Page 4 of Unleashed (Dark Sovereign #11)

“He’s in love with her,” I mutter, cutting him off, and I swear to God, Caelian’s face contorts into this unnatural mix of shock and disbelief.

“That’s it. You’re getting that fucking lobotomy.”

“Don’t think for one second I don’t want to go over there and drag her ass back to me, because I do, with every fiber of my being. But Everly…fuck, man,” I rub the back of my neck, “she’s different. I know if I push too hard—”

“You’ll push her away,” Alexius completes the sentence and gives me a knowing look.

“Yeah.” I sigh. “So maybe…maybe me being here is me giving her space.”

“Or maybe it’s you being in the middle of some mental episode,” Caelian quips.

“Or—” Nicoli meets my gaze. “It’s you delaying the inevitable.”

Man, those words hurt. Why? Because it’s true. Maybe me being here is less about me putting her needs first, and more about me putting my fears front and fucking center. The idea of her never forgiving me is preferable to the reality of losing her for good.

God, it’s like beast-like claws just hacking away at my chest, ripping through flesh and bone, exposing a living, throbbing heart already hanging by a thin thread. It’s agony beyond comprehension. But it’s my agony. Agony I deserve.

“I need a cigarette.” I stand, and Caelian frowns, pointing at the ashtray.

“This ghastly thing ain’t for decoration, dumbass.”

“And time away from you,” I bite back as I stomp out, straight to the foyer and out the back.

The air outside is cooler than I remember. Not cold, but it bites just enough to remind me I’m alive.

I step onto the patio and drag the pack from my pocket, slipping a cigarette between my lips as I make my way toward the edge where the garden spills out like a memory.

I grew up in that patch of green. Used to race through those rose bushes like they were walls of a maze.

Nicoli chased me once with a BB gun for stealing his knife.

Caelian knocked me into the koi pond when I dared him to jump it.

Alexius pulled me out, then tossed me back in after my incessant whining. Good times.

That’s what this garden is—roots, chaos, and echoes of a simpler kind of war.

I drop down on the top step, elbows on my knees, cigarette glowing between my fingers.

My eyes trace the rows of trees beyond the roses, but all I see is her.

Everly. That tiny crease between her brows when she’s thinking too hard.

The softness of her laugh. The way she kisses like she means it—like she needs it.

How she loves me so freely. Accepts my darkness and molds it into something that’s beautifully and undeniably hers.

It’s killing me not to go to her.

Everything in me is wired to protect her, to possess her, to hold on to her and never let go—even if she begs me to. It’s like I’m fighting against my own nature not to go to her, to beg her forgiveness, to plead for her to come back to me…and then take her when she doesn’t.

On that island, while I killed more people than I’d ever admit to out loud, every drop of my existence screamed and pulsed and oozed to get to her.

I was a fucking beast, a man without conscience because his heart had been taken away.

I had every intention of tearing through this entire fucking country to get to her and then lodge two bullets in Paladino’s skull—the second just to make double sure this time.

Fuck, how I wished I’d killed him the first time. At least she’d forgiven me for that.

But did she really?

“Fuck,” I mutter, placing the cigarette between my lips, inhaling deep.

“Your brother told me you were home.”

I glance over my shoulder at Leandra standing a few feet behind me.

She’s in tailored slacks and a silk blouse tucked neatly at the waist, sleeves cuffed just so, with delicate gold hoops catching the light as she moves.

Not a hair out of place, not a thread unintentional.

Graceful, poised, and every bit the wife of Alexius Del Rossa—even in her calm, casual elegance, there’s power.

But that’s the thing about Leandra—she doesn’t just survive chaos. She tames it.

“Did he also tell you I’m on the verge of completely losing my shit?” I take another drag, let the smoke burn its way down.

She walks over slowly, arms folded. “He said you were brooding. I told him you don’t brood—you plot.”

That earns a faint smirk from me, but it’s gone as fast as it came. “Not this time.”

Leandra sits beside me on the step, quiet for a moment as she stares out over the garden.

“I like seeing you here, Isaia,” she says softly. “It means you listened.”

My jaw tightens. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“I’m glad it's me.” Our gazes lock for a second, and I see nothing but peace in her eyes.

“Fuck,” I mutter, roughing a hand through my hair. “I lost myself when he took her, Leandra. I swear to God, I’ve never experienced anything like it. That complete darkness, like there’s—”

“No hope?”

I glance at her, her green eyes soft and caring. Sympathetic. “Yeah.”

“And you called me.”

“After—”

“It doesn’t matter. You took the time to make that phone call,” she says with a half-smile.

“You controlled yourself, controlled those Del Rossa instincts enough to pause and make that call.” Her tone is delicate, attempting to cushion the jagged shards threatening to tear me apart.

“You were ready to go scorched earth. And maybe you still are. But you didn’t.

You listened. And I know that took everything in you. ”

I stare ahead, letting the silence hang. “You told me if I kept chasing vengeance, I’d lose her for good.”

“You know the story,” she replies, firm but kind. “Alexius nearly broke us when he locked me away. When he thought control meant protection. It doesn’t. You and I both know that.”

I grind the cigarette under my boot, then settle my gaze on the furthest point of the garden. “I wanted to kill my brother when he did that to you.”

“I know.”

I glance at her. “I want to be what she needs, Leandra.”

“What she needs isn’t your war. She needs your honesty. She needs to feel safe with you. Not because you threaten everyone around her—but because you choose her over your mess. Because you control your beast for her.”

“And what if I lose her because of that?”

“Then at least you know you haven’t hurt her more than you already have.”

A hint of a smirk curls at the edges of my lips when I look at her. “You went from interrogating her to giving me relationship advice. That's quite a leap.”

Leandra shrugs elegantly, her smile almost apologetic. “I was quick to judge out of purely selfish reasons and acted like you were mine to lose. But now…Now I speak as a woman who loves a man who’s very much like you.”

I cock a brow at her. “Alexius and me? Alike? I doubt it.”

“Oh, but you are.” She grins. “You’re both fire with no off switch. Rage, hate, love—whatever it is, you don’t feel it, you live it. You let it consume you, define you. And when it’s love…” Her voice softens, but her eyes don’t lose their edge. “You burn the whole world down just to hold on to it.”

I glance away, jaw flexing.

“You don’t know how to love in halves,” she says quietly. “Neither does he. And that’s beautiful…until it’s not. Until it hurts the people you love.”

I huff out a breath, dragging a hand down my face. “So what? I just tone it down? Learn to love like a fucking housecat?”

She laughs, soft and knowing. “No. You learn to hold back when it counts. To bleed for her in silence instead of blowing up the world to prove a point.”

I exhale slowly, pressing my palms into my knees. “You think I can be the man she needs?”

“I think you already are,” she murmurs. “But you need to stop fighting to keep her in a cage and start fighting to deserve her.”

Her words hit harder than I expected, because they’re true.

“I’ve fucked everything up.”

“Yes,” Leandra says simply. “But it’s not too late. Just don’t make her climb through the wreckage alone.”

She nudges my shoulder then stands. “You didn’t come back here to run from your mistakes, Isaia. You came back to become someone she can run to.”

“How long?” I call after her, and she pauses, looking my way. “How long do I give her?”

“You’re asking the wrong question. What you need to ask is how long do you give yourself.”

And then she leaves me there, alone in the garden where I once played as a boy… now drowning in the weight of becoming a man worthy of the woman I love.

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the ring—her wedding ring.

After they took her, I found it just outside the safe room they dragged her from.

Fuck, I can’t get her screams out of my head.

It’s constantly ringing in my ears, making it fucking impossible to let go of the rage.

Every ounce of my being is aching to be with her, to put my arms around her and keep her safe. Keep her mine.

I slip out my phone and scroll to the last incoming call, staring at the number, replaying the conversation in my head. Just one click and I can hear her voice. One click and she’ll know I haven’t let go.

One click…and I’ll lose the last chance I have of getting her back.