Page 31

CHAPTER

TWENTY-EIGHT

Paigelynn

My chest feels heavy. Something presses against me, crushing, suffocating. I gasp, trying to pull in air, but it’s thick and sticky, like I’m drowning in syrup.

My heart pounds, a frantic rhythm that fills my ears.

I look down, and that’s when I see her.

The Mother.

She’s sitting on my chest, her frail body leaning over me, her bony hands clawing at my skin.

Her nails are sharp, cutting through my shirt, digging into the flesh above my heart.

Her oxygen tank rattles beside her, the tubes hissing with every breath she takes.

Her eyes are dark and hollow, but her mouth twists into a wicked grin.

“Give it to me,” she hisses, her voice raspy and cold. “Your heart. It’s mine.”

“No!” I scream, thrashing beneath her, but I can’t move. My arms feel pinned, my legs heavy as lead. “Get off me!”

She leans closer, her face inches from mine. Her breath smells sour, like something rotting, and I gag. “You’re nothing without me,” she whispers. “Just a tool. Just a heart. And now, I’ll take what’s mine.”

Her hand plunges into my chest. I scream as her fingers wrap around my beating heart, pulling it free. It’s still attached, still pumping blood, and the pain is blinding. I look down in horror as she lifts it to her lips.

“You can’t escape me,” she says, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “You never could.”

I try to fight, to scream, but my voice is gone. My vision blurs, the world spinning around me.

And then everything goes dark.

I wake up with a gasp, my body jerking upright. My chest is heaving, my skin damp with sweat. For a moment, I don’t know where I am.

The nightmare clings to me, the phantom pain in my chest making it hard to breathe. I clutch at my shirt, my fingers trembling as I press them against my skin.

My heart is still there, still beating.

And it's mine .

“Paigelynn?” Cam’s voice pulls me back. It’s soft, but full of concern. His arms are around me, holding me close, steadying me. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

I turn to him, my breath catching in my throat. His face is shadowed in the dim light of the safehouse, but his eyes are warm, steady.

He’s here.

He’s real.

Not her.

“I—” My voice breaks, and I shake my head. The words won’t come. My hands are still shaking, my chest still tight.

“ Shh ,” he says, pulling me closer. “You’re safe. It was just a dream.”

I bury my face in his chest, my fingers clutching at his shirt. His heartbeat is strong and steady against my cheek, and I focus on it, letting the rhythm calm me. He strokes my hair, his touch gentle. Slowly, the panic begins to fade.

“She was trying to take my heart,” I whisper after a while, my voice trembling. “The Mother. She said it was hers. Clawed it out of my chest and began eating it. She said I was nothing without her.”

Cam’s arms tighten around me, his breath warm against my forehead. “That's horrible." I feel his heart jump, racing beneath my ear. "She’s wrong,” he says firmly. “You’re not hers. You're – you're free. You are you, and you are beautiful and whole and wonderful.”

Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them away. “It felt so real,” I say, my voice barely audible. “I could feel her... tearing into me. Like she was still there, still trying to control me.”

“She’s gone,” Cam says, his voice steady. “Dead. She can’t hurt you anymore.” Debbie informed us yesterday that Angelina died. Rooney, too. She was found unresponsive in the medical wing of the estate where they kidnapped me, dead on the ground. Cam had no reaction to that news.

Most of the compound was destroyed. Barbara Luisi was taken away via helicopter to the Luisi’s home in Moscow. No news had come in yet about Niall.

“What if she’s right?” I ask, my voice breaking. “What if I don’t know who I am without her? Without the prophecy? What if I’m just... empty?”

Cam pulls back slightly, just enough to look at me.

His hands cup my face, his thumbs brushing away the tears I didn’t realize were falling.

“Listen to me,” he says, his voice low but firm.

“You’re not empty. You’re not just a prophecy or a heart or whatever else they tried to make you believe.

You’re Paigelynn. You’re strong. You’re brave.

And you’re so much more than they ever let you see. ”

His words hit me hard, and for a moment, all I can do is stare at him. His eyes are so full of emotion, so full of belief, and it’s overwhelming. No one has ever looked at me like that before.

I lean into him again, my head resting against his shoulder. “What do we do now?” I ask softly. “Where do we go from here?”

Cam is quiet for a moment, his hand running gently up and down my back. “Whatever you want,” he says finally. “Our future can be whatever you want it to be.”

I pull back slightly, my brow furrowing. “But... what if I don’t know what I want?” I whisper. “I’ve spent my whole life being told what to do, who to be. I don’t even know how to want something for myself.”

Cam’s gaze softens, his hand brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Then we’ll figure it out together,” he says. “One step at a time. You don’t have to have all the answers right now. You don’t have to have any of the answers. We’ll take it slow.”

I bite my lip, the fear and uncertainty swirling in my chest. “What if I make the wrong choice?” I ask. “What if I mess everything up?”

“You won’t,” Cam says simply. “And even if you do, I’ll be right there with you. We’ll figure it out together.”

His words wrap around me like a blanket, warm and comforting. I feel him frown suddenly.

"Unless you don't want me."

I jerk at the thought and pull up, gaping at him. "What?"

Intensity is one of Cam's features, and right now it's all lasered in on me. "You're free. I mean it. In every way possible."

"We're hiding from them in a safehouse, Cam. That's not free."

"This is temporary," he explains. "You don't have to be with me. You aren't beholden to me."

"Beholden?"

"You have choices. I'm not the only man you have to choose."

His words make no sense.

"I want to be with you."

"But you don't have to."

"Are you rejecting me?"

He strokes my cheek. "Quite the opposite. I'm trying to make sure you know you can reject me ."

"I don't want to!"

"It's a big world out there, Princess."

I growl at him. He smiles. "Sorry. Habit."

A few beats pass before I speak. "I understand what you're saying. I'm not bound to you by the wrong emotion, Cam. I don't feel like I owe you."

"Good."

"I mean, I do. But I would never sacrifice my life and happiness to pay off a debt. I spent half my life being prepared for a choice I never got to make. I won't let that happen again."

"The offer stands."

"Is this your way of saying you don't want me anymore?"

His entire body goes rigid. "Fuck, no."

“What about you?” I ask after a moment. “What do you want?”

Cam smiles, a soft, almost sad smile. “I want you to be happy,” he says. “I want us to be happy together. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

His words make my chest ache, but in a good way. I reach for his hand, lacing my fingers through his. “You make me feel safe,” I say quietly. “Like I can actually imagine a life outside of all this.”

“You can,” Cam says, his voice full of certainty. “You’re free now, Paigelynn. We both are. And we can build something better. Something real.”

I nod, squeezing his hand. The fear is still there, but it’s not as loud now. With Cam beside me, it feels like maybe—just maybe—I can start to believe in a future.

A future that’s mine.

I am the prophesy.

Just not the one The Mother thought.