Page 48 of Storm of Stars (Pride of Praxis #2)
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
Bex
My nerves felt like frayed threads as we stood at the entryway of the medical building.
The place was run down, bustling quietly with activity, and yet every sound felt muffled, every color too sharp.
Jax and Ava had been back with us for two weeks now, and every second felt like borrowed time.
Even that felt like too long to wait for this moment, after all the years of desperation and heartbreak.
But things were still tense in the city, and resources weren’t easy to secure right away, even as Edgar worked to redistribute them fairly.
I tightened my grip around Jax’s hand, brushing my thumb over the small, faint scars that marked his skin. This was supposed to be a hopeful moment. But I felt rooted to the spot, unable to take a step, unable to breathe.
“Hey, love,” Thorne said quietly, brushing a shoulder against mine. “You okay?”
I nodded, but the motion felt like a lie. My legs refused to move.
“Jaxy,” Briar said softly, leaning down until she was eye level with him, brushing hair from his forehead. “Why don’t you and I go inside, get you signed in? Bex will be right behind us.”
Jax didn’t hesitate. He offered her that shy, crooked smile that I cherished and laced his hand with hers, disappearing through the door with Briar, whom he quickly took a liking too.
He was just as desperate for a family as I was.
And words couldn’t explain the joy I felt knowing that my Wildguard could be that family for both of us.
I watched until the door swung shut behind them, swallowing hard as decades of fear bubbled to the surface. Suddenly, I was shaking. Suddenly, I felt like I was falling.
Thorne was the first to move, looping strong arms around my waist and hauling me tight against him.
I sank into the solid warmth of him as Ezra pressed in close, brushing the line of my spine with the palm of his hand.
Zaffir was right there too, brushing hair out of my eyes and tucking it behind my ear.
“What’s wrong, Brexlyn?” Zaffir asked, voice low and soft, brushing the edge of my desperation.
“Are you alright?” Ezra asked quietly, brushing a kiss just below the angle of my jaw.
I pressed a shaking hand to my chest, forcing myself to draw breath when Zaffir’s voice came low and commanding. “Breathe for us, baby.”
I tried. The air came in ragged, felt like swallowing broken glass. But I kept going until it was deep enough to sting, until I felt the sting of tears burning my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I finally whispered, brushing the heels of my hands across my damp cheeks. “I should be over the moon right now. This is what we’ve been fighting for. This is why we kept going. But…”
“Love,” Thorne said, brushing the side of my face with the tips of his fingers. “You don’t owe us an explanation. You don’t owe an apology for being scared.”
“What do you need?” Zaffir pressed, brushing a hand down the curve of my spine.
I shook my head, swallowing hard, looking from one to the next until my gaze landed on Ezra. “I don’t know,” I confessed, voice shaking. “I’m just… scared.”
“You’re scared,” Ezra repeated quietly, brushing hair out of my eyes.
I met those deep green eyes and felt the weight of every unspoken thought settle between us.
Ezra pulled me closer, brushing a kiss to the side of my temple as he spoke. “That’s what you’re afraid of,” he said, voice low, soft and sure. “That after all this fighting, after every second we’ve survived, after every night you refused to give up on him… you’re afraid it’s too late.”
I nodded, leaning harder into him as the sting bubbled into quiet sobs. The three of them surrounded me, pressed close until the shaking ebbed and the terror gave way to something quieter, smaller.
Thorne pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “He’s going to be okay, Brexlyn. Whatever happens, we’re here. We’re with you.”
Zaffir framed my face with long, warm hands, brushing away a stray tear.
Ezra pressed closer from behind, resting a hand on my waist, brushing his nose along the shell of my ear as he spoke, low and soft. “That boy is here because you refused to give up on him.”
I drew a breath then, deeper than the one before, brushing the sting of fresh tears from my lashes as I pressed into the circle of the people I loved.
The world was still broken. The ruins of Praxis still haunted every corner of this city.
But right here, pressed between the three men who refused to let me carry this weight alone, I felt my feet finding solid ground.
With my hands tangled with theirs and their support guiding me, we stepped across the threshold into the hospital.
“Jax!” I called, leaning out the door as I watched him and Thorne chasing after a scuffed old ball across the lawn. “You heard what the doctor said. You need to rest after treatments, remember?”
He didn’t reply at first, focusing every ounce of concentration on aligning himself, wobbling for a moment before swinging a leg. The ball rolled forward, wobbly but strong, and Thorne let out an approving whoop as it bumped to a halt just shy of him.
“He also said ‘controlled exercise’ was important for rebuilding strength,” Thorne called out, grinning like the proud big brother he was quickly becoming.
“Traitor,” I sighed, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth as Jax looked back at me, brushing hair from his sweaty forehead, grinning like he wasn’t in the constant pain I knew he felt.
Briar, perched nearby, offered a slow clap and a wink, as she shuffled closer to snag the ball.
The doctors weren’t shy about how hard the years had been on Jax, how much damage had been done by going so long without the treatment he needed.
The illness had progressed further than any of us would’ve hoped.
But despite it all, they were hopeful. Hopeful that we could give him more years, more moments to laugh, to play, to tease, to just be a kid surrounded by people who cherished him.
How many more? They couldn’t say. No one could. But it didn’t matter. Whatever time he had left would be ours to fill with warmth, with belonging, with a love that refused to run out. Every breath he drew was a gift, and every single day we got to spend with him would always be enough.
Ava sank down beside me on the deck with a quiet sigh, brushing a hand over the wood beneath us as she watched my brother race across the yard as fast as he could.
She set her crutches off to the side with a sigh.
The sun was warm on our shoulders, and for a moment, the world felt like it was holding its breath just for us.
“You’ve made something really beautiful here, Bex,” she said softly.
I smiled, brushing hair out of my eyes and looking at the scene in front of us. Jax chasing after a ball as Thorne and Briar egged him on, their laughter rising like music. “Yeah,” I whispered. “But I never could’ve done it without you.”
Ava glanced at me, puzzlement in her tired, strong gaze.
So I turned to her and pressed my hand over hers.
“Ava, you kept him safe. You protected him. You knew what was coming and refused to give Praxis the chance to use him against me. I couldn’t have done any of this if Veritas had gotten to him first.”
Ava offered a shy smile, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.
“I was a part of the Runaways for a long time,” she said quietly, brushing a finger across the moth tattooed on the inside of her wrist. “After Nial died, I promised myself I’d do whatever I could to bring Praxis down. Whatever it cost.”
I watched her, brushing my thumb over that same tattoo. “Why didn’t you tell me?” The question came out soft, and I hoped she could hear the trust behind it.
Her voice was even softer when she spoke. “You always had more to lose than I did, Bex. You had Jax. I didn’t want you to have to choose between standing with the resistance and keeping him safe. So I kept it to myself until you went and found it yourself.”
She glanced out at Jax, laughing as Thorne scooped him up and spun him in a circle. The sound bubbled across the lawn, filling every crack and space where pain had lived for too long.
Ava smiled faintly and shrugged. “Then you met Thorne and Briar, and I knew. The Greys are kind of Runaway royalty. I saw the way you looked at them. They way they trusted you. And then I knew it…you were always going to fight. Always going to rise. It’s who you are, Bex.
The one who fights for those who can’t. The one who finds a way. ”
She adjusted herself, brushing a hand down the thigh where her decades old injury still pained her. “I’ve believed in you since we were kids, Bex. And I’ve never been so proud to call someone my sister.”
I pulled her into a tight hug, brushing my nose into the soft fabric of her shirt. “I love you, Ava,” I whispered.
She gave a quiet chuckle as she stood, adjusting the crutch under her arm. “Yeah, yeah. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment to get fitted for a prosthetic.”
I smiled, brushing a hand down her arm as she started off. “Congratulations, Ava. I’m so happy for you.”
She glanced back with a wink. “Thank you, for making it a possibility.”
As she walked away, I turned to watch the trio still playing in the yard. Jax, with that stubborn streak he got from too many days trying to run before he could walk, was chasing after the ball again.
“Careful, Jax!” I called out.
“I’m fine, Bex!” he yelled back, voice dripping with the kind of sass I’d only ever heard from a certain Grey twin.
“Yeah Bex, we’re fine,” Thorne teased.
I glanced at him, arching an eyebrow. He shrugged and offered a sheepish laugh. Whatever mischief was blooming between those two was going to be a force of nature.