleed out in sobs.

“He’ll get what he deserves.”

I suck in a shaky breath, throat tight. “I want him dead. He sold me to the Dolore like I was nothing.” As the words tumble out, every buried feeling breaks free, and I sob.

“Little siren,” he murmurs, gripping me tighter. “He’ll pay. I’ll make sure of it. You have my word.”

“Hey, baby sis.” Spencer’s deep voice interrupts as he steps into the room. “Decided to finally join us again?”

“Spence…” I manage to whisper as he pulls me into his arms, Axe reluctantly giving him space. My brother’s arms wrap around me, familiar and safe, and the grief breaks loose again, my tears soaking his shirt.

“You’re okay now,” he says shakily, like he’s barely holding it together himself. “I’m so fucking sorry, Rory. I should have… I should have protected you. I should have done something.”

“Spence.” I clutch him tight. “I don’t blame you. Not for any of it.”

His fingers dig into my shoulders gently, searching my eyes. “You’re my little sister, Rory. Always.”

No matter what, Spencer will always be my brother. Blood related or not.

The nurse bustles in, eyes widening when she notices I'm awake, and soon, a doctor arrives. I’m shuffled to the back, where I endure the poking, prodding, and clinical questions. An ultrasound and a check of my stitches later, the doctor nods approvingly.

“Your surgery went well, Rory,” he says with a reassuring smile. “A few more days here, and you should be good to fly.”

“So, what happens now?” I ask as the nurses and doctors file out of the room.

Axe’s eyes lock on mine. “We go home,” he says, a slow, confident smile breaking through. “And we start planning our wedding.”

The word hits me like a shock of happiness. “I love you, Axe,” I say on a breath, pulling him closer, my lips brushing his.

“I love you too.” His hand slips to the back of my neck, his kiss tender, yet so full of promise it’s almost dizzying. Right here, everything feels like it’s falling into place.

Spencer clears his throat. “Sooo…should I give you two some privacy?”

“Yes,” Axe says, barely glancing his way .

“No,” I chime in, grinning as Axe scowls.

Spencer just smirks and pulls me into another quick hug. “I’ll come back.” Squeezing my shoulders, he slips out and closes the door.

As the door clicks shut, Axe’s hands find my face. “Now, where were we?” he says, eyes darkening.

“You were telling me how madly you love me,” I tease, smiling. “And how you’re dying to marry me and have babies with me.”

“Babies?” he shoots back, brow furrowing. For a moment, I see that hint of hesitation, a flash of something I know stems from his past. We’ve never actually talked about kids...or any real future plans.

“Do you want kids?” His voice is low, uncertain.

“Yeah, someday,” I admit, biting my lip. “I mean, I know it’s a big thing, and we’ve been through so much already, but?—”

“I’ll give you anything you want. You want a family? It’s yours.”

I blink, caught between his words and the weight of his promise. “Really?”

“Anything,” he repeats, that roughness back in his voice. “I don’t know shit about kids, but I’d do anything to make you happy. Whatever it takes.”

“Axe…” My breath hitches as he leans closer.

“You’re everything to me. I can’t imagine life without you. Let me prove it to you. Every day. For the rest of our lives.” His lips trail down my neck. “A home, a family, a future. Whatever you want, it’s yours. Always.”

“A red-armored Urus,” I say, flashing a grin up at him .

“Already ordered.” He laughs, a rare, genuine smile showing his teeth. My heart stumbles over itself, and before I can catch my breath, he’s pulling out a small, black velvet box.

The lid flips open, displaying a diamond ring so stunning it almost blinds me. For a second, I can only stare as the stone catches the light, throwing tiny rainbows.

“Axe…” I gasp, glancing up at him.

“I figured you might appreciate a more traditional symbol of love,” he teases, sliding the ring onto my finger. “Better than another collar,” he adds with a smirk.

I roll my eyes, unable to stop the glare that creeps up, and he just chuckles before pulling me into another kiss.