Page 120 of BounBound By Scars

“Is she okay?” I croaked.

Kaylan looked up, offering a soft, sad smile. “She’s fine. Stable.”

I nodded, but it didn’t really land.

“I talked to Dylan,” she continued, her tone shifting into something more resolute. “Managed to convince him to go into her room. And I’m here to do the same for you.”

Her voice was firmer now, the Kaylan I knew—the woman who didn’t leave room for argument.

“You haven’t seen her in three days, Kabira,” Logan added quietly.

The way he said my name—Kabira—felt like a punch to the chest. I should’ve told him not to, but the truth was… it made me feel like I was still tethered to something. To someone. Family.

I wasn’t about to give him that ammunition, though.

“Go see her,” Kaylan said, her hand cupping my cheek. “She’s doing better, I promise.”

I nodded, because I knew I had to. I wanted to. But it was hard—so fucking hard—to watch the person you love disappear in slow motion.

“I’ll see you later, Chaos. Let me take him.” Logan gave Kaylan a quick kiss and helped me to my feet.

“Have his hand checked,” she called out gently.

We left the Command Center in silence, heading for the clinic upstairs.

???

I heard him before I saw him.

The soft, ragged sobs. The uneven breaths pulled from lungs that weren’t built to tremble like that.

I had asked Logan to let me go alone. He’d returned to Kaylan, but not before making sure my hand was cleaned,bandaged. No stitches needed—just a warning that I’d clench too tightly again if I didn’t get my shit together.

But how could I?

Because the sound I heard now—that broken, unfamiliar sound—was Dylan.

I’d never heard him cry like this. Not even when Riley had died. That kind of grief didn’t fit a man like him. It felt wrong. Alien. Like the world had tilted sideways and hadn’t corrected itself.

How the fuck was I supposed to face him?

I had let his sister down. Let him down. And I had no way to make it right.

He didn’t hear me come in. Just stood there—towering, quiet but unraveling—by her bed. His back to me.

My gaze shifted to her. Amelia.

MyHeer.

She was small. Too small beneath the sea of tubes and wires. The bandage around her forehead made her look even more fragile. I knew the cut had needed stitches, but seeing it… seeing her like this—it did something to me.

She looked gaunt. Hollow. As if the fire had been pulled out of her and left in my hands, burning me instead.

I wanted to go to her. Touch her. Beg her to wake up. But my feet… they wouldn’t move. Like the floor had swallowed them whole.

Then I heard him. Dylan.

Muttering. Barely audible. But I caught it.