My chest tightens around the words. “So thank you. For saving my life. For bringing me here. For letting me fight beside you… and trusting me.”
Conan points a finger at me like I’ve personally offended him. “Don’t,” he warns. “I might cry.”
I smirk.
“You’re safe to cry here, Con,” I deadpan. “Just don’t do it in the cage.”
The room breaks with laughter.
Conan scoffs, shaking his head. “Hey,” he says, grin returning. “You owe me.”
“I didn’t forget,” I reply, leaning back. “Just tell me when. I’ll fight you.”
And just like that…
We slip back into that family dynamic I always longed for.
“Is it too early for whiskey?” Finn chimes in.
I shrug. “I could really fucking use a drink.”
My brothers. Not by blood. But forged into my heart anyway.
Just like Charlotte and Isabella did all those years ago. Just like Lily has.
And for the first time in my life…
I’m leaving somewhere, not because I have to run, but because I finally have something worth living for.
CHAPTER NINETY-TWO
Lily
The scan photo is folded in my hand so tightly it’s starting to crumple. It’s barely anything right now.
A tiny blob. A promise that doesn’t feel real yet. But it’s mine. Ours.
My fingers tremble as I walk down the hospital corridor, my heart thudding so hard it feels like it’s trying to climb out of my throat. The smell of antiseptic is everywhere, sharp and clean and wrong for something this messy.
Drago is right behind me. Close enough that I can feel his heat at my back. Close enough that if I falter, he’ll catch me before I hit the floor.
His hand keeps hovering near my waist like he doesn’t trust the world not to take me again. Like he doesn’t trust himself not to break if it does.
I glance back, and he meets my eyes immediately, his face hard with control but cracked at the edges.
“You okay?” he murmurs.
I nod even though I’m not sure what okay means anymore. “I’m… trying,” I whisper.
He reaches around me and laces our fingers together, squeezing once. A silent,I’ve got you.
We stop outside Dad’s room. The one I’ve walked into every day for the past week with a sick hope in my chest and a smile that never reaches my eyes.
The nurses know us now. They don’t even look twice when Drago stands by the door like a guard dog.
I stare at the handle.
My palm is damp.
