Page 41 of Rose

Ahzii could barely breathe. The blinding white lights overhead blurred through tears and smoke-stung eyes, the sterile hospital air clashing violently with the scent of ash and blood clinging to her skin.

Alarms beeped somewhere in the distance, growing louder, sharper—until they felt like they were inside her skull.

“Her pressure’s dropping—she’s crashing!” A nurse’s voice pierced the fog of her mind.

Pain radiated through her body, sharp and unforgiving, but it was the emptiness beside her that hurt most. William.

Her trembling hand reached toward nothing, toward the man who held her through nightmares and promises and morning laughter.

Gone. The word pressed against her chest like a boulder.

He didn’t make it out of the fire. She had. But not whole.

“She’s bleeding internally—get the OR prepped now!”

They were talking about her. About the baby. The daughter she hadn’t even named yet. The one she whispered to in the quiet of their bedroom, the one William kissed goodnight through her belly. The one they were supposed to raise together.

Willow Miani.

Her name is Willow, Ahzii thought, clinging to it like a lifeline. Her little girl deserved to live. Deserved to feel sunlight on her face. Deserved more than a mother half-broken and a father buried beneath rubble and flame.

The gurney jolted, and the ceiling lights became streaks. The beeping of machines. The cold sting of the anesthesia. Her heartbeat thudding in her ears louder than the monitors. Then—nothing.

When she opened her eyes again, the world was still. Silent. No crying. No tiny screams. No pink bundle wrapped in warmth. Just silence.

A nurse hovered near, eyes wet, unable to meet hers. A doctor stepped forward, mouth moving slowly, carefully, like every word was a blade.

“We did everything we could… but there was too much distress. We couldn't revive her. I’m so sorry.”

Ahzii blinked. Once. Twice. Her mouth stayed open, but no sound came out. The world dropped out from under her, and she felt herself shatter inward—quietly, devastatingly.

They placed Willow in her arms anyway. Still. Beautiful. Perfect. Ahzii stared at her daughter’s tiny face, her lips pressed into a frozen pout, lashes resting like feathers on soft, warm skin.

She traced her fingers down her cheek, aching for a breath, a twitch, a miracle. But her baby girl didn’t move.

“I’m your mama,” she whispered, voice breaking. “And I’m so, so sorry.” She held her for hours .

Pressed her lips to Willow’s forehead. Memorized every inch of the daughter she wouldn’t get to raise. And when they finally took her away, Ahzii wasn’t sure if they took Willow… or the last living piece of herself.

Willow was gone. And so was William. Ahzii stared at the ceiling, unmoving, as if even blinking might make the nightmare real.

But it already was. Her body had survived a bullet.

A fire. Loss. But her soul—her soul hadn’t made it out of that room.

All she could do was scream without sound, bleeding in places no one could reach.

“Allure… what’s wrong? You’re shaking,” Savior murmured, tightening his arms around her trembling frame as more tears streamed down her cheeks. She wasn’t sobbing or screaming, but the silent quake of her body, the way her tears kept falling without pause, it gutted him.

“Allure, look at me.” His voice was low, coaxing, as he gazed down at her. Her head rested against his chest, her face pressed into the warmth of his skin, soaking it with grief he didn’t yet understand.

Last night had been everything he needed.

After the chaos of the family meeting, after the storm stirred by his father and Lazarus, Ahzii’s presence had been a balm he didn’t know he was desperate for.

They’d ended up on the couch watching a movie.

She fell asleep in his arms before it ended, and he told himself he’d put her in bed and go.

But then she asked him to stay. And it felt like she’d asked him for forever.

He stayed. Of course he did.

It didn’t take long for sleep to claim them both. But Savior hadn’t really slept. Not with the way her body kept twitching, the way she whimpered in her sleep, cried out soft, broken sobs in the dark. The way she kept whispering the same name over and over.

Willow.

Now the sun was up, and she was staring blankly at the wall, tucked under the comforter, her face buried against his damp chest. Her body still shivered like she was standing naked in snow. And no matter how tightly he held her, it didn’t stop.

“Ahzii…” Her name left him again, gentler this time. She finally looked at him.

Her eyes were swollen and red, her lips parted like she wanted to speak, but didn’t. Another tear slipped down, and he reached up, wiping it away with his thumb.

“Sorry,” she whispered hoarsely. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Bad dream?” he asked, his hand moving in slow, comforting circles along her back, hoping—praying—she’d give him something.

“More like… a bad memory.” She brushed at her face quickly, trying to wipe away the evidence.

Savior pulled her upright, but she resisted, pushing against his chest.

“No, Sav. I don’t want to talk about it, sit in it, or feel it. Just forget it.” She tried to climb out of his arms.

“Allure, come the fuck here,” he said, calm but firm.

“I’m literally right here,” she muttered, still laying on her side, not meeting his eyes.

“Ahzii.”

There was warning in his tone now .

She sighed, annoyed, but moved, climbing into his lap, straddling him, her oversized shirt falling around her thighs. No panties. His hands instinctively gripped her bare ass as her weight settled against him.

He didn’t move. Didn’t smirk. Just looked up into her face.

“Who is Willow?” he asked, voice so soft it nearly disappeared between them.

Her entire body tensed.

“What?” she said, playing dumb, but her eyes already gave her away.

“You kept calling for Willow in your sleep,” he said gently, lifting a hand to touch the gold chain around her neck. “And her name is on that necklace.”

Her hand flew to the pendant, clutching it like it might disappear. Her jaw tightened.

“My boundary, Savior. Telling you is breaking my boundary. And asking… is too.”

He held her face in his hands, thumbs brushing along her jaw, his eyes never leaving hers.

“You right,” he said after a long pause, voice steady even though every part of him burned with questions, with the urge to fix something he didn’t understand.

But he let it go. Because she needed him to.

“You’re dick is poking me, Savior,” Ahzii muttered, trying to shift off his lap. His dick, hard and thick, pressed against her through the thin barrier of his underwear, impossible to ignore.

“This what you do to me, Allure,” he said with a cocky smirk.

She turned her head, trying to hide the heat rising in her cheeks. It was infuriating how easily he flipped her mood, how one second she could be ready to fight, and the next she was blushing like he hadn’t just pissed her off hours ago. He pulled too many emotions out of her. Way too fast.

“I can take care of that,” she said, bolder than she meant to be.

After the memory she’d relived in her sleep—one that tore her open from the inside out—she needed an escape. Needed him to fuck her out of it. To make her forget everything else existed.

“I know you can,” he said, his eyes dropping to her thighs, “and you will. Later.”

She mugged him. “You denying me my dick?”

The words left her mouth before she thought them through, and they echoed, sharp and familiar. She’d said them before. The last time had been in the tub, right before William made love to her in a room full of steam and bubbles. Their last night together.

Savior’s face softened. “Never that. But I need to handle something first. Sarai and Kyre are coming up soon to get you ready.”

She blinked, thrown off. “Ready for what?”

He smirked, leaned up, and kissed her neck, then her lips. She let him. Hell, she wanted him to kiss her somewhere else too, especially right now.

“Your man is taking you on a date.”

She couldn’t help the blush that crept up, but she refused to let it go unchecked. “And let me guess—I have to say yes even if this breaks my boundary?”

“Yes, you do. Just don’t fall in love with me after the first date,” he teased .

She rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. He stood with her still in his arms, pressing another kiss to her lips before setting her down gently. He was always gentle with her, even when he was fucking the soul out of her. His hands, his mouth—always soft. Always careful.

And that did something to her.

This massive, dangerous man with death in his eyes always turned to silk for her.

He moved across the room to grab his sweats, and Ahzii stayed where she was, watching him shamelessly. The way his muscles flexed with every movement, the tattoos stretching across his back, the cut of his abs—she admired all of it, unbothered about getting caught.

“My fuck buddy is fine!” she said with a laugh, folding her arms and grinning.

Savior looked up while lacing his Nike Dunks, smirking at her goofy smile.

“She’s slowly coming out,” he said under his breath, pride flickering in his eyes.

“Who?” she asked, brows furrowing at the way he looked at her.

He shook his head. He saw her— really saw her—but he knew she wasn’t ready to see herself yet. So he didn’t push it.

“Nothing,” he said. “Just like seeing you smile.”

Before she could respond, the sharp buzz of her phone cut through the moment.

Ahzii glanced down at her buzzing phone and sighed when she saw Kyre’s name.

She answered. “Hello—”

“Are y’all done fucking so we can come in?” Kyre cut in, not even pretending to greet her properly. “We’ve got appointments to get to and don’t need to be late.”

“What appointments?” Ahzii asked, watching Savior pull on his shirt before grabbing his wallet and keys. “What do y’all have planned that I don’t know about?”