Page 134 of Devoted

On the third, I arrived at the infirmary, set the plate down, and took the chair across from her at the small table. I didn’t say a word because this wasn’t a fight to be won. I simply put my chin in my hands and waited.

If I was honest, I would have preferred a fight. Some sass. A threat to stab me in the balls with that knife she always kept in her boot.

Anything to let me know my brave, determined wife hadn’t given up.

But there she sat, no expression on her face as she stared at the pile of pasta. Extra cheese because that was her favorite.

“Thank you, but I’m not hungry right now.” Polite, to the very end.

“I know, tesoro. You still have to eat.”

“Dante…”

“I’m not going anywhere until you do,” I said patiently. “It’s been three days. If you really want to help Luca, then you have to be strong. And you can’t be strong if you’re starving. One bite, Emberline, that’s all I’m asking.”

She closed her eyes. Went so still I counted her heartbeats by the pulse at her throat. Then she picked up the fork and took that single bite, with the stubborn compliance of someone performing a task they considered pointless.

I counted that bite as a victory and didn’t push any harder.

Next time… next time she’d take two, even if I had to sit beside her and talk her through every single one of them. This beautiful girl was mine to take care of, and right now, my wife was as fragile as I’d ever seen her.

“Thank you,” I said softly, dragging my fingers down the side of her face, watching her lean slightly into my touch before straightening her spine, as if she had a job to do, and nothing was going to stand in her way.

She refused to leave his side, sleeping in the chair beside Luca’s bed, and when Emilia came for the third morning in a row and left without offering anything new, Emberline’s hopeless stare sent fear shifting in my chest.

She was drifting out of my reach.

And I couldn’t fix this for her.

My wife blamed herself. Guilt was painted in the long, quiet pauses, the barely-eaten meals, and the way she kept one hand on Luca at all times, as if her brother might vanish. I didn’t have the heart to tell her he was already gone.

Gabriel made a gentle attempt at reason, telling her none of this was her fault, how Blackwood had designed a trap that was unavoidable, how the wound had been inflicted by a magic none of us would have recognized or known how to defend against.

She nodded along somberly, her attention glued to my brother’s face.

When Gabriel finished, she only shook her head. “But it is. I knew something was wrong.”

Gabriel paused. “Emberline, you have to stop…”

“Right after we got back, he kept rubbing his arm, and I thought…” She exhaled slowly, an empty hollowness beneath that breathy sound. “He wasn’t sleeping, and I told myself that was normal, given what he’d been through, and I just…” She stopped. “I failed him when he needed me the most. Seven days he was alone, Dante. Alone in that bedroom. Hiding. Suffering.”

I didn’t have the words to undo the past, so I put my hand over hers, and for once, she didn’t pull away.

Hours later, I went to stretch my legs, and when I returned…

I froze in the infirmary doorway for the two seconds it took my brain to confirm what I was seeing was real—the empty chair, the abandoned post—then I was moving.

I searched the villa, panic squeezing my sternum and settling in my throat until I couldn’t swallow. I was on my second pass when Gabriel intercepted me in the corridor with his phone in his hand. “Emberline is down on the beach. I thought…” He shook his head. “She doesn’t look like she wants company, but she could use her husband, I think.”

I raced down the path, across the soft sand, boots sinking in deep as I hurtled toward her, then came to a stop at the water’s edge, floundering on what to do next. What could I possibly say when words couldn’t change anything?

The sky was overcast, the perfect backdrop to the dark mood, and after a short hesitation, I loosely put my arms around her.

“I need to do something, Dante. I’m watching him disappear. And I can’t… I can’t sit around and let him slip away.” The wind blew off the water, threading strands of hair across her cheek. Her chin trembled. “I promised my mother and father I would take care of Luca, and I’ve done a piss-poor job.” She took a shaking breath, her body crumpling against me. “And then, when he was hurt and suffering, I left him alone. Told myself I was giving him his space. This is my fault, Dante. I could have saved him from this… and I didn’t.”

There it was.

I caught her as she collapsed completely, held her as if I would never let her go. All her strength, all her gritty stubbornness melted away as she sobbed, fingers twisted into my shirt, hanging on for dear life.