He didn’t look at her yet. Couldn’t. His breath came slow and controlled, like he was wrestling himself back into the man he needed to be.
He looked up sharply. “You stay here. Door locked. Don’t open it for anyone but me or Stone.”
She nodded. “I promise.”
He crossed the room in three long strides and cupped her face, kissing her hard and full of everything he didn’t have time to say.
When he pulled back, his voice was rough. “I’ll come back to you.”
“I know,” she whispered.
He kissed her forehead, grabbed his cut, and headed for the door.
Just before he stepped out, he looked back at her, hair messy and wrapped in his blanket, standing in the middle of his room like she belonged there.
Emotion hit him so hard he had to grip the doorframe.
“Aves?”
“Yeah?”
His voice was barely a whisper. “Don’t disappear on me.”
She smiled softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He nodded once, sharp, determined, and left.
The door clicked shut.
And Avery realized something:
She wasn’t just in Rook’s room. She was in his life. And she wasn’t leaving.
Chapter 25
Rook
The clubhouse hallway felt too long.
Every step away from his room felt like peeling himself away from Avery’s warmth, her scent on his skin, the imprint of her body still lingering against his.
He’d barely closed the door behind him before the ache hit, sharp, unwelcome, and terrifying.
He’d never had something to lose before.
Now he did.
And the Reapers knew it.
He shoved the thought down and pushed into the main room. The brothers were already gathering, voices low, tension thick in the air. Stone stood near the Church door, arms crossed, jaw tight.
“Rook,” he said. “Inside.”
Rook nodded and stepped into the meeting room — Church — the inner sanctum, the war room, the place where decisions were made and blood was promised.
The heavy door shut behind them.
The room fell silent.
