I rise to my feet, my movements mechanical. When I meet Jax’s eyes, I see a flicker of uncertainty. He expected tears, hysteria, more rage. Not this emptiness.
“Thank you for telling me,” I say. “I needed to know the truth.”
Jax studies me, his head tilted. “Interesting. Most people break when they learn something like this.”
“I’m already broken.” The words come from somewhere far away. “You can’t break what’s already shattered.”
I walk back to my cot and sit down with my hands folded in my lap. I feel nothing. Not pain, not fear, not even hate. Just a vast, expanding darkness where my heart used to be.
Jax watches me, fascinated by this transformation. He’s waiting for the crack in my composure, the moment when I collapse under the weight of this revelation.
But there’s nothing left to collapse. I’ve become a hollow vessel, filled only with shadows.
15
AURORA
Icount the drips. One. Two. Three. Somewhere in this dank cell, water collects and falls, marking time like a broken metronome. Twelve days. I’ve been held captive for twelve days.
After I attacked Jax, they drugged us both. I remember the needle, the burn as something cold spread through my veins, and then nothing. When I woke up, Olivia was gone.
This new place is different. Colder. The walls sweat, and the air feels heavy in my lungs. Underground, I think. I can hear water—not just the dripping, but something larger. A river, maybe, or the ocean. The sound ebbs and flows, a constant reminder of a world I can no longer reach.
My cell is smaller than before. A metal cot with a thin mattress. A bucket in the corner. No windows. The light comes from a single bulb behind a wire cage, flickering occasionally as if it might give up at any moment.
I haven’t seen Jax since he told me about my father. About Hunter. The guards who bring food don’t speak, don’t look at me. I’ve become a ghost to them, something less than human.
“Where’s my sister?” I asked the first time the slot opened, and a tray appeared. Silence. “Where am I?” Nothing. “What do you want from me?” The slot closed.
Since then, I’ve stopped asking.
I worry Hunter will never find me now. If Jax had moved us to throw him off, it would have worked. And even if Hunter does find me... would I want him to? The man who watched my father die and never told me.
I wrap my arms around myself, try to generate warmth. My body feels distant, disconnected. I’ve retreated so far inside myself that physical discomfort barely registers anymore.
The worst part is being separated from Olivia. Whatever happened between her and Jax, whatever complicated mess that was, she’s still my sister. And now I don’t even know if she’s alive.
The door scrapes open. I don’t bother looking up until his shadow falls across the floor.
“Aurora.” Jax’s voice is softer than before. Almost gentle. “I brought you something to eat that isn’t prison slop.”
He sets a paper bag on the edge of my cot. I ignore it. The smell of real food makes my stomach clench, but I won’t give him the satisfaction.
“Where’s my sister?” I ask, finally meeting his eyes.
His face changes, softens. “Somewhere safe. Somewhere... better than this.”
“If you’ve hurt her?—”
“Hurt her?” He laughs, pulling up the metal chair across from my cot. “Olivia is extraordinary. I wouldn’t damage something so... precious.”
The way he says her name makes my skin crawl.
“You know,” he continues, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, “your father was a lot like Hunter. Brilliant, ambitious.”
“You pushed him off that cliff.”
“I protected my position in the Vipers.” His eyes go distant, reminiscing. “The Vipers needed leadership, direction. Your father wanted to join and lead.” He shakes his head. “I wanted to lead.”
