"This isn't a suggestion."
Something in his tone makes me turn. He's moved closer without me noticing, standing just a few feet away. The morning light catches the exhaustion in his face. The tension in his jaw. The stubborn set of his shoulders.
"I'm not leaving him," I say.
"I understand that. But…"
"You don't understand." The words come out sharp. Angry. "You don't understand anything about this. About what I'm feeling. About what I need."
"Then explain it to me," William says, and there's an edge to his voice now. A warning.
But I'm too tired to care. Too wrung out to filter my thoughts. "I lost my mother when I was fifteen." The words come out hollow. Empty. "Sat in a room just like this one and watched her slip away. And now I'm back here, in another hospital room, watching another machine breathe for someone I love." I lookat him, and I can feel the tears threatening. "I'm afraid to blink. Afraid that if I look away for even a second, he'll be gone too."
Something shifts in William's expression. The hardness softens, just slightly.
"He's not going to die," he says, but his voice is quieter now.
"You can't know that." My legs feel shaky. "No one can."
"No. But I can keep you alive." He steps closer, and I see something flicker in his dark eyes. Determination. Or maybe obligation. "And I can't do that if you're sitting in this hospital room, exhausted and vulnerable, making yourself an easy target."
"So that's what this is about?" Bitterness seeps into my voice. "Protecting your asset? Making sure your political alliance stays intact?"
"That's not…" He cuts himself off, jaw working. "You're twisting my words."
"Am I?" I cross my arms, suddenly cold despite the warm room. "Because from where I'm standing, that's exactly what this is. I'm valuable to you alive. So you'll keep me safe, whether I want it or not."
William's eyes narrow. "You want to stay here? Fine. But I'm not leaving. And neither is my security team. So you can sit in that chair and hate me all you want, but you're not getting rid of me."
I open my mouth to argue. To tell him exactly where he can shove his protection and his team and his arrogant assumption that I need him for anything.
But Reilan speaks first.
"Aoife." He's awake now, pushing off from the wall. "He's right."
I turn to my brother, betrayal sharp in my chest. "You're taking his side?"
"I'm taking your side." Reilan comes closer, his expression gentle but firm. "And right now, what's best for you is getting out of this hospital for a few hours. Getting food. Rest. A shower." His eyes flick meaningfully to the blood still caking my dress. "Father wouldn't want you sitting here destroying yourself."
"You don't know what he'd want." But even as I say it, I know Reilan's right.
Father would want me safe. Would want me strong. Would want me to take care of myself so I can take care of him when he wakes.
"I'll take her back," Reilan says to William.
But William shakes his head. "No. My team is ready. We leave now."
"She's my sister…"
"And she's my fiancée." William's voice drops. Goes hard. "Which means her safety is my responsibility."
I watch them face off. Two men fighting over who gets to control me. Who gets to decide what's best. Who gets the privilege of ordering me around.
The rage comes back. Burns through the exhaustion.
"Enough." My voice cuts through their posturing. "Both of you."
They both turn to me, surprise written across their faces. Like they forgot I was standing right here. Like they forgot I have any say in my own life.
