Page 52 of Echos and Empires (After #3)

TWENTY-FIVE

Three hours of trudging through thick underbrush left a dull ache in Emma’s muscles, but she wouldn’t let the boys carry her, not when she’d insisted on making the journey.

Her own feet. Her own strength.

Her babies deserved a mother who was as strong as possible for what came next.

She pushed on, legs trembling under her, and curls sticking to her neck in sweaty tendrils. A determined fire burned through her body even as her steps slowed and faltered. She saw her men exchange worried glances.

Chris raised an eyebrow. Bash set his jaw. Alex physically reached out for her. While she couldn’t see Liam or William, she knew Liam would have done the same if he weren’t leading, and William most certainly did behind her even though he didn’t need to.

They all saw her determination, and they all saw her slow. When she stopped at a tree, Bash swooped in without warning, pulling her into his arms. She barely had the energy to protest. “I am going to walk.”

He opened his mouth to protest and she scowled at him.

“I am going to walk.” She repeated, trying to keep the huff of low oxygen out of her words.

“You’re going to be like when we met.” Bash hadn’t asked a question. “Fine. For now.”

She tried not to smirk at the memory of them alone in her house that first night. If only she’d known who he truly was then, she would have never let him sleep in the main house…or sleep at all.

Pride braced her against the swelling fatigue.

Emma had to be strong. For them, for the resistance.

The hours dragged under the unyielding sun, each step an effort, each breath like lifting her chest out of deep waters.

But she refused to give in. Stubborn. Her fingers grazed the rough bark of a tree for support, the terrain uneven and wild.

Their steps rustled through the weeds, a whispered rhythm as they followed the old dirt road.

Chris and Liam led the way, quietly bickering about the best path.

Alex walked backwards for a stretch, grinning as Emma tried not to laugh.

Bash stayed closest, the hulking shadow beside her, protective and patient.

They all slowed to match her pace. She pretended not to notice, pretended not to care that each stride jolted through her aching muscles.

“You’re looking pale, Emma,” Bash finally said, breaking the silence with a gruffness that barely hid his concern.

“I’m fine,” she lied. The words sounded thin, breathy.

“At least let us take some of that load,” Alex offered, nodding towards her pack.

She shook her head, more adamant than she felt. “I’m fine.” Another lie, hanging in the dry air. Ranger gave a bark and she glanced down at him, staring into his knowing amber eyes. “Come on, Ranger.”

Emma’s vision began to blur at the edges, lightheadedness creeping in. Her breathing came shallow and quick, but she kept moving. One foot, then the other. She wouldn’t admit it—not to them, not to herself—but every part of her was exhausted.

At last, her resolve wavered, and she stopped. She sat on a boulder, trying to right herself when arms wrapped around her.

Bash.

He picked her up before she could think to protest, his arms solid around her small frame.

She yelped in surprise. “Put me down!”

“Not a chance,” he grunted.

“I mean it!” She squirmed half-heartedly, but her muscles were spent.

He tightened his hold, voice softening. “Hush. I’ve lifted weights heavier than you. And that’s with those two bundles growing in there.”

Emma tried another protest, but the truth stilled her tongue. They’d always said she was small. That she was delicate. And now, so much depended on her. She couldn’t risk the babies. Not when it felt like a miracle. Her hands stilled against Bash’s chest, heart racing in panic at the realization.

“You’re not gonna risk it,” Bash said, the concern leaking through his sternness. “Not for pride.”

Emma pressed her face into his shoulder, fighting the tears of frustration that threatened to fall.

The babies. She hadn’t let herself think about it fully, the reality and danger of carrying them, not until the words left Bash’s mouth.

She’d only thought about being strong for them.

Maybe this was just another test she had to pass to be the best mother she wasn’t ready to be five years ago.

He pulled her closer. “You gotta trust us. Trust me.”

Chris turned, slowing. “You know what he’s like, Emma. Can’t let it go once he’s made up his mind.”

“Think of it as weight training,” Liam added, his voice lighter but with the same insistence.

Chris chuckled. “Better than any dumbbells.”

Emma hesitated, caught between her stubbornness and their safety.

“Think of it as a chance to relax while helping me get a little work out in.” Bash’s words reached her, and this time, seemed to coax her into melting into his arms.

She was safe there. Warm. Protected.

It was a relief. The enormity of it all. The babies. The resistance. The expectation that she would lead them. She let her eyes close for a moment, the comfort of being held a balm to the raw edges of her worry. They’d do it together. The six of them. And she couldn’t risk it, not even for pride.

She could hear Chris and Liam joking up ahead, Alex calling over his shoulder, Bash breathing steadily as he carried her, and William seemingly kicked up leaves as he walked behind.

She opened her eyes, taking in the scenery.

Endless and raw and full of promise, just like the lives growing inside of her.

Just like their future, if they could make it through the coming days.

Bash glanced down, meeting her gaze. The world could explode again around them, but Emma knew they’d be there, each one of them, to catch her.

She was exhausted, and everything hurt, and a smile cracked across her face, anyway.

They would win, or they would die trying.

But right now, in Bash’s arms, there was only safety. Only love.

A moving sea of bodies stood along the coast, the sheer number of people there striking Emma like a tidal wave.

More than she’d ever imagined, nearly half the island had responded.

She knew some of them would be Victor’s people, and some at risk of the vitamin’s control, but they were here.

Her family had made enough of an impact that people trusted. People came.

Some she recognized from their months on the island, faces as familiar as her own.

Others must have been part of the recent arrivals, faces marked with fresh desperation.

A rising knot of nerves lodged in her chest, and she realized it wasn’t just the six of them anymore.

The freedom of so many now rested on her shoulders.

“Put me down,” she didn’t ask, her voice clear. “We cannot let them see me as weak. Frail. I don’t want a sympathy resistance. I want the one centered on fighting against what’s wrong with this damned island.”

Bash’s steps didn’t falter, but she felt his hesitation in the way he held her, in the tightening of his grip. He knew the toll it had taken on her to come this far. They all did. But this was something she had to do, had to show them.

His chest rose and fell as the sight came past his lips. “You sure about that?”

Emma nodded, more resolute than she felt. “I can’t let them think?—”

Bash cut her off with a knowing grunt, already bending to set her on her feet.

“Thought you’d never ask the big lug to let go,” Alex teased as her boots hit the ground. Relief flickered across his face, but so did understanding.

There was a pause, a beat of stillness as she found her balance, waiting for her legs to buckle. They didn’t. She let herself lean on them just enough to breathe, one arm linked with Bash’s and the other firmly held by Alex.

“They’re all waiting for us, Emma,” Liam called, a hint of awe in his voice. He stood with Chris, both of them pausing to look back, urging her on. Encouraging. Protective.

The ground seemed to shift under her, and she wondered if it was the earth or the weight of what she was about to do. It felt larger than the world, larger than her. But there was no going back now. They needed to know the truth. They needed to hear it from her.

Taking a deep breath in and blowing it out, Emma forced one foot in front of the other, each step building towards the future they dreamed of. Each step, a quiet act of defiance.

She moved with them, her five men. A small, fierce unit against a system so much bigger. They walked with purpose, Alex on one side, Bash on the other, fingers laced tightly with hers as the others fell back into their positions from the walk over.

For a moment, all she could see was the enormity of the task, a living tapestry she had to weave into a resistance with only her words as proof. An impossible burden to carry, but it was hers. And she wasn’t carrying it alone.

She glanced to the side, her eyes finding Bash. He gave a small nod, the reassurance in it settling some of her nerves.

Closer now, close enough to feel the anticipation from the crowd, to hear the scattered murmurs growing around them. Her head spun with thoughts of how to begin. How to reach them all.

Chris and Liam were out in front, hands raised to still the crowd. But the buzzing voices only grew louder.

Emma steeled herself, hoping the shaking didn’t reach her legs, her voice. Her heart.

She was the voice of this now, the pulse of it. The hope. The heart. But her mind screamed that she wasn’t ready, would never be ready. She gripped Bash and Alex’s hands tighter, the warmth of their bodies grounding her in the chaos.

“Quiet!” Chris shouted, his commanding voice cutting through the noise. “Everybody, quiet!”

The shift was immediate, a collective breath drawn in by what seemed like millions of lungs.

Heads turned in unison.

Faces.

Eyes. So many eyes.

All on her.

Waiting.