Page 50

EVE

The sun was shining brightly as we stepped outside, but the world felt like it was coated in a thin gray film.

Orion walked beside me, his long strides matching my shorter, more deliberate ones. I tried not to dwell on everything, but the thoughts swirled in my mind like smoke I couldn’t grasp.

Still, one thing snagged me, a persistent thread pulling at my focus. My steps faltered, and I stopped abruptly.

I reached for the sleeve of Orion’s shirt, pulling him to a stop. He didn’t resist, just watched me with amused curiosity as I pushed the fabric up, exposing clear, unburned skin underneath.

“I think this might be the weirdest way anyone’s tried to undress me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I muttered, though the smallest smile tugged at the corners of my lips.

He was okay, there wasn’t a single burn mark left on his smooth skin. I let out a shaky breath and let go of his sleeve, my fingers lingering for half a second before I forced them to my sides. My gaze lifted slowly.

The teasing in his expression softened as he took in my worry. He reached out, his hand warm as it cupped my cheek.

“I’m fine,” he said. “You’re not going to scare me off that easily.”

“You should be scared,” I huffed. “What if it happens again?”

I wanted him to flinch. To pull away. To see the fire in me and run. I needed someone to tell me I was dangerous so I wouldn’t have to be the one to say it out loud.

Instead, he pulled me closer, his other arm wrapping gently around my waist. His warmth surrounded me, steadying the wild ache in my chest.

“Eve, I don’t know how many ways I have to say this, but I’m not going anywhere. You’re it for me, Sunshine. The plan may have been for you to fall madly in love, but that’s completely backfired on me now.”

A laugh bubbled up in my chest, surprising even me. It broke through the dread, leaving something lighter in its place.

I smiled up at him despite the nausea churning in my stomach. “It’s not backfiring. It’s very much on track.”

His grin was slow and devastating, his green eyes softening as they searched mine, and then he leaned down and kissed me.

The world fell away the moment his lips met mine.

It wasn’t gentle—not this time. It was an all-encompassing fire, his urgency burning into my soul.

My fingers twisted in the fabric of his jacket, drifting north until my fingers tangled in the silky waves at the base of his neck. I was holding him like I could keep him anchored there forever.

His lips moved against mine with a hunger that stole my breath, left me lightheaded and desperate for more. I didn’t think I could ever get enough of him, even if I felt like I didn’t deserve him.

That thought should have scared me, but it didn’t. Not anymore.

I pulled back, my breaths unsteady as I met his gaze.

The truth I’d been trying so hard to ignore hit me all at once.

It wasn’t just the honesty he’d shown me, the quiet strength he carried, or the way he’d stood up to his brothers for me.

It was the way he looked at me—like he was seeing me for the first time, every time. Like he’d never stop looking.

He pulled away, and my grip on him loosened as the memories bombarded me, telling me I was unworthy of the way he looked at me.

“I killed Sam,” I said quietly. “I thought he was my friend, but he was… one of them.”

“You did what you had to do, Eve. Don’t feel any guilt over him.”

I shook my head, my chest tightening. “It doesn’t feel like that. It feels like I—” My words caught in my throat, and I pressed my forehead against his shoulder, closing my eyes against the rush of emotions. “I need to tell Louise. She deserves to know what happened.”

His arms tightened around me, holding me closer. “You don’t have to do anything right now. Just be with your family. That’s what matters.”

I lifted my head to look at him, my chest aching with the weight of his words. There was no judgment in his expression, no hesitation. Just him, holding me together when I felt like I might fall apart.

The drive was quiet, but I was actually grateful for the space. There wasn’t enough time to prepare myself for what I was about to face. Orion just held my hand as we drove down the highway, holding me steady.

The silence inside me was louder than ever as the trees fell away and the road opened up. I looked ahead—and the world stopped.

The diner was gone. Completely flattened. Smoke still rose from the blackened remains, curling into the pale pinks and oranges of the sunrise. The lights from the fire trucks pulsed rhythmically, throwing sharp flashes of blue over the scene.

Guilt hit me first, sharp and cold, wrapping itself around my ribs like a vise.

It didn’t look real. It didn’t feel real.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the ruins, but I felt Orion’s hand move to cover mine after we pulled over, his warmth grounding me in the chaos. I squeezed his hand back, but I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t.

Instead, I focused on the figure standing near a police car at the edge of the wreckage.

Louise.

She was hunched in on herself, a heavy coat thrown over her floral pajamas, her hair a wild mess that only added to the exhaustion written in every line of her body. She looked so small, so fragile, and it broke something inside me.

I let go of Orion’s hand, pushing the truck door open.

Louise turned her head. She blinked at me, like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Her lips parted, then closed again. And then she ran.

I barely had time to brace myself before she crashed into me, her arms wrapping around me in a fierce grip that nearly knocked the breath from my lungs.

“I thought I’d lost you,” she whispered, the words cracking like dry leaves. “I thought you were gone.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered, my arms circling her tightly. “I’m so sorry.”

Her tears soaked into my shoulder, her entire body shaking, but I held on to her.

After a while, Louise’s grip loosened, and she pulled back, her reddened face scanning mine. Her lips trembled, her breath shaky as she wiped at her cheeks.

Her gaze shifted, catching sight of Orion as he stepped up beside me, his hand finding its place on the small of my back.

“I’m very sorry about the diner,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

Louise stared at him for a moment before surging forward, wrapping him in a tight hug.

“Thank you,” she whispered fiercely, her voice breaking. “Thank you for keeping her safe.”

Orion’s hand brushed against my back as he returned the hug. “I take her safety very seriously.”

He looked at me then—not the teasing glance he usually wore, but something quieter. A tether. His hand brushed my spine, almost like he didn’t mean to linger—but didn’t want to let go either.

Louise let out a watery laugh as she pulled away.

“Good man,” she said, patting his shoulder.

“All of our photos were in there,” she said, her voice cracking. “Granddad, your mom… they’re all gone.”

I reached for her hand, threading my fingers through hers and squeezing tight.

“The photos aren’t important, Lou,” I said, my voice steady even though my heart twisted at her grief. “We’re still here. That’s what matters.”

We stood there in silence, and I stared at the wreckage—the flattened walls, the scorched remains, the smoke curling into the soft pinks of sunrise. Louise’s hand was warm in mine.

Everything that had made this place mine was gone. But we were still here.

Something inside me settled—not healed, not whole, but quiet.

I glanced at Orion, immediately accepting his hand when he reached for me. I didn’t have to do this alone. He was here. They all were.

And maybe that was enough for now.