Page 150 of The Silent War

I didn’t have the energy to stand, let alone strike a lighter. My whole body was lead. The last twenty-four hours had gutted me.

I’d lost my twin. Nine hours of silence, not knowing if he was dead or bleeding out somewhere I couldn’t reach. I’d cleaned a massacre in three locations. Faced Damius. Publicly stated at Dynasty level we were responsible for executing three heirs. Retaliation for that will come when we least expect it. In ways we can’t predict.

And her.

We lost her too.

I begged. I dropped to my knees like a man praying at a grave, begging her not to shut down, not to turn away. And somehow—somehow—she stayed the night.

Now it was morning. And I was waiting to see if that meant anything.

The bedroom door opened.

I didn’t move. Couldn’t. My hand stilled on the cigarette, my eyes stuck on the floor. But I felt her. Every step, soft against the hardwood, every shift of weight that made my chest ache like I’d been stabbed.

She was out here. Awake. Which meant whatever came next could break us for good.

I forced myself to look up.

Emilia stood in the hall, her hair loose, tired, eyes swollen from too many tears. She looked at me first, then at Luca.

He was worse than me.

Bruised. Wrapped ribs. Eyes bloodshot. He hadn’t spoken much since last night. He didn’t need to. His silence told me enough.

We sat like men waiting for a sentence. And she was the judge.

“Morning, baby.”

The words scraped out of me before I thought better. They didn’t even sound like mine. My throat was raw, broken from crying more in one night than I had in my entire life. Not even when we were kids or when they buried our mother.

Her gaze flicked between us. I begged her in my head—let us be enough.

She stood straighter. “So the plan is just to keep killing men who have the misfortune of being betrothed to me?”

The question cut like glass.

“I told you two a long time ago this ends with us all with other people.”

My thumb rolled the cigarette again. “Is that what you want?” My voice was low, rough. “Don’t give me the answer you gave years ago. Tell us the truth, Emilia. Do you want us, or not?”

Her jaw tightened. “That’s not fair, Bastion. I told you my answer four years ago—before you walked out of my life.”

“Then remind us,” I said. My voice cracked and I had to steady it with a breath. “Because all I hear is silence. Yes or no, baby. Are we enough for you? Fuck the rules. We’ll break them to fit us. But we don’t break you. So do you want this? Us?”

Her lips parted, then closed. She squeezed her eyes shut like the weight of it hurt. When she opened them again.

“You two are the only choice I’ve ever let myself have,” she whispered. “I’ll always choose you two.”

My chest hitched. Relief, pain, both at once.

But then her mouth twisted. “Loving you is the only thing I’ve ever let myself have. And it hurts. It really hurts knowing someone else can just take it.”

The cigarette slipped from my fingers onto the table. I didn’t care. Tears burned hot at the corners of my eyes. I opened my arms without thinking. “Come here.”

She walked to me slow, then dropped onto my lap like she was surrendering. My arms closed around her instantly, holding her tight.

Her cheek pressed to my shoulder, her body small against mine. I looked up—and Luca’s eyes met mine.