Page 3 of Revenge Saints (BloodHawks Duet #2)

“B ryn! You’re alive?!” I stagger toward her, but a brutal knock to the head sends me crashing to my knees.

“Jesus, Roman!” Bryn snaps. She drops in front of me, hands frantic. But my head’s spinning, blood pouring fast from the bullet wound. I try to focus. Can’t. The floor’s slick beneath me.

“You shot him?!” she shrills, cutting through the fog.

“Not me, princess,” Roman drawls. “Your now-dead boyfriend did.” He steps beside me like this is all a fucking joke.

“For fuck’s sake!” she shouts, pressing hard on my shoulder. Fire blooms through my arm, and I grit my teeth.

“And Aspen?” Bryn asks, quieter now. Something dark hiding beneath the softness.

Roman sighs like he’s bored. “She got away. But I told her I’d let Dante go if she came back.” That amused tone, like Aspen’s nothing more than bait, makes my blood boil. I try to rise, but I drop again, knees folding under me.

Fuck. I’m too weak. And fading fast.

“Leave Aspen alone,” I growl.

“No one will hurt her. I promise.” Bryn whispers it so softly I almost miss it. But there’s something in her voice that chills me. Like she’s not making a promise to me, but to herself.

Roman doesn’t miss a beat. “You two. Help him up. Take him to one of the rooms.”

Hands grab me.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” I snarl, trying to rip free, but I’ve got nothing left.

Pain flashes through my scalp as Roman yanks my head back by the hair.

“You either behave,” he growls, “or I put a bullet through your skull.” His breath is hot on my ear. “Aspen’s coming. I don’t need you anymore.”

Aspen.

They drag me downstairs. My boots scrape the steps. Bryn walks ahead, her finger pointing toward a room.

Aspen’s old room .

Fuck me.

“Damn, this guy’s heavy as hell,” one of them laughs.

They drop me onto the mattress. My shoulder’s on fire, vision blurred. I’m trying, and failing, to slow my heartbeat. Blood pools fast. I feel it dripping down my arm.

“I’m dying,” I whisper. “Don’t let Aspen come, Bryn. Please.” My chest seizes. It’s not the pain; it’s the thought of Aspen walking into this nightmare. Of Roman touching her. Twisting her. Breaking her, just to hurt Knox. Just to ruin me.

Bryn kneels beside me. “She’s safer here than out there,” she says softly, like she actually believes that shit. Her hand finds my face, turning it toward her.

“And you won’t die, Dante. I have plans for you.”

“You sold us out,” I croak.

Her hand stills. For a second, just a second, something in her face cracks.

Then she leans in close. “I told Roman what he wanted to hear,” she says calmly. “I told him Aspen was the key. That if he took you, she’d come. That the Bloodhawks would come.”

My stomach twists.

“You knew what he’d do,” I whisper.

“I thought I could control it,” she says, eyes flicking away. “That if I played it right, no one had to die. But then Ethan… Roman doesn’t like being handled.”

I let out a bitter laugh. Blood sputters with it.

“You think you could handle Roman?”

Her jaw tightens. “You don’t know what he’s like with me. I made him listen. I made him wait.” Her voice breaks. “And when I told him Aspen wasn’t just bait, that she could be something more.”

“What the hell does that even mean?” My vision is dimming.

“You all treated her like she was breakable. Like she had to be protected at all costs.” Her voice goes hard. “I saw more in her than that. I saw someone who could lead. Who could change this broken fucking world with me? But you kept her boxed in. Kept her small.”

She stands, her fists clenched. “I didn’t want her dead, Dante. I wanted her free. I wanted her beside me.”

I stare at her. I don’t recognize this girl. Not anymore.

“So you faked your death. Helped Roman take the base. Got Ethan killed.”

Her eyes glisten, but she blinks the tears away like they disgust her. “Ethan made his choice. He knew the risks.”

“You loved him.”

“I don’t love,” she says quietly. “And neither did he.”

A knock at the door.

Bryn turns, composed again. “This is Sean,” she says gently. Her fingers sweep through my hair like nothing just happened. “He’s a doctor.”

“Hello, Dante.” I force my eyes open. An older man stands at the bedside, probably in his late sixties, worn but steady. He drops an old leather bag beside me and starts pulling out tools.

“Get me that little table, my dear,” he says to Bryn. She drags it over, the screech of wood on tile carving straight into my skull.

“You might have a concussion,” he mutters, peeling my eyelid open and shining that blinding fucking light into my eye .

“No shit,” I grunt, head throbbing.

“Bryn, get him something to bite on. A leather belt would be perfect,” he adds, all calm and clinical. She disappears from the room.

I try to breathe, but it’s like my lungs forgot how to work. Everything tightens.

“I don’t have anesthesia,” Sean says as the sharp scent of alcohol mingles with the copper of my blood. “This is going to hurt, Dante.”

“No problem, just,” I cough hard. My body jerks. Trembling.

“Easy,” he mutters. “You’re going into shock.”

From the corner of my eye, I see him twist a cap off a bottle. He slides a hand behind my head, lifts it with unexpected gentleness, and holds something to my lips.

“This will help you relax.”

The whiskey burns on its way down, a fire that hits my stomach and fizzles out like smoke. It doesn’t do shit. But I don’t say a word. I just nod, breathing through the pain clawing at my shoulder and chest. I need that bullet out now .

“Got it!” Bryn returns, holding a thick leather belt in her hands. My eyes lock on it.

Max’s belt—

Fucking hell.

Sean doesn’t waste time. He takes it from her, then presses the worn leather against my lips. “Open and bite down. Trust me, you’ll need it.”

I obey. Not my first time. Not even my worst. But it’s been a long damn while since I felt this close to the edge .

He leans forward, scissors in hand, and cuts straight through my shirt, steel slicing fabric with a crisp shhk . Cold air hits my skin as he peels the shredded cotton aside. Bryn moves in to help, her fingers grazing my stomach, slow… like she’s savoring it.

“Bryn,” I whisper.

She leans in, close enough that her breath fans over my cheek. “Yes, Dante?” Her tone is sweet, dripping honey.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

Her hand freezes.

She jerks back like I burned her, the sugar vanishing from her tone. “Well, fuck you then. Deal with him yourself,” she spits and storms out.

Sean lets out a soft chuckle, not looking up from the mess of blood and torn muscle. “You shouldn’t push her, my boy. That woman’s dangerous.”

Those words echo in my skull. Bryn? Dangerous ? The same girl who cried in Aspen’s lap the night when she kissed Ethan? Who begged to stay with us like a lost puppy?

What the fuck happened to her?

“Fuck!!” My body arches off the mattress as the scalpel bites into my shoulder. I clamp my jaw shut around the belt, leather grinding between my teeth. My scream’s silent, swallowed by instinct and pain.

“Try not to move too much,” Sean mutters, steady hands working beneath the skin. “Bullet’s in deep. Close to the bone.”

I grit my teeth harder, my entire body trembling .

He presses gauze around the area, mopping the excess blood, then picks up a pair of forceps. I feel the cold metal slide into the open wound, digging, prying. Every nerve in my shoulder screams. My vision whites out at the edges.

“Almost there…” Sean’s face fades under the roar of blood in my ears.

A sharp pinch , and then something clicks .

“Got it.”

He pulls the bullet free, blood trailing in thin threads from the forceps. My chest heaves. Sweat drips from my brow. I don’t let go of the belt; I can’t.

Sean sets the slug on the metal tray with a soft clang . He doesn’t even pause before cleaning the site, dabbing iodine into the raw, exposed muscle. The sting is instant, like acid chewing through flesh. I twitch, biting down so hard my jaw pops.

“Need to close you up now. Stay with me.”

Sutures. Thread biting through skin, tugging, knotting. Each pull sends a new wave of fire across my shoulder. My breathing turns shallow.

And then, darkness starts to crawl in.

I hear him, faint. “You did good, son.”

But all I see now is Bryn’s face…

Then Aspen’s.

And fuck, my mind starts slipping.

The darkness presses in, thick and suffocating like smoke in my lungs. My chest tightens. Every nerve in my body screams to wake the fuck up, but I’m too far gone.

The blood on my skin clings like ice. My pulse is fading, a ghost against my throat.

And then I see her—

Bryn.

Just a flash of her face. Eyes wide with terror. Roman’s finger curls around the trigger, and

Bang.

She crumples.

Like paper.

Fragile.

Broken.

Her body hits the floor, and the world twists with it, colors bleeding, sound warping into nothing.

“No…” The word scrapes out of me, dry and lifeless.

Then—

A flicker.

A light.

Small. Distant. But it’s there, like a candle gasping for air, and she steps out of it .

Aspen.

Bloodied, bruised, but standing. Fierce. Fucking beautiful. Her eyes lock on mine, and I feel like I can breathe again.

She says softly, “Dante… don’t leave me.”

I reach for her. My hands tremble like I’ve been buried alive. The world is spinning off its center, but I don’t care; I need her. I want her. I pull her close, and when our lips meet, it’s like I’ve been dragged out of hell just for this.

She’s everything. The only thing keeping me from falling apart.

But it changes.

The kiss turns colder. Her lips are too greedy.

The taste isn’t hers.

And when I open my eyes…

It’s not Aspen anymore.

It’s Bryn.

Her face inches from mine, eyes dark like the fucking abyss. She smiles, but there’s no light behind it. Just hunger. Possession. Desperation.

“I saved you, Dante,” she whispers against my mouth.

I try to pull back. My limbs won’t move.

Her grip tightens. Her nails dig into my shoulders. Her kiss deepens, too eager, too damn wrong. It’s not affection. It’s a claim. And I feel it, that snap deep inside me, the moment when grief turns to dread.

I’ve been played.

“Let me go,” I try to say, but the words drown under her lips.

I fight .

I fucking fight.

But the dream is stronger. The darkness wraps around me again, suffocating.

“The next twenty-four hours will be touch and go, but there’s nothing more I can do,” Sean says, his voice dragging me up from the void like a rusty hook in my chest. Each word cuts through the fog.

“Who cares?” Roman is next, cold, careless, like I’m already rotting. “He served his purpose.”

I want to lunge at him. Tear his fucking throat out. But I can’t move. Can’t speak. I stay still, breathing slow and measured, eyes closed.

Just a corpse with a pulse.

“She’s not coming.” Bryn slices through the room.

“She’ll let him die?” Roman sounds genuinely surprised. Don’t tell me he didn’t think Aspen had in her to leave Dante behind, the girl lived alone for years.

“Knox won’t let her,” she says. “And Aspen’s not stupid, Roman. She knows the price.”

Footsteps. Light. Controlled.

She’s close.

Her presence slides over me like silk soaked in poison.

“This one’s stubborn,” she purrs, and her fingers glide into my hair as if she owns me. Like she’s petting a wild thing she thinks she’s tamed.

“But I can bend him.”

Bend me?

My teeth ache with the urge to bite her goddamn fingers off. Right to the bone.

Fucking bitch.

“We need to let him rest. I’ll check on him in an hour,” Sean mutters, and a moment later, the door shuts behind him with a dull click of the lock.

I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, every inch of my chest burning as I drag air back into my lungs.

The room is empty.

But she’s here.

Aspen.

Her scent clings to the air like a memory I can’t shake. It stabs straight through the fog, rips me back into the worst place possible. This is where Knox kept her when she tried to escape. This fucking room.

Everything hurts. My limbs are heavy, my veins are ice, and I can’t move without feeling like something inside me is tearing apart. But I have to keep thinking. I can’t let the blood loss, or the lies take me down.

What the fuck happened?

Ethan betrayed us. Sold us out to Roman. That part makes sense. He was always a coward. But Bryn? She betrayed us… and him?

I close my eyes, trying to string the madness together. Bryn met with Roman through Ethan? And then… what? She made another deal behind Ethan’s back? Let him die?

Pretended to be dead?

But Aspen , she had blood on her. She saw Bryn’s body .

Unless…

Unless Aspen lied?

My heart stutters. No. No fucking way.

I saw her. The way she broke. The sound of her when she said Bryn was gone. That wasn’t a lie. That wasn’t acting. Aspen doesn’t have that in her.

She couldn’t have lied to me.

Not her.

Not my little doll.

I struggle to keep my thoughts from spiraling, but I can’t...

I feel the darkness embracing me again…