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dollgxtz · 15 days ago

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His Watchful Eye Pt.15

Word Count: 25.5k

Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, possession, forced pregnancy, unwanted pregnancy, tw if u have tokophobia, pet names like kitten, sweetie, honey, xavier appears, attempted murder, threats, suicide threats

Taglist: @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh @eliasxchocolate @nozomiaj @xmiisuki @sylus-kitten @its-regretti @ve1vet-cake @letgobro @starkeysslvt @yarafic @prince-nikko @connorsui @iluvmewwwww75 @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer @someone-somewheres-stuff @zaynesjasmine1 @honnylemontea @altariasu @sorryimakira @pearlymel @emidpsandia @angel-jupiter @hwangintakswifey @webmvie @housesortinghat @shoruio @gojos1ut @solomonlover @mysssticc @elegantnightblaze @mavphorias @babylavendersblog @burntoutfrogacademic @sinstae @certainduckanchor @ladyackermanisdead @sh4nn @milkandstarlight @lilyadora @nyumin @kiwookse @anisha24-blog1 @weepingluminarytale @riamir @definitionistato @xxhayashixx @adraxsteia @hargun-s @cayraeley @xxfaithlynxx @palomanh @spaceace111 @euridan

AN: This is on A03! Pls heed the tw!! This is an intense chapter and its okay to put it down and come back later. Take care! <3

Check my masterlist for the other parts!

“I did all of this. For you,” Xavier said, his voice breaking under the weight of his emotions. He stood frozen, his shoulders tense, his fists trembling at his sides as he stared at you. “You left with me. You wanted to kiss me too… in the cabin.” His tone grew quieter, almost disbelieving, as though he couldn’t reconcile what had just happened with what he thought you shared.

Xavier’s voice cracked again, barely above a whisper. “Tell me. Was it really a lie?”

Sylus wasn’t a stupid man. In fact, he prided himself on his ability to see through others, to read them like open books no matter how tightly they tried to shut their covers. To know even their deepest desires. And today, you had been an especially transparent read. The slight changes in your tone, the fleeting glances you cast around the mall, the way your fingers twitched nervously when you thought he wasn’t looking—it all painted a clear picture. You had been planning something from the moment you stepped foot outside the car.

Still, he had allowed it to play out. Part of him had hoped, against better judgment, that you might surprise him. That for once, you might set aside whatever fire still smoldered inside you and truly appreciate the lengths he had gone to for this day. The shopping trip, the presents, the brief taste of freedom—it had all been for you. A chance for you to feel a semblance of normalcy before the baby arrived, a chance to understand the life he was building for you and your daughter.

But you were predictable, as always. He had given you an inch, and you had taken a damn mile.

As he stood by the railing outside the store, watching from a distance, he felt no anger. At least, not the fiery kind that consumed lesser men. No, Sylus’s anger was a cold thing, methodical and patient. He had learned long ago that rage blinded the mind, and he preferred to see things with perfect clarity. And now, as his sharp crimson eyes followed you across the store, clarity was all he felt.

There you were, running straight into the arms of him. The ash-blond man with those annoyingly sincere blue eyes. Xavier.

Sylus watched as the two of you embraced, your body trembling as you clung to him like a lifeline. Xavier’s arms wrapped around you with a possessiveness that made Sylus’s jaw tighten. It wasn’t just the embrace that irked him—it was the look in Xavier’s eyes. The way they softened as he gazed down at you, as though he had every right to hold you like that. As though Sylus hadn’t already claimed you.

The sight should have infuriated him. And yet, Sylus remained calm. He couldn’t bring himself to feel the boiling rage that others might have in his place. No, this wasn’t anger—it was confirmation. Proof that Xavier had to be dealt with, once and for all.

The faintest smirk tugged at Sylus’s lips as he watched Xavier grab your hand, his movements hurried and frantic as he led you out of the store. Sylus knew exactly where the two of you were headed. The parking lot. Of course. It was laughable, really—this desperate attempt to run, as if Sylus didn’t already have his web spun tightly around you in more ways than one.

How quaint.

Sylus turned, his steps measured and deliberate as he began walking toward the mall’s main entrance. He reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone, dialing without hesitation. The line clicked almost immediately.

“Have the car ready,” Sylus said, his voice calm and smooth, though there was an unmistakable edge to it. “We’ll be leaving soon.”

“Yes, sir,” came the twins’ simultaneous reply before the line went dead.

Sliding the phone back into his pocket, Sylus continued toward the glass doors, the faint hum of mall activity buzzing around him. He passed by the bustling food court, his mind turning over possibilities with calculated precision. What would Xavier’s next move be? Would he drive you straight out of the city? Find a safe house? Attempt to flee beyond his reach?

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. You could run as far as you'd like, he would find you. He had proven that before, and he would prove it again.

His thoughts drifted to you, to the desperation in your eyes as you’d clung to Xavier. Did you think this was freedom? Did you truly believe that running to another man’s arms would save you? Sylus’s chest tightened as he imagined the way you must have felt—hopeful, relieved, like a bird released from a cage. But you hadn’t escaped anything. Not really.

“My little dove,” he murmured to himself, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Fly as far as you like. Your cage will always be just behind you.”

The glass doors of the mall slid open as Sylus stepped outside, the cool evening air brushing against his skin. He paused for a moment, glancing around with a faint smirk. His car was already idling by the curb, the twins standing attentively by the doors, their bodies relaxed but ready. He made his way toward them with the same unshakable composure he always carried, his mind already working through the steps ahead.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Sylus climbed into the car, leaning back against the seat as he stared out the window. His fingers tapped lightly against his knee, his eyes glinting in the bright light. The game had shifted, and the hunt was on. But he wasn’t worried.

Because he always won.

You flew into Xavier’s arms, clinging to him as though letting go would rip him away forever. Your body trembled uncontrollably, tears streaming down your cheeks in hot, unrelenting waves. Every ounce of strength you’d used to hold yourself together for months crumbled in an instant, leaving nothing but raw emotion in its place. His arms wrapped around you tightly, grounding you in a way you hadn’t felt in what seemed like an eternity. His warmth, his scent—everything about him screamed safety, familiarity, home.

It was real. This had to be real.

Your shoulders shook as you sobbed into his chest, your fists gripping his shirt with a desperation that felt primal. “This…isn’t a dream, right?” you whispered, your voice broken, barely audible between your gasping sobs. “You’re real?”

Xavier’s arms tightened around you, his voice low and steady, a soft balm against your chaos. “I promise I’m real, my love,” he murmured, his breath brushing against your hair. “I’m here now. I’ve got you.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and the tenderness of it made your heart clench painfully.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your face pressed against the fabric of his shirt. You could feel the faint thrum of his heartbeat against your cheek, steady and reassuring, a rhythm you had yearned for but feared you might never hear again. For months, you’d clung to the fragile hope that you’d find him, but now that he was here, holding you, it felt like an impossible dream.

But the dream crashed into reality when you felt a sharp kick from your belly. You froze for a moment, the sensation pulling you back to the present. Your daughter moved again, a firm reminder of her presence. You shifted slightly, and Xavier stiffened, his body instinctively adjusting as if to shield you. His gaze dropped, and you knew he felt it too—the undeniable proof of your pregnancy.

His hands loosened slightly, giving you space as he stepped back just enough to look down at you. His blue eyes widened as they flickered to the swell of your stomach, his expression shifting from relief to surprise, then to something gentler—something you couldn’t quite read.

The shame hit you like a tidal wave. Heat rushed to your face as your tears faltered, and you quickly averted your gaze, unable to bear the silent question lingering between you. You opened your mouth, scrambling for words, for a way to explain what couldn’t be explained. “This…this isn’t what it looks like,” you stammered, your voice trembling. “I didn’t willingly—”

“Shh.” Xavier’s voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, calm and firm yet full of compassion. His hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that still clung to your skin. “You don’t have to explain,” he said, his gaze locking with yours. “I know. I know.”

His words sent a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you, but there was no time to dwell on it. His grip on your hand tightened, and the softness in his expression hardened into sharp focus. His eyes darted toward the entrance of the store, scanning the area with practiced precision.

“We can’t talk here,” he said quietly, urgency lacing his words. “There’s no time. He’s not dumb. He’s probably already realized you’re not coming back.”

Your stomach churned at his words. He was right. Sylus was many things, but careless wasn’t one of them. If he hadn’t already figured out what was happening, it wouldn’t be long before he did. You could practically feel the weight of his presence, the intensity of his gaze, even though he wasn’t anywhere in sight.

Xavier’s hand on yours kept you steady as he began guiding you out of the store. His movements were purposeful, each step measured but swift. Your heart pounded in your chest, so loud you could barely hear the ambient noise of the mall around you—the faint murmur of shoppers, the echo of footsteps on polished floors, the distant hum of escalators.

Your eyes darted around nervously, scanning for any sign of Sylus. Every passing shadow, every sudden movement made your pulse spike. The fear that had been simmering in the back of your mind now roared to life, a suffocating weight pressing down on you.

“Keep moving,” Xavier whispered, his voice barely audible but commanding. He cast another glance over his shoulder, his body tense, ready for anything. “We’re almost there.”

The two of you weaved through the crowd, the press of bodies both a comfort and a curse. On one hand, they shielded you, made it harder for anyone to track you. But on the other, every stranger’s face felt like a threat, every curious glance like a dagger aimed at your heart.

As you approached the mall’s glass doors, the cool evening air beyond them became a beacon, a promise of freedom. You focused on that sliver of light, letting it guide you, letting it fuel the hope that was slowly beginning to grow.

But your legs felt heavy, like they might give out at any moment. The adrenaline that had carried you this far was starting to falter, leaving behind the exhaustion of months spent holding everything together. Your breaths came in shallow gasps, but you forced yourself to keep moving.

Finally, the two of you reached the doors, and Xavier pushed them open with one hand, keeping the other firmly on yours. The cool air hit your face, a sharp contrast to the stifling tension inside. For the first time in what felt like forever, you took a deep, steadying breath.

But it wasn’t over yet. You weren’t free yet.

“Stay close,” Xavier said, his tone protective as he led you toward the parking lot. His grip on your hand was firm but gentle, a tether that kept you grounded as the world spun around you.

You nodded, unable to form words as your mind raced with a hundred possibilities. What if Sylus was already out here? What if he was watching, waiting? You couldn’t afford to think about it. Not now. Not when freedom was so close you could almost taste it.

The two of you moved quickly, Xavier’s steps confident and unrelenting as he navigated through the rows of parked cars. You couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder, half expecting to see Sylus’s crimson eyes cutting through the air. But the parking lot was quiet, the only sounds the distant hum of traffic and the occasional chirp of car alarms.

As Xavier reached into his pocket for his keys, you couldn’t stop the question that slipped from your lips. “What now?” you asked, your voice trembling.

Xavier turned to you, his expression both determined and gentle. “Now, we get you out of here. Both of you.” His hand rested briefly but hesitantly on your belly, his touch reassuring. “And then we figure out where to keep you so your safe. For good this time.”

His words sent a shiver through you—not of fear, but of hope. For the first time in months, you felt like escape wasn’t just a dream. It was a possibility.

As Xavier opened the car door and helped you inside, you cast one last glance at the mall behind you. The faint flicker of lights, the bustling crowds, the life you were leaving behind.

And somewhere in the shadows, you knew Sylus was watching. Waiting.

But for now, you were free.

The hum of the car engine filled the heavy silence, a low and constant reminder of the miles slipping by. Outside the windows, the scenery blurred into a muted palette of greens and grays, the fading light of morning casting long shadows across the road. You sat stiffly in the passenger seat, your hands clasped tightly in your lap, your mind racing with thoughts that felt too big to untangle.

Xavier hadn’t said much since you climbed into the car. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles pale against the leather. His jaw was clenched, his eyes focused on the road ahead as if the act of driving required every ounce of his attention. The silence between you was suffocating, thick with unspoken words and the weight of everything you’d both endured.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Why didn’t you come for me sooner?” you asked, your voice quiet but sharp, cutting through the stillness like a blade. You didn’t mean for it to sound accusatory, but the question had been burning in your mind ever since he had come for you.

Xavier flinched slightly at the words, his shoulders tensing as he exhaled through his nose. For a long moment, he didn’t respond, and you thought he might brush the question off entirely. But then, he spoke, his voice low and steady, tinged with something you couldn’t quite place—regret? Shame?

“He blackmailed me.”

You blinked, startled by the admission. “What?”

Xavier’s grip on the wheel tightened further, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he continued. “Sylus. He blackmailed me. He made it impossible for me to act without risking everything.”

Your breath caught, confusion and disbelief swirling in your chest. “What do you mean? Blackmailed you how?”

Xavier hesitated, his jaw working as if he were weighing the words before saying them aloud. “It started after you disappeared,” he began, his voice quieter now, almost reluctant. “I was looking for you. I left no stone unturned, no lead unexplored. I didn’t care what it took—I was going to find you. But Sylus…” He shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “He made sure I couldn’t.”

The weight of his words sank into your chest, leaving you breathless. “What did he do?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

Xavier finally glanced at you, his blue eyes dark with a mix of anger and guilt. “He threatened to hurt you if I kept looking. To hurt people who had nothing to do with this too."

Your stomach twisted as the pieces began to fall into place. You’d known Sylus was ruthless, manipulative, but hearing it from Xavier made it all feel more real. “He…he threatened to hurt me?” you whispered, horrified. You almost couldn't believe it.

Xavier nodded stiffly, his hands flexing on the steering wheel. "He had his eyes everywhere, his reach in places I didn’t even know existed. He made it clear that finding you would come at a cost—and not just to me.”

A wave of guilt and sorrow crashed over you, rendering you speechless. You turned away, staring out the window as you tried to process what he was saying. The silence returned, heavier now, laden with the weight of his confession and the reality of what Sylus had done to both of you.

You felt like you should say something, offer some kind of comfort, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you sat there, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts that refused to settle.

“I didn’t stop looking for you,” Xavier said after a long moment, his voice breaking the silence again. There was a quiet desperation in his tone now, a need for you to understand. “I couldn’t. But I had to be careful, deliberate. Every step I took felt like walking a tightrope, and I knew one wrong move could…” He trailed off, his throat working as he swallowed hard. “I hated it. Every second of it.”

You nodded slowly, though your gaze remained fixed on the passing trees. “I didn’t know,” you murmured, your voice shaking. “I didn’t realize he…” The words failed you, leaving you to sink further into the silence.

For the next few minutes of the drive, neither of you spoke. The only sounds were the low hum of the engine and the faint rhythm of your breathing. But the tension in the car was no longer suffocating—it was raw and open, a quiet acknowledgment of everything that had been stolen from both of you.

"You know…he blackmailed me too kinda," you said softly, breaking the silence that hung heavy in the car. Your voice was tentative, almost drowned out by the faint hum of the engine. You kept your gaze on the road ahead, unable to meet Xavier’s eyes as the weight of your words settled in the confined space.

Xavier glanced at you, his blue eyes earnest and filled with quiet concern. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not ready,” he said gently. His voice was steady, warm—a stark contrast to the turmoil raging in your chest.

You shook your head slowly, your hands trembling as they rested on your belly. “No,” you whispered. “It’s fine. I want you to know. You deserve to know.”

He didn’t push, didn’t press for details. Instead, he waited, his silence giving you the space to gather your thoughts. The words felt heavy, lodged in your throat like stones, but you forced them out anyway, each one cutting into the fragile peace that had momentarily settled between you.

“He said if I ever spoke your name…he’d kill you,” you said, your voice cracking on the last word. Your fingers tightened around the fabric of your dress as you glanced down at your stomach, your shame and fear twisting into an unbearable knot. “He also said if I didn’t feed the baby…” You swallowed hard, the memory still as sharp and raw as the day Sylus had first uttered the threat. “He’d kill you then, too.”

The confession hung in the air like a dark cloud, oppressive and suffocating. The only sounds were the faint rumble of the car and your own unsteady breathing. Your heart raced as you waited for Xavier to respond, your mind spiraling into a hundred different worst-case scenarios. What if he was angry? Hurt? Or worse, what if he couldn’t look at you the same way after hearing it all?

Xavier didn’t say anything right away, but the tension in his jaw told you he was processing it. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white, but his face remained calm. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and measured. “I understand,” he said, his tone careful. He paused, glancing at you again before asking hesitantly, “Are you…are you keeping it?”

The question hit you like a slap, not because it was inappropriate, but because of how much weight it carried. You knew what he meant, but even so, the word “it” stung. Xavier must have realized immediately, because he winced and quickly corrected himself. “Ah, sorry. Not ‘it.’ I don’t know the gender.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his awkwardness, and for the first time in what felt like hours, a small laugh escaped your lips. It was faint and fleeting, but it was there—a fragile spark in the sea of tension.

“The baby is a girl,” you said, your voice softening. “It’s okay.”

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His gaze shifted back to the road, his jaw tightening again as if bracing himself for whatever came next.

“And…I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice wavering. “Just a day ago, I was preparing to accept my new life as a mom. I told myself I had to. That I didn’t have a choice.” You paused, taking a shaky breath as your hand moved to your belly, tracing slow circles over the fabric. “And now…now my brain is all over the place. I just want her to be safe. To grow up happy.”

Silence enveloped the car again, heavy and suffocating. You stared out the window, the glow of sun illuminating the streets. Your daughter kicked again, and you pressed your palm against your stomach, trying to reassure her even as your own fears consumed you.

When Xavier didn’t respond, your chest tightened with a fresh wave of anxiety. Was he regretting this already? Was this too much for him? The thought was like a dagger, sharp and cold, and before you could stop yourself, the words spilled out.

“I understand if this is a lot,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You turned your head slightly, your eyes searching his face for any sign of his thoughts. “If you don’t want me anymore…”

The moment the words left your lips, Xavier’s head snapped toward you, his blue eyes blazing with intensity. His expression was equal parts shock and disbelief, and for a terrifying second, you thought you’d made a mistake.

“Don’t,” he said sharply, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “Don’t say that. Don’t even think that.”

You flinched at the firmness in his tone, but before you could retreat into yourself, his hand left the wheel and reached for yours. His palm was warm, his grip steady as his fingers laced through yours. The gesture was grounding, a lifeline in the sea of doubt.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice softening but losing none of its conviction. “This is a lot. I won’t lie to you about that. But it’s not too much. Not for me.”

Your breath caught as he continued, his blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. “Do you really think I’d give up now?” he asked, his voice almost breaking. “After everything? After months of looking for you, of fighting to get to this moment?”

Tears welled in your eyes, spilling over as his words wrapped around your heart like a protective shield. You tried to speak, but the lump in your throat made it impossible. Instead, you nodded, the motion small and uncertain.

“I don’t care about the circumstances,” Xavier said, his voice steady. “You’re still the woman I love. And that little girl you’re carrying?” His gaze flickered briefly to your belly before returning to your face. “She’s part of you. That’s all I need to know.”

The dam inside you broke, and the tears came freely now, your shoulders shaking as the weight of everything you’d been holding finally crashed down. Xavier didn’t flinch, didn’t let go. If anything, his grip on your hand tightened, his thumb brushing small, soothing circles over your knuckles.

“You don’t have to figure this all out today,” he said softly. “We’ll take it one step at a time. Together.”

His words hit you with the force of a tidal wave, overwhelming and comforting all at once. For the first time in months, the crushing weight on your chest eased just enough for you to take a full breath. You nodded again, your hand squeezing his as you leaned back against the seat.

For now, you didn’t need all the answers. For now, it was enough to know that you weren’t alone.

You didn’t remember falling asleep. The last thing you recalled was the rhythmic hum of the car’s engine, a soothing lullaby against the backdrop of a long and emotional day. Now, you woke to the soft crunch of gravel beneath tires, and the faint thud of a door shutting pulled you fully back to consciousness. Blinking groggily, you rubbed your eyes, the world outside the window coming into focus—or not. Darkness enveloped everything, the trees standing like silent sentinels against the faint glow of the moon.

The realization hit you quickly: this wasn’t home. Your heart skipped a beat as unease crept in, sharp and unwelcome. Before you could dwell on it, the passenger door opened, and cool night air rushed in. Xavier leaned into view, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the car’s overhead light. His expression was calm, reassuring, but you couldn’t ignore the flutter of anxiety in your chest.

“Where are we?” you asked, your voice thick with sleep. Your fingers curled around the seatbelt instinctively, holding you in place.

Xavier offered his hand, waiting patiently for you to take it. “Someplace safe,” he said simply. When you didn’t immediately move, he crouched slightly, his eyes meeting yours. “I know this is sudden, but I need you to trust me. It’s too dangerous to go back to the apartment right now. He knows where we live.”

The mention of Sylus sent a shiver down your spine. Logic told you Xavier was right, but fear still gnawed at the edges of your thoughts. Hesitantly, you unbuckled your seatbelt and allowed him to help you out of the car. The ground was uneven beneath your feet, the faint crunch of dirt and leaves the only sound as you stood there, blinking into the darkness.

“I thought we’d go back to your place,” you murmured, your voice wavering. Your gaze flickered around nervously, trying to take in your surroundings, but the dense forest offered no clues. “Why…why here?”

Xavier’s hand tightened around yours, his warmth grounding you. “I know it’s a lot,” he admitted, his tone gentle. “But I needed to bring you somewhere Sylus wouldn’t think to look. This cabin—it��s not much, but it’s off the radar. Trust me, it’s safer.”

Despite his reassurances, unease still prickled at the edges of your mind. You weren’t sure if it was the unfamiliar surroundings, the memories of Sylus’s threats, or the sheer exhaustion weighing on your body, but something about the situation left you unsettled. Still, you nodded, forcing yourself to take a deep breath. Xavier wouldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t put you in danger.

“Come on,” he said softly, tugging your hand. “It’s not far.”

The walk to the cabin was short, but every step felt like a battle. Your feet ached fiercely, the swelling from the pregnancy making each movement a painful reminder of your body’s limits. By the time the faint outline of the cabin came into view, a soft grunt of pain escaped your lips, and you winced, trying to mask it. Xavier stopped abruptly, turning to face you.

“You okay?” he asked, his brows knitting together in concern. His gaze dropped to your feet, his expression softening when he noticed your discomfort.

“It’s just a pregnancy thing,” you muttered, embarrassed. “My feet… they’re swollen. And they hurt.”

Xavier frowned, his concern deepening. “We should’ve stopped sooner. I’ll see if I have anything at the cabin to help with that.” His voice carried a mix of determination and regret, as if he felt guilty for not noticing sooner.

You nodded, grateful for his thoughtfulness but unable to shake the wave of shame that washed over you. He was doing so much already—too much. This wasn’t his responsibility, no matter how much he claimed to care. As he guided you the last few steps to the cabin, you couldn’t help but wonder if he really meant what he’d said earlier about the baby. Did he truly believe what he’d said, or had it been an attempt to comfort you in the moment?

The cabin was modest, its wooden beams gleaming faintly in the moonlight. When Xavier pushed open the door, the soft golden glow of the interior lights spilled out, revealing a small but cozy space. There was no clutter, no decorations—just a bed, a wood-burning stove, and a small kitchen tucked into one corner. It was practical, not personal, and the emptiness made your chest tighten.

“Sit down,” Xavier said, his tone gentle but firm as he guided you to the bed. “I’ll get some water and find something for your feet.”

You sank into the mattress, relief washing over you as the pressure on your swollen feet eased. As Xavier moved around the cabin, his actions quick and purposeful, you watched him, your emotions a tangled mess of gratitude and guilt. He shouldn’t have to take care of you like this. He had no obligation—not to you, and certainly not to the baby.

When he returned, he knelt in front of you, setting down a bowl of warm water and a clean towel. “It’s not much,” he said, his voice apologetic, “but it should help.”

You stared at the bowl for a moment, your throat tightening. His kindness was overwhelming, and before you could stop yourself, the question you’d been holding back tumbled out.

“Do you really mean it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Xavier paused, his hands stilling over the bowl. He looked up at you, his blue eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. “Mean what?” he asked softly, his tone careful.

“What you said earlier. About the baby,” you clarified, your voice trembling. “That it doesn’t matter to you…that she’s part of me, and that’s all you need.”

His expression softened, and he reached out, taking your hand in his. “I meant it,” he said, his voice steady. “That doesn’t mean this isn’t a lot to take in. It is. And I won’t pretend otherwise.” He paused, his gaze searching yours. “But none of that changes how I feel about you. Or how much I want to be here for you—whatever you decide.”

Tears welled in your eyes as his words sank in, wrapping around your heart like a warm embrace. “Whatever I decide?” you echoed, your voice breaking.

Xavier nodded, his thumb brushing gentle circles over your knuckles. “If you want to keep her, I’ll be here for you both. If you decide adoption is the right choice, I’ll support you. This is your decision. Your future. But whatever you choose, I’m not going anywhere.”

The tears came freely again as the weight of his words settled over you. He didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. If anything, his grip on your hand tightened, his presence grounding you in a way nothing else could. He truly was the man you loved and continued to be despite everything.

Your stomach rumbled loudly, the sound startling in the quiet cabin. It was as if your body had finally caught up with everything else, demanding attention you didn’t feel ready to give. You let out a nervous laugh, instinctively placing a hand over your belly as another tiny kick pressed against your palm. Your daughter was restless, rolling and kicking as if in protest.

“I guess we’re both starving,” you said softly, your voice carrying an edge of self-consciousness.

Xavier glanced towards the small kitchen area, his face softening. “There’s some canned food in the cupboard,” he said, already moving and pulling open one of the creaky wooden doors. “I’ll cook something for you. It won’t be fancy, but it’ll do.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, though the words felt small in comparison to what he was doing for you. As you watched him move around the kitchen, his slightly broad shoulders slightly hunched in concentration, guilt gnawed at the edges of your thoughts. He was doing so much for you—for both of you. And yet, no matter how much he reassured you, that persistent question lingered: how long could this last? How long until it became too much for him?

You shifted on the bed, your hand still resting on your belly as your daughter continued her acrobatics. Your thoughts spiraled, each one more overwhelming than the last. What were you going to do? The question haunted you, clawing at the edges of your mind. Once Sylus was no longer a threat, you’d still have to make a decision about the baby.

Would it be better to give her up? The thought made your chest tighten painfully, but it felt like the only logical choice. If you kept her, Sylus would find her. He always found a way. But giving her up didn’t guarantee safety either. What if she ended up closer to his reach, easier for him to manipulate and control? Your head swam with possibilities, each one more suffocating than the last. You closed your eyes, willing the torrent of thoughts to stop, but it was like trying to hold back a flood.

“Xavier…” you began hesitantly, your voice barely audible over the faint sizzle of something on the stove. He turned slightly, his head tilting to show he was listening, but his hands didn’t stop moving as he stirred a pot. “Shouldn’t we go to Captain Jenna? The police? I mean…I’m technically still missing, aren’t I?”

Xavier stilled for a moment, the rhythm of his stirring coming to an abrupt halt. The tension in his shoulders was subtle, but it was enough to make your stomach churn with unease. Slowly, he resumed stirring, his back still to you. “You’re not legally missing,” he said finally, his voice careful. “Sylus made sure of that.”

Your breath hitched, your heart sinking. “What do you mean?” you asked, though you weren’t sure you wanted to hear the answer.

Xavier turned down the heat on the stove, his movements deliberate as he picked up a plate and began serving the food. “He made me spin a story,” Xavier explained, his tone clipped. “According to me, you announced that you were leaving the country. Made it seem like a planned move.”

The words hit you like a physical blow, leaving you momentarily breathless. Of course Sylus had thought of everything. He always did. Every possible angle, every potential loose end—he’d tied them all up neatly in a web of lies. “What?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “But…that doesn’t mean we can’t tell someone what really happened, right?”

Xavier didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he poured the steaming vegetables from the pot onto the plate, the vibrant mix of greens, oranges, and yellows standing out against the plain white dish. He carried it over to the small coffee table in front of you, setting it down gently. The aroma of cooked pork and seasoned vegetables filled the air, but you barely noticed. Your eyes were fixed on him, searching for some kind of reassurance.

“It’s best not to get anyone else involved,” he said finally, sitting down across from you. His voice was measured, careful, but there was an underlying tension that made your stomach twist. “Sylus is dangerous. The people you’re thinking of going to—Captain Jenna, the police—they can’t protect you from someone like him.”

“But—” you began, desperation creeping into your voice.

“Besides,” he cut in gently but firmly, his gaze meeting yours, “you’re pregnant. If we try to explain this now, all it’s going to look like is you ran off for a fling. That’s how Sylus has framed it, and it’s the story people will believe.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a heavy blanket, suffocating and inescapable. You wanted to argue, to shout that it wasn’t fair, but the truth of what he was saying kept your protests lodged in your throat. Sylus’s lies were insidious, and the world was all too quick to believe the worst about people. Even if you tried to explain, who would believe you?

Xavier leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched you. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear,” he said softly. “And I know it’s not fair. But the most important thing right now is keeping you and the baby safe. That’s all that matters. Once I can secure a better place for you, I'll move you both out from this cabin.”

You swallowed hard, your throat tightening as tears threatened to spill. “I don’t know what to do,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I keep thinking about the baby… about what’s best for her. I don’t even know if keeping her is the right choice. But giving her up…what if that puts her in even more danger?”

Xavier’s gaze softened, and he reached out, his hand covering yours. His touch was warm, grounding, but it didn’t erase the storm raging inside you. “I don’t have all the answers,” he said honestly. “This is your decision. And it’s not an easy one. But whatever you choose—whether you keep her or give her up—I’ll be here to help you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“How can you say that?” you whispered, your voice breaking. “She’s not even yours.”

Xavier didn’t flinch. His grip on your hand tightened slightly, his thumb brushing small, soothing circles over your knuckles. “I know,” he said simply, his voice steady. “But regardless, I love you. If you keep her, I want to be involved with everything to do with you."

The sincerity in his voice left you breathless, your chest aching with a mixture of gratitude and overwhelming emotion. The enormity of everything still loomed over you, but Xavier’s words felt like a lifeline, anchoring you to something solid amidst the chaos.

You nodded slowly, wiping at your eyes as you reached for the fork. The first bite of food was warm and comforting, easing some of the tension in your chest. It was nothing compared to the lavish meals Sylus would feed you, but for the first time in a long time the food was truly delicious. Xavier watched you silently, his presence steady and unyielding. The crushing weight of fear and uncertainty seemed to lift��if only just enough to breathe.

Tomorrow would bring more questions, more decisions. But for tonight, Xavier’s quiet support was enough to keep the darkness at bay.

The hours stretched on, the crackle of the wood-burning stove providing a soothing backdrop as you and Xavier talked. At first, it was about the kidnapping, the things you had endured, and the horrifying grip Sylus had over your life. Xavier was angered to learn Sylus had physically cut out your birth control himself. And you were saddened to learn you no longer had an apartment. But as the tension began to ease, the conversation shifted. Xavier told you about what he’d gone through to find you, the lengths he’d gone to prepare for what felt like an impossible rescue. Every word felt surreal.

“So… you’re part Polar Wyrm now?” you asked, your tone incredulous.

Xavier nodded, leaning back a bit, his broad shoulders catching the warm glow of the stove’s firelight. His lips quirked into a half-smile, though there was no humor in it. “Yeah. It’s…complicated. I didn’t have a choice, not if I wanted to be strong enough to face him again. I thought—” He paused, his blue eyes flickering with something unspoken. “I thought it would give me a better chance to bring you back.”

You stared at him, trying to process the enormity of what he had done. Polar Wyrms were no ordinary Wanderers—powerful, ancient, and dangerous. To think Xavier had willingly taken on that kind of burden for you made your chest ache with a mix of gratitude and guilt.

“I didn’t ask you to do that…” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

His eyes softened as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You didn’t have to,” he said quietly. “I would’ve done anything to find you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you looked away, unable to hold his gaze. “I’m sorry,” you said for what felt like the hundredth time that night. The words tumbled out of you in a rush, fueled by the weight of everything you’d been carrying. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that. I’m sorry I wasn’t stronger—”

“Stop.” His voice was gentle but firm, cutting through your apologies. He reached out and placed a hand over yours, his touch warm and grounding. “You have nothing to be sorry for. None of this was your fault.”

You nodded hesitantly, though the guilt still lingered, a heavy presence in your chest. It wasn’t something that would go away overnight.

Eventually, the conversation turned lighter. For the first time in what felt like forever, you caught glimpses of the man you missed and dreamed of, the one who could make you laugh, who made the world feel less daunting. When he brought up baby names, it caught you off guard.

“I always thought that if I had a daughter, I’d name her Evia,” he said, his voice thoughtful. He leaned back, his gaze distant as if imagining the life he once thought he might have. “It means ‘life’ or ‘to live’ in Hebrew.”

You were lying on the bed by then, exhaustion tugging at your body despite the lively energy of your daughter, who seemed intent on keeping you awake with her constant movements. Your fingers traced idle patterns over your belly as you considered the name.

“Evia,” you repeated, the sound delicate and full of promise. “It’s such a pretty name.”

The idea stirred something inside you—a flicker of hope, fragile but persistent. Could this be a fresh start? If you named her something Xavier had chosen instead of something Sylus would have controlled, it might mark the beginning of a new chapter. A life where you weren’t constantly looking over your shoulder, where your daughter could grow up without fear.

Xavier must have sensed the shift in your mood because he gave you a small smile, the kind that lit up his face and reminded you of how much you had missed him. “Of course, if you wanted something different, it’s your choice,” he added quickly, his tone light but sincere.

Your heart fluttered at his words, at the way he seemed to effortlessly put you first, even now. How you’d missed that smile. His voice. His eyes. This wasn’t just love—it was something deeper. Something that had endured pain, separation, and fear, only to emerge stronger.

“Xavier…” you whispered, his name barely more than a breath as it passed your lips. It felt strange to say it now, after all this time, after everything that had happened. Yet it grounded you, tethering you to the moment as you turned toward him on the bed.

He was kneeling beside you, his arms resting on the edge of the mattress. The warm light of the fire danced across his face, casting shadows that made his features seem sharper, more defined. But his eyes…they were soft, steady, filled with something that made your chest tighten and your pulse quicken.

He tilted his head slightly, a quiet hum of acknowledgment escaping his throat. His blue eyes flickered down to your lips, lingering there for a heartbeat, before lifting back to meet your gaze. The unspoken question in his expression sent a shiver through you.

Your heart pounded, the sound of it filling your ears as if it were echoing in the quiet cabin. The warmth of his breath brushed against your skin, subtle but enough to make you hyperaware of just how close he was. You could see the faint line of eyebags on his face, the way his lips parted slightly as though he wanted to speak but didn’t.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The space between you felt electric, charged with an intensity that made the air in the room seem heavier. Your stomach fluttered—not with the restless movements of your daughter, but with something else. Something thrilling and terrifying all at once.

Slowly, as if drawn by an invisible force, you leaned forward. The fabric of the bed shifted beneath you, and your hand pressed against the mattress for balance as you closed the distance between you. Xavier mirrored your movement, his posture rigid at first but softening as he leaned closer. His eyes never left yours, flickering with emotions you couldn’t quite name but felt in your core.

You could feel the heat radiating from him now, could see the way his chest rose and fell with slightly uneven breaths. The faint scent of him—something clean, with a hint of the woods—filled your senses, making your head spin. Your lips were so close you could almost feel them brush against his, the space between you impossibly narrow.

His hand moved, hesitating for a moment before coming to rest lightly against your jaw. His touch was warm, his thumb barely grazing your skin as though he were afraid you might pull away. The gentle pressure made your breath catch, your eyes fluttering shut as the anticipation built to a dizzying crescendo.

And then the doubt crept in.

Your eyes snapped open, and you pulled back slightly, your chest tightening with the weight of your insecurities. How could you let yourself get lost in this moment when everything about you had changed? You were pregnant. Your body wasn’t the same, marked and reshaped by the life growing inside you and the things you had been through. How could he still want you like this?

“Never mind,” you muttered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. You started to lean back, but Xavier’s hand moved quickly, capturing your wrist with a firm yet gentle grip.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice low, almost pleading. His thumb brushed over the delicate skin of your wrist as he held you in place, his touch both grounding and electrifying.

His free hand lifted to your cheek, tilting your face back toward him. The way he looked at you made your heart skip—an unguarded, almost raw expression of longing and determination. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. The words trembled with vulnerability, as though he wasn’t certain you’d say yes.

Your lips parted in surprise, your pulse racing as you searched his face for any hint of doubt. There was none. His eyes were locked on yours, unwavering, filled with a quiet intensity that made it impossible to look away.

“You still...want to do that?” you asked, your voice trembling. “Even if I’m like this?”

His brows furrowed slightly, as though he couldn’t understand why you would even question it. “Always,” he said simply, his voice steady and sure.

The sincerity in his tone sent a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you. Your chest ached, your breath hitching as you realized just how much you had missed him—his touch, his presence, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world.

Slowly, you leaned in again, your movements tentative at first but growing bolder as you closed the distance between you. Xavier met you halfway, his hand still cradling your face as his thumb traced a slow, soothing circle against your cheek.

Your eyes fluttered shut again, and you tilted your head slightly, your lips just a breath away from his. You could feel the faintest brush of his mouth against yours, featherlight and tantalizing, and your heart leapt in anticipation.

And then, a sharp, piercing “CAW!” shattered the moment.

Your eyes flew open, your head snapping toward the window. Outside, silhouetted against the moonlight, was the unmistakable shape of a crow. Its black feathers gleamed in the dim light, and it perched on a gnarled branch just outside the cabin.

“No…” you breathed, the sound barely audible as a chill ran down your spine. The crow let out another sharp cry, its beady eyes fixed on the cabin, unblinking.

“Mephisto...” you said, the name tumbling from your lips in disbelief as you sat up abruptly, your heart racing.

Xavier frowned, his hand still on your wrist as he followed your gaze to the window. “Who’s Mephisto?” he asked, his voice low and cautious.

Your mind raced, a storm of thoughts and memories flooding in all at once. Mephisto wasn’t just a crow. He was Sylus’s crow. A creature bound to him in ways you still couldn’t fully understand, serving as his eyes, his ears, his shadow.

If Mephisto was here, it could only mean one thing.

“We have to go,” you said urgently, your voice trembling. “Now.”

Xavier didn’t question you. His expression hardened, his movements quick and efficient as he rose to his feet and grabbed the car keys. The easy, tender atmosphere of moments ago was gone, replaced by a tension so thick it was suffocating. You couldn't go back. You had just gotten a small taste of true freedom again and he was coming to rip it all away.

As you scrambled to your feet, your hand instinctively went to your belly, your daughter’s frantic movements mirroring the fear coursing through you. You cast one last glance at the window, but the branch was empty now.

Mephisto was gone.

The urgency was palpable as you and Xavier bolted toward the car, your heart hammering against your ribs. The cabin, once a sanctuary, now felt like a trap. Every sound—the snap of a twig, the rustling of leaves—set your nerves on edge, each one magnified by the oppressive darkness surrounding you.

“Come on,” Xavier urged, his voice low but firm as his hand closed around yours, pulling you along the uneven path.

Your swollen belly made it hard to keep up, each step sending a jolt of discomfort through your body. The terrain seemed to conspire against you—rocks and roots threatened to trip you, the soft soil beneath your feet feeling like it was pulling you down. Your breaths came in shallow pants, and your free hand pressed against your abdomen as though to steady the restless movements of your daughter within.

“I…I can’t run like this,” you panted, your voice shaky with fear and exertion.

Xavier slowed immediately, his grip on your hand tightening as he wrapped his other arm around your back to steady you. “I’ve got you,” he said, his voice softening despite the tension etched across his face. He guided you forward, his movements careful yet urgent. “We’re almost there.”

The car came into view, its dark shape barely discernible against the shadows of the forest. Relief surged through you, momentarily easing the tightness in your chest. The two of you reached the vehicle, and Xavier opened the passenger door in one swift motion, helping you inside.

“Lock it,” he said firmly, his blue eyes meeting yours through the glass before he hurried to the driver’s side.

With shaky hands, you reached for the lock, the click of it sliding into place offering a fleeting sense of security. The cabin lights dimmed as Xavier climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car. The engine roared to life, and for a moment, your pounding heart began to slow.

But the moment shattered as the car lurched forward an inch before stopping abruptly, the tires spinning uselessly against the ground. The engine growled in protest, but the vehicle refused to budge.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, your voice trembling as dread crept back in.

Xavier’s brow furrowed as he shifted the car into park and back to drive, trying again. The tires spun helplessly, the grinding sound sending a chill down your spine. He muttered a curse under his breath, slamming the gearshift back into park as the car remained stationary.

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice tense. “Stay here. I’m going to check it out.”

Panic surged through you as he stepped out of the car, the chill of the night air rushing in before he shut the door. You watched as he crouched near the front tire, his movements quick and precise. Every second felt like an eternity as you sat there, clutching your belly protectively, your daughter’s frantic movements adding to your unease.

When Xavier finally returned, the grim set of his jaw sent a fresh wave of fear through you. He climbed back into the driver’s seat and closed the door firmly, exhaling through his nose as he gripped the steering wheel.

“Don’t panic,” he began, though his tone did little to reassure you. He turned to you, his blue eyes steady but shadowed with tension. “The tires are all slashed.”

The blood drained from your face. Your stomach churned as the implications sank in. You didn’t need to ask who had done it; the answer came to you instantly, chilling and absolute. “It was them,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “The twins.”

Xavier’s jaw tightened at your words, his eyes narrowing. “The twins?” he repeated, his voice sharp with concern. “Who are they?”

“Sylus’s henchmen,” you explained quickly, your words tumbling out in a rush. “They’re basically his…his shadows. If Mephisto was here, then they can’t be far behind. They always work together.”

Xavier’s lips pressed into a thin line as his gaze flickered toward the dark forest outside. The air in the car felt suffocating now, thick with the weight of unspoken fears. “So they were watching us this whole time,” he said grimly, his tone more a statement than a question.

You nodded, your hands trembling as they gripped the edge of the seat. “They had to have been. They’re not just criminals—they’re smart. Calculated. If they wanted us stuck here, then—”

“Then this was planned,” Xavier finished, his expression hardening. He rubbed a hand over his face, his fingers briefly tugging at his hair before dropping to his lap. “Damn it.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the reality of the situation pressing down on you. The car was useless now, and the forest outside felt more menacing than ever. Every shadow seemed to shift, every sound amplified as though the trees themselves were conspiring to hide your pursuers.

“What do we do now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The fear in your chest felt suffocating, your breaths shallow and uneven.

Xavier’s gaze snapped back to you, his expression softening slightly. “We’ll figure something out,” he said firmly. “But first, we need to stay calm.”

The sound of a branch snapping in the distance made you flinch, your heart leaping into your throat. Xavier’s head snapped toward the noise, his body tensing as his hand instinctively went to the knife strapped to his belt.

“They’re out there,” you said, your voice trembling. “Aren’t they?”

He didn’t answer immediately, his eyes scanning the darkness outside the window. His posture was rigid, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring. “Maybe,” he admitted finally, his voice low. “But if they wanted to come in guns blazing, they would’ve done it already. They’re waiting.”

“For what?” you asked, though you weren’t sure you wanted to know the answer.

Xavier shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “For us to panic. To make a mistake.” His hand moved to yours, covering it with a gentle but firm grip. “Listen to me. I won’t let them take you and the baby. Do you understand?”

You nodded, though the fear in your chest didn’t subside. Your mind raced, every scenario more terrifying than the last. The car was no longer an option, and the cabin behind you suddenly felt like the least safe place in the world.

Another sound echoed through the forest—a low, distant rustling that sent a fresh wave of terror coursing through you. Xavier’s hand tightened around yours as his gaze snapped back to the window.

“We need to move,” he said, his voice firm. “But not yet. We’ll wait until the timing is right. They’re trying to force us into running blindly. We won’t give them that.”

The seconds stretched into minutes as the two of you sat there, waiting, the oppressive silence broken only by the sound of your unsteady breathing and the faint rustle of leaves outside. Your daughter stirred again, her movements frantic, as if she could sense the danger surrounding you.

You pressed a hand to your belly, whispering a silent promise to her: you would find a way out of this. That neither of you would have to go back.

The forest was quiet, the kind of quiet that thrummed with anticipation. Sylus stood at the edge of the clearing, his sharp eyes fixed on the distant glow of the cabin windows. The cool night air brushed against his face, but it did little to soothe the fire raging beneath his calm exterior. His hands, gloved in soft leather, clenched and relaxed rhythmically as he waited.

Mephisto broke the silence, swooping down from the shadows above and landing neatly on Sylus’s shoulder. The crow’s claws dug lightly into the leather, but Sylus didn’t flinch. Instead, his lips curled into a faint smirk as his mind reached out to the familiar connection, letting the images Mephisto had captured flood his vision.

What he saw made the smirk vanish instantly, replaced by a cold, volatile fury.

There you were—his woman, his fiancé—lying on a bed, your face lit with an expression of vulnerability and longing that twisted something deep in his chest. And then there was Xavier, that thorn in his side, that meddling pest, kneeling beside you. Xavier leaned in close, his face hovering near yours, your breaths mingling in a way that made Sylus’s blood boil.

The calm he had maintained so carefully shattered, his pulse pounding in his ears as the next images unfolded. Xavier’s hand brushed against your cheek, his gaze locked onto yours with a tenderness that made Sylus want to rip him apart. Then, you leaned in, your lips parting slightly as if to meet Xavier halfway.

A sharp intake of breath escaped Sylus as he clenched his jaw tightly. How dare he? How dare that pathetic little knight touch you, try to kiss you, as if you weren't already marked by another man’s seed? His seed. You carried his child and yet Xavier had the audacity to act as though he still had any claim to you? The very thought made Sylus’s hands curl into fists, his nails digging into his palms beneath the leather gloves.

The next moments in Mephisto’s broadcast showed the two of you scrambling to your feet, startled by the crow’s sudden cry. Your panic was clear, your hand instinctively going to your belly. Sylus’s chest tightened at the sight, a twisted mixture of anger and possessiveness flooding his veins. Even in your fear, you looked radiant. Fragile, yes, but his.

A voice crackled in his ear, snapping him back to the present. “Boss,” came the low, gravelly voice of Luke, one of the twins. “Tires have been slashed already. They’re sitting in the car, looking pretty spooked. Let us know when you want us to move in.”

Sylus closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting out a slow exhale. He rolled his shoulders, his jaw tightening as he composed himself. When he opened his eyes again, they were steely, his expression hard yet laced with a faint, unsettling smirk.

“Don’t do anything rash before I get there,” he said, his voice dangerously calm. “He’s mine for the kill.”

Luke’s voice came back immediately. “Understood.”

Sylus allowed himself a moment to flip a coin absentmindedly, his mind racing with plans. Every fiber of his being demanded action, demanded that he tear Xavier limb from limb for daring to touch what was his. But he wasn’t a man who acted without precision. No, Xavier would pay, but it would be on Sylus’s terms. And you…you would see that no one could love you the way he did. No one could protect you, provide for you, the way he could.

His gaze flicked toward the cabin again, his expression softening just slightly as he thought of you. You had been his obsession, his guiding star, for far too long. The thought of you with another man—especially one as undeserving as Xavier—was unbearable. It made his blood seethe, his mind cloud with thoughts of retribution. But beneath it all, his love for you burned brighter than his anger.

“She’ll understand,” he murmured to himself, his voice low and reverent. “Once that pest is gone, she’ll see it was always meant to be me.”

Mephisto cawed softly, tilting his head as if to mirror Sylus’s thoughts.

“Let’s move,” he murmured, his voice low and sharp, carrying the weight of his resolve. His fingers brushed over Mephisto’s feathers as his lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile. “It’s time to bring her back where she belongs.”

With one last glance toward the cabin, Sylus turned and disappeared into the shadows. His movements were precise, deliberate, like a predator closing in on its quarry. Tonight, he would end this charade. Xavier’s interference would be silenced for good, and you would finally see—you had always been his.

Sylus materialized in the clearing with a flash of red mist, the energy dissipating into the night as quickly as it had appeared. He stood among the trees, his presence shrouded in shadow, but his vantage point offered a clear view of the car and the unfolding scene. The twins had closed in, their movements deliberate, like wolves circling prey. Xavier, bold as ever, had stepped out of the car, his posture taut with readiness.

Sylus raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. Bold choice, Xavier. He leaned casually against a tree, his arms folded as he watched, curiosity piqued. This could prove entertaining.

“Long time no see, my old friend!” Kieran called out, his voice carrying a mockery that grated against the stillness of the night. He stepped closer, his confident strides deliberate, rife with mischief.

Xavier’s entire body went rigid, his arm snapping out as if on instinct. In a flash of shimmering light, a massive blue sword appeared in his hands, its surface glowing with a brilliance that contrasted sharply against the night. He held it out in front of him, its weight steady in his grip, the tip pointed menacingly at Kieran.

Sylus tilted his head, his smirk widening. So, Dr. Merill wasn’t kidding. The bastard really is working with EVER. His eyes flicked to the weapon in Xavier’s hands, taking in its construction and energy signature. Impressive. But not enough. He chuckled quietly to himself, staying hidden among the shadows.

“Get back if you know what’s good for you,” Xavier warned, his voice low and edged with fury. His glare was sharp enough to cut, but Kieran seemed unfazed.

“Woah, woah, calm down,” Luke interjected, his hands raised in mock surrender as he approached from the other side. “We’re not here for you. Just picking up what belongs to the boss.”

Luke gestured lazily toward the car, his grin widening. “If you just let her go, we’ll all get out of here unscathed. Well,” he added with a shrug, “she will either way. But you know what I mean.”

The tension snapped like a coiled spring as Xavier lunged forward, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. Luke narrowly dodged the strike, his reflexes sharp, but not sharp enough to escape unscathed. A thin piece of his hood fluttered to the ground, the fabric severed by the glowing blade. Luke glanced at it, then laughed, the sound rough and full of derision.

“Woah, you actually managed a hit this time!” he said, his demeanor twisting into something darker. “Time to get serious then, eh?”

The fight erupted in a blur of motion.

Xavier pressed the attack, his blade a streak of blue light as it arced through the air. Luke countered, twisting and dodging with practiced ease, his movements fluid as water. Kieran joined the fray, his twin daggers gleaming wickedly as he darted in and out, testing Xavier’s defenses. The two moved in perfect synchronization, their coordination seamless, but Xavier held his ground, his blade a glowing barrier that kept them at bay.

Sylus watched with mild interest, his gaze shifting between the clashing figures. Every strike, every dodge, was a calculated move, and yet…his focus drifted.

His eyes found you in the passenger seat of the car, your face fear stricken and drawn, your hands trembling as they clutched your belly. Even from this distance, he could see the anxiety etched into your features, the way your shoulders shook with barely contained sobs. His chest tightened, a pang of something tender cutting through his fury. Poor thing. Terrified. This isn’t good for your heart-or the baby’s.

How he longed to end this now, to sweep you into his arms and whisk you far away from all of this chaos. To hold you, to remind you that you were his, that you were safe as long as you were in his arms. But it wasn’t the time. Not yet.

A flash of blue light snapped his attention back to the fight. Xavier had unleashed a wave of energy from his blade, the force slamming into the ground and sending a shockwave through the clearing. The twins scattered, their footing faltering for a moment before they regained their composure.

Kieran darted back in, his daggers flashing as he aimed for Xavier’s flank. Xavier pivoted, his sword meeting the strike with a deafening clash of steel. Luke moved in from the other side, his strikes precise and unrelenting. The three danced a deadly rhythm, the clash of their weapons ringing through the night.

And then it happened.

Xavier unleashed another wave of blue energy, this one larger, more unstable. The force of it shattered the window on the passenger side of the car, sending shards of glass raining down. Your scream pierced the air, high and raw, the sound cutting through the chaos like a knife.

Sylus’s composure shattered.

His eyes locked onto the broken window, his breath catching as he saw you huddled inside, your arms wrapped protectively around your belly. Fear radiated from you, palpable even at a distance. The sight made his blood run hot, his fury igniting into something all-consuming.

“Enough,” he growled, the word barely audible over the pounding of his heart.

In a blur of his Evol, Sylus stepped forward, emerging from the shadows with deadly intent. The twins faltered for a moment, sensing his presence before they saw him. Xavier froze, his glowing blade still raised, as Sylus appeared at the edge of the clearing.

“This ends now,” Sylus said, his voice low and sharp, each word dripping with authority. His eyes burned with a mix of fury and possession as they fixed on Xavier. “Step away from her, or I’ll make you regret ever coming near what’s mine.”

The clearing fell into an uneasy silence, the tension crackling like a storm ready to break.

Sylus had entered the fray, and there would be no escape.

"Ah, look, the man of the hour," Xavier said through clenched teeth, his voice laced with venom. But his gaze wasn’t on Sylus. It wasn’t on the twins, who had stepped back to watch the show unfold. No, his focus was entirely on you, huddled in the passenger seat of the car, your body shaking as sobs wracked through you.

Sylus followed his line of sight, his own jaw tightening as he took in the scene. You were crying—crying because of him, because of this idiot who had dragged you into a situation you were never meant to endure. His vision blurred with rage, and his hand clenched at his side, crimson energy crackling around his fingers. How dare he look at you. How dare he make you cry.

Your tears belonged to him and him only.

“Eyes on me, Xavier,” Sylus growled, his voice low and cold. Without waiting for a response, he sent a sharp burst of red energy hurtling toward him.

Xavier moved quickly, throwing himself to the side just as the energy blasted through the space where he had been standing. The ground shook from the impact, a cloud of dirt and debris rising into the air, but Xavier recovered almost immediately, his glowing sword at the ready.

“You missed,” Xavier taunted, though the strain in his voice betrayed his nerves.

Sylus smirked darkly. “Never twice.”

The second wave of crimson energy struck true, slamming into Xavier’s chest and sending him hurtling backward. He crashed into a tree with a sickening thud, the bark splintering under the force. The impact was enough to send a gasp of pain from Xavier, but to Sylus’s annoyance, the man was already on his feet again, the blue glow of his sword flaring brighter.

“Persistent as ever,” Sylus muttered, his tone dripping with disdain. "Should I break the rest of the bones in your body?"

Xavier didn’t waste words. With a determined cry, he lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air with deadly precision. Sylus sidestepped effortlessly, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“You’re still not enough,” Sylus said, his voice calm, almost bored. He ducked beneath another swing, his movements fluid and precise, like a predator toying with its prey. “Not for me. And certainly not for her.”

The jab hit its mark. Xavier’s face twisted with anger, and he pressed the attack, his strikes coming faster, harder, each one designed to break through Sylus’s seemingly impenetrable defenses. But Sylus was faster. He weaved through the onslaught with practiced ease, his body moving with an unnatural grace that made it seem as though he were barely trying.

“You really thought this would end differently?” Sylus sneered, blocking a particularly aggressive strike with a burst of red energy that sent Xavier staggering back. “After everything you’ve seen, everything you know about me, you still thought you could win?”

“I don’t need to win,” Xavier spat, his chest heaving as he steadied his grip on the sword. “I just need to buy enough time to get her away from you.”

Sylus’s smirk vanished, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Get her away from me?” His voice was low, deadly quiet. “You mean my woman. The mother of my child.” He advanced on Xavier, his crimson energy pulsing with every step. “You think you have any claim to her? That you can just erase the mark I’ve left on her body, her soul?”

Xavier lunged again, this time aiming for Sylus’s side, but Sylus deflected the blow effortlessly, the clash of energy and steel ringing out like thunder. Their fight became a blur of movement—Xavier’s sword glowing brilliantly as it carved through the night air, Sylus’s crimson bursts lighting up the clearing like flashes of lightning.

“You’ve always been a pest, Xavier,” Sylus taunted as he dodged another strike, his tone dripping with mockery. “An irritating, self-righteous thorn in my side. But now?” He parried with a burst of red energy that sent Xavier skidding backward. “Now you’re just embarrassing yourself.”

“Better than being a monster,” Xavier shot back, his voice filled with defiance. “She deserves better than you.”

Sylus laughed, the sound sharp and humorless. “Better than me? Let me make one thing clear—there is no better than me. You’re a cheap imitation of a savior, playing hero while I’ve given her everything. Protection. Security. A future.” His eyes gleamed with malice. “And let’s not forget who put that life inside of her.”

The words struck a nerve. Xavier roared in fury, his blade flaring brighter than ever as he charged forward. Sylus met him head-on, their energies colliding in a dazzling explosion of red and blue energy. The force of the impact sent shockwaves through the clearing, the ground trembling beneath their feet.

The fight reached a fever pitch, each strike more desperate, more vicious than the last. Their breaths came in ragged gasps, their bodies moving on instinct as they sought the final blow. Sylus’s crimson energy swirled around him like a storm, each burst pushing Xavier closer to his limit. But Xavier held his ground, his sword a beacon of determination as it clashed against Sylus’s unrelenting power.

And then, just as they both prepared to strike again, a scream tore through the night.

“Stop! Stop! I love him!”

The sound froze them both in place. Xavier’s sword wavered, the light flickering as his gaze snapped toward the car. Sylus’s red energy dimmed, his breath catching as he turned to face you.

You were standing outside the car now, your body trembling as tears streamed down your face. Your hands were pressed protectively against your belly, your voice cracking with desperation as you continued, “I love him. Please, stop this.”

The clearing fell silent, save for the sound of your sobs. Sylus’s chest tightened as he stared at you, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. Anger, confusion, jealousy—all of it warred with the ache in his chest at the sight of you so distraught.

“She doesn’t mean you,” Xavier said, his voice quiet but filled with a quiet certainty. His sword lowered slightly, but the fire in his eyes remained.

"Please," you sobbed, your voice breaking with raw emotion. "I love him."

Your tear-stricken face was illuminated by the faint glow of the shattered car window, your trembling figure standing between the two men like a fragile barrier. Sylus’s gaze softened for a fraction of a second as he looked at you, his crimson energy dimming completely. For a moment, he seemed to falter, his lips parting as if to speak.

But before he could say a word, you closed the distance between you, your movements shaky yet determined. Your hands rose, cupping his face as your lips pressed against his in a desperate, trembling kiss.

Sylus froze, his entire body stiffening in shock. His hands hovered uncertainly at your sides, his breath catching at the unexpected intimacy. The warmth of your touch, the softness of your lips, overwhelmed him, sending a jolt of emotion coursing through him. Slowly, he began to relax, his arms coming around you tentatively at first, then tightening as if he were afraid to let go.

The world seemed to vanish around you both, the tension of the fight dissolving into nothingness. For a fleeting moment, there was no Xavier, no fight, no fear—just the two of you. Sylus’s eyes fluttered shut, his grip on you firm but reverent, as if he were holding something he had thought lost forever.

When you finally pulled away, your hands lingering against his jaw, Sylus’s eyes opened slowly, searching yours for meaning. His breaths were uneven, his usually sharp features softened by something unguarded, something vulnerable.

But as his gaze shifted, it landed on Xavier.

Xavier stood frozen, his glowing sword lowered but not extinguished, his expression a mask of disbelief. His eyes darted between you and Sylus, the realization of what he had just witnessed spreading across his face like a storm cloud.

Sylus’s lips curved into the faintest smirk, his arms still encircling you as if to stake his claim. But behind the smug satisfaction in his expression was something deeper—a glint of triumph, yes, but also tenderness as his attention returned to you.

For Sylus, this moment was victory enough.

He was going to kill him.

You could see it in Sylus’s relentless movements, the sharp precision of his strikes. Every motion was calculated, each blow aimed to end the fight with finality. You had seen Sylus survive the unimaginable—a gunshot to the heart, wounds that would leave any other man lifeless. He wasn’t just strong; he was unstoppable. And Xavier, despite his determination, was still part human. Mortal. The inevitable loomed before you like a shadow, suffocating and cold.

As you watched them clash, glass crunching beneath their feet and bursts of light illuminating the clearing, you could feel your world spiraling out of control. The thought of Xavier bleeding out, his lifeless body crumpled on the ground while you stood by and did nothing, was unbearable. Your daughter kicked violently within you, as though mirroring the chaos outside. One hand clutched your stomach, trying to soothe her, while the other shook at your side. You had to stop this.

Luke’s voice startled you as he opened the car door. “Miss,” he said, his tone calm and measured, “it’s better if we take you over there. It’s safer.”

His hand reached for your shoulder, firm but not rough, intending to guide you away. The thought of leaving the fight—leaving Xavier��ignited something desperate within you. Without thinking, you jerked away from Luke’s grip, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

“Miss—hey!” Luke called after you as you stumbled out of the car, but you didn’t stop. Your feet carried you forward, your chest heaving as you approached the fight. The chaos of the battle was deafening—the clash of Sylus’s crimson energy colliding with the brilliant blue glow of Xavier’s sword. The two men were locked in a brutal dance, their movements fast and unrelenting, and you knew there was only one way to stop it.

You drew a deep breath, your voice breaking as you screamed, “Stop! Stop! I love him!”

The words seemed to pierce through the clamor, freezing both men mid-strike. Sylus’s crimson Evol dimmed as he turned to look at you, his expression unreadable, while Xavier’s glowing sword lowered slightly, his face contorting with confusion.

Tears streaked down your cheeks as you stumbled closer. “Stop… please don’t hurt him,” you sobbed, your voice cracking. “I love him.”

Their reactions couldn’t have been more different. Sylus’s crimson eyes narrowed, his brows furrowing as though trying to process your words. Xavier, on the other hand, stood frozen, his sword wavering in his hand, the light dimming as his disbelief deepened.

Before Sylus could respond, you closed the distance between you and him, your legs trembling beneath you as you took each step. The weight of what you were about to do crushed you, but there was no other choice. You couldn’t let Xavier die.

You reached up, your hands shaking as you cupped Sylus’s face, and pressed your lips against his.

Sylus froze beneath your touch, his body stiffening in shock. His Evol flickered, dimming entirely as the kiss lingered. Then, slowly, he began to move, his hands coming up to your waist as he leaned into the kiss. His embrace was firm, possessive, pulling you closer as though to confirm what he couldn’t quite believe.

Your stomach churned, your heart splintering into pieces as you allowed it to happen. You didn’t mean it—not any of it—but this was the price you had to pay to keep Xavier alive.

When you finally pulled away, your breath came in ragged gasps, tears streaming down your face. Sylus’s crimson eyes searched yours, his features softening as though he had found something he had been searching for all along. You couldn’t look at him for long. Slowly, reluctantly, you turned toward Xavier.

The sight that met you shattered what was left of your heart.

Xavier stood a few feet away, his sword now lowered completely, the glowing blade extinguished. His chest rose and fell heavily, his breaths uneven as he stared at you. His eyes, usually so strong and full of fire, were wide with disbelief and hurt. A tear slipped down his cheek, catching the faint light, and his lip trembled as he tried—and failed—to speak.

“You’re lying,” he said finally, his voice a strained whisper. His body leaned forward slightly, as though he were about to take a step, but he stopped himself, his fists clenching at his sides. His eyes pleaded with you, searching your face for some sign that this wasn’t real.

You wanted to run to him, to throw your arms around him and tell him the truth. To tell him that it wasn’t real, that it was a lie, that you loved him and only him. But you couldn’t. This was the only way to save him.

“I do,” you said, forcing the words past the lump in your throat. “I do mean it. I love Sylus, Xavier. Please, let’s all just stop this now.”

Xavier flinched as though you’d struck him, his entire body trembling. His lips parted, and for a moment, it seemed like he might argue, might demand the truth. But then you continued, your voice trembling as fresh tears spilled down your cheeks.

“I’ll go back with you,” you said, turning to Sylus, your tone pleading. “Just don’t kill him. Please. I don’t want anyone to die because of me.”

Sylus’s expression softened instantly, the edges of his fury melting away as he reached up to brush your tears from your cheeks. “You don’t have to cry, honey,” he murmured, his voice low and tender. “I won’t.”

He wrapped his arms around you, his hold firm but comforting. His warmth surrounded you, and you felt yourself crumbling inside. You hated his touch, hated the way your body betrayed you by finding even the smallest sense of safety in his embrace. You hated that this was what you had to do to protect Xavier.

Behind you, a broken voice called your name.

You turned, your heart lurching at the sound, and what you saw next almost brought you to your knees.

Xavier’s face was streaked with tears now, his strong shoulders shaking as he tried to hold himself together. His lips quivered, his eyes full of unspeakable pain as he stared at you, the depth of his betrayal etched into every line of his expression. Another tear fell, rolling down his cheek before dripping to the ground.

You wanted to run to him, to fall to your knees and beg him to understand. But all you could do was watch, trapped in Sylus’s arms, as the man you loved shattered before your eyes.

“I did all of this. For you,” Xavier said, his voice breaking under the weight of his emotions. He stood frozen, his shoulders tense, his fists trembling at his sides as he stared at you. His words came slowly, as if each one cost him something. “You left with me. You wanted to kiss me too… in the cabin.” His tone grew quieter, almost disbelieving, as though he couldn’t reconcile what had just happened with what he thought you shared. “Are you saying that was all a lie?”

The air seemed to leave your lungs. Each syllable he spoke cut into you, deep and unrelenting, making it harder to breathe. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer, your heart screaming no, no, no, but your lips refusing to move.

Xavier’s voice cracked again, barely above a whisper. “Tell me. Was it really a lie?”

Your chest tightened, and you felt your knees threaten to buckle. How could you answer? How could you stand there and tell him the truth when Sylus was mere steps away, watching every move, waiting to retaliate at the slightest provocation? The truth would get Xavier killed, and that was something you couldn’t bear.

You wanted to scream the truth at him, to tell him it wasn’t a lie, that everything in the cabin—the kiss you almost shared, the way you trusted him with your fears—was real. But you couldn’t. You had to protect him. The lie sat like poison on your tongue, burning as it fought to escape.

Finally, trembling, you forced the words out, your voice hollow and shaking. “Yes,” you said, barely audible at first, but then louder, steadier, as though repeating the lie could somehow make it more convincing. “I was just mad at Sylus. I’m sorry.”

The words fell like stones between you, heavy and suffocating. You saw the light in Xavier’s eyes dim as though you’d extinguished it yourself. His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, his jaw tightening as he fought to process what you’d just said. His gaze locked onto you, his eyes searching desperately for some crack in your resolve, some sign that you didn’t mean it.

But there was nothing you could give him. Your body was frozen, your voice gone, leaving you to stand there in silence as the man you loved broke before you.

Xavier took a step back, his lips parting as though to protest. He looked at you with the same disbelief that had first crossed his face, only now it was mixed with something far more devastating—pain, betrayal, devastation. His voice came again, barely above a whisper. “That wasn’t real to you? Any of it?”

He took another step forward, his hand rising slightly as though he might reach for you, but it faltered in mid-air. “You wanted to kiss me. You stayed with me because you wanted to. Are you saying none of that mattered?”

Your mouth opened, but no sound came. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer. Your heart screamed at you to tell the truth, to let him see what you were truly feeling, but your voice wouldn’t obey. Tears welled in your eyes as your silence stretched on.

Xavier’s hands dropped to his sides, clenched into fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He looked as though he wanted to say something more, as if he was still clinging to the hope that you might tell him it was a lie. But before he could, Sylus stepped in front of you, his presence commanding and deliberate.

“You heard the lady,” Sylus said, his voice calm but carrying a dangerous edge. His eyes narrowed as they fixed on Xavier, his lips curling into the faintest smirk. “I’m being merciful because that’s what she wishes.”

Sylus took a step closer, placing himself between you and Xavier completely, his hand brushing against your waist in a possessive gesture that made you flinch. His voice dropped lower, colder, as he added, “But don’t mistake that mercy for weakness. You’d be wise not to test me again.”

Xavier’s eyes snapped to Sylus, blazing with barely contained fury. His body trembled with the effort of holding himself back, his jaw tightening as he forced himself to remain still. But his gaze quickly flicked back to you, the fire in his expression dimming as he took in your tear-streaked face.

“Is this really what you want?” Xavier asked, his voice breaking completely. The question wasn’t for Sylus—it was for you and you alone. His tone was raw, desperate, filled with so much pain that you felt your heart crack under the weight of it.

You wanted to scream no, to tell him this wasn’t what you wanted, that none of this was real. But Sylus’s presence loomed over you, a silent reminder of what was at stake. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it impossible to speak for a moment.

“Yes,” you whispered, the lie barely audible. But it was enough.

Xavier flinched again as though you’d physically struck him, his entire body sagging under the weight of your words. His eyes glistened, tears slipping free despite his best efforts to hold them back. His lips quivered, his hands shaking as he struggled to find something to hold onto—some reason not to believe what he was hearing.

But there was nothing you could give him that wouldn't put him in more danger.

Another tear slid down Xavier’s cheek as he turned his head away, his shoulders shaking as he struggled to contain the sob that threatened to escape. Without another word, he stepped back into the shadows, the faint glow of the fight long gone.

And just like that, the man you loved disappeared into the night, leaving you behind with a man that had changed everything.

You crumbled to your knees, your sobs breaking through the stillness of the night like jagged shards of glass. The weight of the moment bore down on you, crushing your chest, making it nearly impossible to breathe. The day you’d spent with Xavier flashed before your eyes—the way he’d smiled at you, held you, made you feel human again, even if just for a fleeting moment. For months, you had known nothing but fear and dread, but with him, you’d felt something you thought you’d lost forever: hope.

And now it was gone.

The realization tore through you, raw and unrelenting. Xavier was gone, his pain etched into your memory, and the hollow ache in your chest was unbearable. All hope of being with him, of building a life together, had vanished. You’d given it up. Given him up. You had to, or Sylus would have killed him. Trying to hold onto him, yearning for him, would be his end.

But knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.

You longed to run after him, to throw yourself into his arms one last time, to bury your face in his chest and tell him the truth. You wanted to see his eyes again—those eyes that had looked at you with such unwavering love—just once more. But your body betrayed you, too heavy with despair to move. You collapsed further onto the ground, clutching your stomach as your daughter kicked violently, her tiny movements only adding to the chaos inside you.

“Shhh,” Sylus’s voice sliced through the haze, low and soothing, dripping with false warmth. “Come now, my love. It’s over."

You felt his arms slide beneath you, lifting you effortlessly from the ground as though you weighed nothing. His touch was gentle, yet his strength was undeniable, a reminder of the control he had over you. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, cradling you against his chest as though you were something precious. “You don’t need to cry anymore.”

You flinched at his touch, disgust curling in your stomach, but your body was too drained to resist. Your sobs turned to quiet gasps as he carried you toward his car, his lips brushing your hair in a mockery of tenderness. The scent of him—warm, sharp, and faintly earthy—made your head swim.

“Lets go home,” he murmured into your ear, his voice a soft hum that made your skin crawl.

The twins followed swiftly behind, their movements efficient as they climbed into the driver and passenger seats. You barely registered them. Everything felt distant, muted, like you were drifting underwater. Sylus placed you carefully into the car, fastening the seatbelt over your trembling form before sliding in beside you. His presence was suffocating, his warmth oppressive as he leaned closer, his eyes fixed on you.

“Say it again,” he said suddenly, his voice breaking through the fog in your mind.

You blinked, your tear-streaked face tilting toward him in confusion. “Wh-what?” you stammered, your voice hoarse from crying.

“Say it again,” he repeated, his crimson eyes boring into yours, intense and unyielding. His hands reached for your face, cradling it gently, almost reverently. “Say you love me.”

Your stomach twisted violently, the bile rising in your throat as his words registered. The sheer audacity of the request—no, the demand—made your breath hitch. His gaze was burning, his expression raw with yearning and something darker, more possessive. It wasn’t just a request. It was a need, a hunger that radiated from him like a physical force.

“No,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you tried to pull away from his grasp. “I can’t. It was a lie. I don’t love you.”

You braced yourself for his anger, for his retaliation. You’d seen him unleash his fury before, had witnessed the cold, ruthless man he could become. But to your shock, Sylus didn’t lash out. Instead, his lips curved into a small smile, one that sent a shiver down your spine.

“I don’t care,” he said softly, his voice steady, almost amused. “You already chose me. I just want to hear it again.”

Before you could react, his gaze dropped to your lips, and he leaned in, capturing them in a kiss so intense it left you breathless. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that was almost overwhelming, as though he wanted to consume every part of you. His hands tightened on your face, holding you in place, his warmth pressing against you until it felt suffocating.

When he finally pulled away, his lips didn’t linger far, trailing a deliberate, heated path down to your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, each exhale brushing against the sensitive curve of your throat and sending a shiver racing down your spine. His movements were slower now, almost maddeningly so, as though he was savoring every inch of you. His lips pressed lightly, his touch deceptively soft as his presence loomed over you, suffocating and consuming.

“Say it,” he whispered against your skin, the word vibrating through you like an electric current. His tone was lower now, husky, his lips brushing against the delicate pulse point in your neck as he spoke. “Please.”

The word stopped you cold. You froze, your breath catching as his plea registered. Please. Sylus had never said “please” before. The sheer vulnerability in the word felt so alien, so at odds with the man who had destroyed and controlled everything in your life. His dominance was still there, suffocating and unrelenting, but beneath it, you could hear a strange desperation, a yearning that twisted your stomach into knots.

Your body betrayed you, the proximity of him igniting a sensation you couldn’t suppress. The heat of his breath, the faint brush of his lips against your skin, sent an unwelcome tingling sensation spreading through you. It was subtle at first—a faint, involuntary reaction to the closeness, to the warmth—but it grew stronger with every second he lingered, every featherlight graze of his lips against your neck.

Was it desire? Was it longing? Or was it just a physical response you couldn’t control? Whatever it was made you feel sick. Your skin tingled with an unwanted awareness of him, the sensation making you hyperconscious of the way his fingers lightly pressed against your jaw, the way his breath fanned out across your throat.

You hated it. Hated the way your body responded against your will, the way the sensations made it harder to focus, harder to think. Every nerve felt raw, heightened, betraying you in ways that made your chest ache with anger and despair. You wanted to pull away, to scream, to tell him to stop, but your body was frozen, caught between the weight of his presence and the sharp, pulsing awareness of every point of contact between you.

“I won’t,” you finally managed, your voice trembling but resolute. The words came out more as a breathless whisper than the firm refusal you wanted them to be. You turned your head sharply, breaking the connection between his lips and your skin, your tears spilling freely as you struggled to regain control of yourself. “I won’t say it.”

His low chuckle rumbled against you, sending another unwelcome shiver down your spine. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice carrying an infuriating amusement, as though your resistance only intrigued him further. “Have it your way, then sweetie.”

You hated him. Hated the smugness in his voice, the possessiveness in his touch. You hated the life growing inside you—not your daughter, never her—but the circumstances that bound you to Sylus. You hated everything he had taken from you—Xavier, your freedom, your hope.

The ache in your chest grew sharper, hotter, until it felt like your heart was being squeezed by an iron fist, crushing every beat into a strained, painful rhythm. It wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, a maelstrom of grief, despair, and rage all colliding in a storm you couldn’t contain. Your lungs tightened, each breath coming in short, shallow gasps that left you lightheaded. Your hands trembled violently as you clutched at your chest, your nails digging into the fabric of your dress as though you could physically tear the pain away.

Your vision blurred with tears, the edges of the car around you becoming indistinct smudges of darkness. The warmth of Sylus’s presence beside you felt suffocating, his closeness amplifying the weight pressing down on your ribs. You felt as though you were being crushed under the enormity of it all—your betrayal of Xavier, your surrender to Sylus, your complete and utter loss of control over your life.

Your sobs wracked your body, uncontrollable and raw. Each gasp for air was a battle, your chest heaving as if it were trying to force the pain out with every broken breath. Your skin burned, clammy with sweat that made the night air feel colder than it should have.

“It hurts,” you gasped, your voice trembling, barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing. Tears spilled freely down your cheeks, soaking into the collar of your shirt as your body shook. “It hurts so much…”

The ache radiated outward, stabbing through your arms, your neck, your back, until it felt as though your entire body was rebelling against you. Your heart pounded erratically, each beat sending a sharp, searing pain through your chest. Panic flooded your senses, drowning out reason, making it impossible to focus on anything but the relentless, suffocating pain.

Your mind spiraled, disjointed thoughts flashing through the haze of agony. Is this what heartbreak feels like? Is it my heart—my actual heart? Oh God, what if something’s wrong with the baby? The thought sent another wave of fear crashing over you, your hand moving instinctively to your stomach, trembling as you tried to feel some sign of reassurance, some movement that would tell you everything was okay.

But the kicks you’d felt earlier were gone. Or maybe they were there, and you just couldn’t sense them through the overwhelming fog of pain. The uncertainty made your sobs grow louder, more desperate. You tried to call out, but your voice failed, the words catching in your throat as your chest tightened further.

The edges of your vision darkened, your head spinning as though the world itself had tilted off its axis. You could hear Sylus’s voice beside you, sharp and urgent, but the words didn’t register. Everything was slipping away, your senses fading one by one, until all that remained was the unbearable, unrelenting ache in your chest.

Your vision blurred, your body trembling violently as the pain in your chest became unbearable. The edges of the world grew darker, the sounds around you fading to a dull hum.

“Luke, drive faster,” Sylus barked, his voice sharp and commanding. “Kieran, call Dr. Merill. Now!”

The last thing you registered was the sound of tires screeching, Sylus’s arms tightening around you as his voice grew distant. The pain eased into a strange numbness, the darkness swallowing you whole. Then, nothing.

The forest swallowed him whole.

Xavier moved through the dense shadows like a ghost, his steps heavy and unsteady, each one dragging him deeper into the dark. The clearing, the fight, your face—they all faded into the background, but they lingered in his mind like haunting echoes. The cold night air bit at his skin, but he didn’t feel it. The ache in his chest was too overwhelming, too consuming to notice anything else.

His vision blurred, but not from the darkness. Hot tears streamed down his face, dripping onto the ground as his breaths came in short, ragged bursts. He stumbled over a root, catching himself on a nearby tree, his palm scraping against the rough bark. The pain was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the searing agony in his chest. His heart felt as though it had been torn apart, the raw edges twisting with every step.

She chose him. She said she loves him.

The words repeated in his mind, relentless and cruel. They rang louder than the crunch of his boots against the leaves, louder than the faint rustle of the wind through the trees. He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms as he forced himself to keep moving. But the ache wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t relent, and neither would the tears.

Tears. He hadn’t cried in years. Not really.

As a child, maybe, he had shed a few tears when the world became too big or too frightening to handle. But after that? He had learned to swallow his pain, to bury his emotions deep inside where no one could see them. Tears were for the weak. He had told himself that for so long, believed it so fiercely, that he’d come to think himself immune to them.

But now? Now the dam had broken, and he couldn’t stop. The sobs wracked through his chest, guttural and raw, tearing free from a place so deep he hadn’t even known it existed. You were the only person who could bring him to such a state. He staggered forward, his hand gripping the trunk of a tree to steady himself as the weight of his grief crushed him.

“I love him.”

Your words felt like a knife twisting in his chest, each syllable cutting deeper than the last. He wanted to scream, to curse, to deny it, but all that came out was another broken sob. He slid to his knees, the cold, damp earth biting against his legs as he buried his face in his hands. His shoulders shook with the force of his cries, his breath coming in short, shuddering gasps that left him dizzy.

Why? Why would you say that?

Xavier lifted his head, his tear-streaked face turning upward toward the canopy of trees. His fists clenched, his knuckles white as he pressed them against the ground. “Dammit!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the stillness. “Dammit, dammit, dammit!”

He slammed his fist against the dirt, over and over, each strike a futile attempt to expel the rage and anguish coiled in his chest. But it didn’t help. Nothing helped. The pain was still there, sharp and unrelenting, twisting like a vice around his heart.

“She’s lying,” he muttered, his voice shaking. He sat back on his heels, his hands trembling as they fell to his sides. “She has to be lying.”

But even as he said it, doubt crept in, insidious and cruel. What if you weren't lying? What if you truly had chosen Sylus, had willingly gone back to him? The thought made him sick, his stomach churning as fresh tears blurred his vision.

He clenched his jaw, shaking his head as if to banish the thought. “No,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “No, she wouldn’t…”

But the image of you in Sylus’s arms burned in his mind, seared into his memory like a brand. The way you had looked at Xavier, your tears streaming down your face, your voice trembling with those words—it haunted him. And the way Sylus had held you, his eyes gleaming with triumph, his hand possessively on your waist—it made Xavier’s blood boil.

“She left with me. She…she wanted to kiss me,” he muttered, his voice trembling as he tried to make sense of it all. His thoughts were disjointed, fragments of memory colliding with the present. “That meant something. It had to.”

The tears came harder, the cold, damp earth biting against his skin. He doubled over, his forehead pressing against the dirt as his shoulders shook with silent sobs.

With the weight of her choice crushing him, he couldn’t stop. The sobs wracked through him, raw and uncontrollable, each one tearing free from the depths of his chest.

His thoughts turned to the cabin, to the way you had looked at him, the way your voice had trembled when you told him your fears, the way you had leaned in, so close to kissing him that he could still feel the ghost of your breath. That wasn’t a lie. That wasn’t fake. It couldn’t have been. You had even wanted him to father your baby. It couldn't have been...

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he spoke the words into the void. He lifted his head, staring into the darkness as tears streamed down his face. “I love you too, Evia. Though we'll never meet.”

But you both were gone. And Xavier was left alone in the dark, his heart shattered, his tears falling freely for the first time in a long time.

The world came back to you slowly, like waking from a deep, fevered sleep. At first, it was just a faint hum—a low murmur of voices that seemed distant, like they were coming from the other end of a tunnel. Your body felt heavy, almost detached, as though the weight of the world had pinned you down. Each breath was a shallow struggle, your chest rising and falling weakly. When you finally blinked your eyes open, the soft glow of dim lights stung, making you wince. You knew this place immediately. The pristine decor, the faint scent of cedar and leather—it was unmistakable. You were back in Sylus’s house.

The first thing you registered was the cool sensation against your stomach. Turning your head slightly, you saw Dr. Merrill seated beside you, his expression focused as he maneuvered an ultrasound wand over your belly. The sight of it brought a brief flicker of awareness. Your daughter. The rhythmic beeping of a nearby machine was faintly reassuring, though you weren’t entirely sure why. Merrill’s attention was on the monitor, his sharp gaze scanning the screen as he spoke to someone just out of view. His voice was steady, clinical, but you caught the faint undertone of concern in his words.

“Sylus,” Dr. Merrill said, his tone low but firm. “She seems stable, but there’s still a risk of—”

A soft groan slipped from your lips as you shifted slightly, the effort sending a dull ache through your entire body. Both men turned toward you instantly, their conversation halting mid-sentence. You could feel the weight of their gazes, sharp and assessing, as though waiting for a sign that you were truly awake.

“I knew it wouldn’t be long before she awoke,” Dr. Merill said, offering a small, measured smile as he set the wand down on a nearby tray. His voice carried a practiced calm, but there was something calculating behind his eyes, as though he were studying you. “How are you feeling?”

You tried to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. Your throat felt raw and dry, your tongue heavy in your mouth. The truth was, you felt terrible—your head throbbed, your chest ached, and your entire body felt like it had been wrung out and left to dry. But all you managed was a faint, pitiful whimper. The effort alone left you exhausted, your head sinking back into the pillow.

Sylus was at your side in an instant. His eyes searched your face with an intensity that made your stomach churn, his worry palpable as he brushed a hand across your forehead. His touch was warm, lingering as he frowned. “She’s burning up, Merrill,” he said, his voice tight with concern.

“I’ll get an ice pack,” Dr. Merrill replied briskly, already turning to rummage through his medical bag. His movements were precise, his hands steady as he searched for what he needed.

Sylus didn’t move. His other hand came to rest lightly on your arm, his thumb brushing against your skin in a gesture that was meant to be soothing but only filled you with dread. His gaze never left your face, his expression softening slightly as he leaned closer. “You’re safe now,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “I’ve got you. Just rest.”

You wanted to turn away from him, to shrink from his touch, but your body felt like it was weighed down by lead. Your mind was too hazy, too heavy with exhaustion and something else you couldn’t quite name. The pain in your chest had lessened, but the ache lingered, a reminder of everything that had brought you here.

Dr. Merrill returned, pressing a cool ice pack against your forehead. The sensation was immediate, cutting through the feverish heat clouding your senses and bringing a small measure of relief. “She’ll be fine,” he said, his tone firm and professional as he looked toward Sylus. “Her Protocore Syndrome flared up—too much stress, combined with her advanced stage of pregnancy. Her heart simply couldn’t keep up.”

Sylus’s jaw tightened, his hand lingering on your arm as his gaze flicked to your belly, then back to Merrill. “And the baby?” he asked, his voice clipped, as though he was bracing himself for the answer.

“The baby’s fine,” Merrill reassured him, gesturing to the monitor. “Strong heartbeat, no signs of distress. But,” he added, his tone growing sterner, “she needs rest. No excessive movement, no stress, nothing that could exacerbate her condition. She’s nearing the end of her term, so I recommend daily walks outside to keep her circulation steady—but only in moderation.”

Sylus nodded curtly, his expression unreadable, though his eyes remained fixed on you. There was a strange mix of emotions in his gaze—possessiveness, concern, something darker you couldn’t quite name. His hand moved to brush your hair back from your face, his touch careful, almost tender, though it made your stomach churn. “I’ll make sure of it,” he said simply, his voice carrying a quiet finality.

You barely registered their words. Your mind was far away, trapped in an endless loop of memories and pain. Xavier’s face was burned into your thoughts, a constant, inescapable image. The way he had looked at you—his heartbreak, his disbelief, the tear that had slipped down his cheek. It replayed over and over, a cruel reminder of what you had done, of the man you had destroyed to save him.

You have to let him go, you thought, the words like a knife in your chest. You have to shove him down, bury him so deep he can never surface again. But the harder you tried, the more his face rose to the surface, vivid and all-consuming.

“She’s disassociating,” Dr. Merrill said softly, his voice breaking through the haze of your thoughts. His perceptive gaze fell on you, his tone calm but laced with subtle concern. “Her body may be recovering, but her mind isn’t. She needs time.”

Sylus’s hand tightened slightly against your arm, his touch grounding but heavy. “She’ll have all the time she needs,” he said firmly, his voice low and protective. “I’ll see to it.”

You turned your head slightly, your eyes meeting his. His expression was resolute, his gaze steady as though daring you to challenge him. But you couldn’t. You simply nodded faintly, closing your eyes as the weight of exhaustion and heartbreak pulled you back under.

And as the darkness crept in, Xavier’s tear-streaked face lingered in your mind, unyielding and inescapable. No matter how deep you tried to bury him, he refused to let go. And somewhere deep inside, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to.

The days blurred together as you spent them confined to Sylus’s bed. It wasn’t confinement in the strict sense—there were no locks on the door, no chains tethering you to the room—but you might as well have been imprisoned. Sylus’s presence loomed constantly, his gaze watching your every move with a vigilance that made your skin crawl. Ever since the scare with your heart, he had taken it upon himself to monitor you closely, doing everything in his power to keep you "comfortable."

He did almost everything for you. Too much, in fact. He brought your meals, adjusted your pillows, even attempted to spoon-feed you once. That particular moment had tested what little patience you had left. You’d snatched the fork from his hand with a sharp glare, refusing to meet his amused smile as he murmured something about how stubborn you were.

But even with Sylus hovering and managing every detail of your physical care, your mind remained your own battleground. Xavier haunted you, his face a constant presence in your thoughts. The ache in your chest didn’t ease—it had simply settled into a dull, persistent throb that you carried with you everywhere. What is he doing? Where did he go? Is he still alive?

No matter how hard you tried to push the questions away, they always returned, stubborn and relentless. The moments when Sylus wasn’t in the room were the worst, the silence amplifying your thoughts until they were deafening. Still, you didn’t cry. You had cried so much over the past several months that the tears felt meaningless now. They hadn’t helped you before, and they wouldn’t help you now. There was no catharsis to be found in them, no solace. It was time to accept your circumstances, even if the acceptance tasted bitter on your tongue.

You had fought. You reminded yourself of that every time the despair threatened to pull you under. You had fought with everything you had, and you had lost. But at least you could tell yourself it wasn’t for nothing. Xavier was alive—somewhere—and that had to mean something. At least your loss had bought him time, bought him freedom. That small, fragile victory was all you had to cling to.

And in the quiet moments, you reminded yourself that things could be worse. Sylus could have been cruel in ways that made your skin crawl just to imagine. He could have beaten you, starved you, locked you away in a cage like an animal. But he didn’t. Not physically, at least. His punishments were subtler, his control over you no less suffocating for its lack of physical violence.

It surprised you, though, that Sylus hadn’t punished you at all for running away with Xavier. You had expected fury, retribution, but instead, he had been calm. Gentle, even. It didn’t make sense, and that unsettled you more than if he’d lashed out. Sylus was unpredictable in ways that made it hard to breathe when you were near him.

Your sadness wasn’t just for yourself anymore. It extended to the tiny life growing inside you, to the daughter who had no say in any of this. She would grow up in a world you couldn’t protect her from, tied to a father you couldn’t shield her from. You hated that you couldn’t give her the life she deserved. You hated that you couldn’t even summon excitement for her arrival, though you tried. Coping was all you could manage—coping and surviving.

Eventually, Sylus allowed you to move around the house, though his watchful gaze followed you even then. One night, you found yourself in the nursery, a room you hadn’t spent much time in until now. The soft glow of a lamp lit the space, casting warm shadows over the pale walls and the carefully arranged furniture. A crib stood in the corner, draped with a delicate mobile of stars and clouds, and shelves lined with toys and books hinted at the life your daughter would one day have.

You sat on a small chair by the window, a basket of freshly laundered baby clothes at your feet. Onesies and tiny socks were scattered across your lap, their pastel colors bright against the dim room. Your hands moved automatically, folding and smoothing each piece as you tried to distract yourself with idle fantasies. What will she look like? What will her voice sound like? Will she laugh easily? Cry often?

You weren’t particularly excited, but in these quiet moments, you allowed yourself to wonder. Even if it hurt, even if you felt like you were building castles in the sand while the tide crept closer.

The sound of a voice startled you, and you jumped, the onesie in your hands slipping to the floor.

“You look peaceful,” Sylus said, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the quiet like a blade.

You turned sharply, your heart racing as you saw him leaning casually against the doorframe, his eyes fixed on you. He didn’t move, but his presence filled the room, oppressive and inescapable.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I was just… folding her clothes,” you said, your voice weaker than you intended.

Sylus’s lips curled into a faint smile as he stepped inside, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking prey. “You’re up later than usual,” he said, his tone almost amused. “I wasn’t sure you’d adjust so quickly.”

Your hands clenched into fists around the fabric in your lap, the forced calm of his words grating against your nerves. You didn’t respond. What was there to say?

Sylus reached your side, his fingers brushing against the chair’s backrest as he loomed over you. “You’ll be an excellent mother,” he said softly, his gaze dropping to your belly. “She’ll be amazing. Just like you.”

His words felt like a vice tightening around your chest, the weight of his expectations pressing down on you. You couldn’t meet his eyes anymore, your gaze dropping to the onesies scattered at your feet as your stomach churned.

“Why are you here?” you asked finally, your voice strained.

Sylus tilted his head, his smile deepening. “Because I wanted to talk,” he said simply. And somehow, that answer felt worse than anything else he could have said.

“What’s there to even talk about?” you asked, your voice subdued but tinged with quiet frustration. You kept your gaze on the tiny clothes in your lap, your hands moving aimlessly as you tried to ignore the weight of Sylus’s presence behind you.

“The penthouses,” he said smoothly, as though the answer should have been obvious. “I wanted to know if you’d made up your mind about which one you’d like to move to.”

You sucked in a breath, the mention of it sending a jolt through you. Of course. How could you forget? A larger prison was waiting for you, dressed up as luxury, right after you gave birth to a child you weren’t even sure you could raise or love properly. The thought sat heavy in your stomach, twisting into an ache that threatened to rise to your throat. But you couldn’t let it show. You couldn’t let him see.

Keeping your voice as even as possible, you replied, “Ah. Sorry, it slipped my mind, love. I’ll take a look at them again in the morning, okay?”

You didn’t turn to look at him, your focus firmly planted on the onesies in your lap. The word “love” felt foreign and bitter on your tongue, but you said it anyway, hoping it would keep the moment from escalating. For a moment, the room was silent except for the soft rustle of fabric.

But Sylus wasn’t the type to be brushed aside so easily.

Sylus leaned down next to your head, until you could feel the heat of him breathing next to your ear. His voice was lower now, more commanding as he said, “Look at me.”

The tone of his words left no room for refusal. Your body tensed instinctively, but you obeyed, turning your head slowly to meet his gaze. His eyes locked onto yours, intense and searching, as though he could see every thought, every secret, every feeling buried deep within you. The weight of his stare made your chest tighten, your breath catching as you waited for him to speak.

He didn’t, not at first. The silence stretched on, thick and oppressive, as he simply studied you, his expression unreadable. Finally, he broke the quiet, his voice softer now but no less penetrating. “Are you doing okay these days? You’ve been very quiet.”

The question threw you off balance. His tone carried an air of genuine concern, but you didn’t trust it. Not fully. How could you possibly be okay with everything that had transpired? With everything you’d endured? You swallowed hard, your throat dry as you struggled to find an answer that wouldn’t tip the balance.

“I honestly…don’t know,” you said finally, your voice faltering. The admission felt dangerous, like exposing a raw nerve, but the words slipped out before you could stop them. “Everything’s happening so soon and yet so fast at the same time. And sometimes…”

You hesitated, unsure if you should continue. The rest of the sentence hung on the tip of your tongue, heavy and uncertain. Sylus tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing as he leaned closer, his expression shifting to one of curiosity. “Sometimes?” he prompted, his voice low and coaxing.

You sucked in a nervous breath, your fingers twisting the fabric of a onesie in your lap. The words felt fragile, as though saying them aloud would make them too real, but the look in his eyes made it clear he wouldn’t let it go. Finally, you forced yourself to speak, your voice trembling as you said, “Sometimes I wonder what things would have been like if we had met…y’know, normally.”

His reaction was immediate. His crimson eyes widened slightly, the flicker of surprise unmistakable. For a man who seemed to pride himself on being unreadable, he wasn’t prepared for your words. He blinked once, his lips parting as though he meant to say something, but no sound came out.

Finally, he exhaled slowly, his expression shifting to something contemplative. “That’s…an interesting thought,” he said, his voice quieter now. He straightened slightly, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he seemed to draw closer, his gaze softening as he studied your face. “I’ve thought about it too.”

The admission sent a ripple through you, unsettling and confusing all at once. The idea that Sylus, the man who had orchestrated so much of your suffering, had entertained thoughts of a different life was difficult to reconcile. “You’ve thought about it?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself.

He nodded, his lips curving into a faint, almost wistful smile. “More than once,” he admitted, his tone quieter, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard it. “I wonder…if we’d met under normal circumstances, if I could have shown you the kind of man I wanted to be, instead of the man I had to become.”

The weight of his words settled over you, heavy and unexpected. There was something raw in his tone, something almost regretful, and it left you feeling off-balance. You didn’t know how to respond, so you didn’t. Instead, you looked down, your hands fiddling with the baby clothes as the silence stretched between you.

Sylus let out a soft sigh, stepping closer until he was right beside you. He knelt down, lowering himself to your eye level as his hand reached out to brush against your cheek. His touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as though he was afraid you might flinch. “I know I’ve made your life… difficult,” he said, his voice steady but laced with a rare vulnerability. “But I want to be a better man for you both."

His hand moved to rest lightly on your belly, the gesture both grounding and suffocating. You swallowed hard, your chest tightening as you struggled to process his words.

“Do you hate me?” he asked suddenly, his voice soft but unyielding.

The question hit you like a punch, and your breath caught in your throat. You looked at him, startled by the rawness in his expression. For once, there was no smugness, no calculated charm—just an earnestness that made your heart twist.

“I…” The word stuck, your mind reeling. Did you hate him? You wanted to. You felt like you should. But the emotions tangled inside you were too complex, too messy to pin down. “I don’t know sometimes,” you said finally, your voice barely audible.

Sylus nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. “I can live with that,” he said softly. “As long as there’s a chance for something more.”

He lingered for a moment longer, his hand brushing against yours before he semmed to ponder something. “You don’t have to decide anything about the penthouses, tonight,” he said, his tone returning to its usual steadiness. “Just…think about it.”

But , he didn’t leave. Instead, to your surprise, he leaned beside the basket of baby clothes at your feet, his crimson eyes scanning the scattered onesies and socks as though considering them for the first time. Without a word, he reached for one—a pale yellow onesie with tiny embroidered stars along the collar—and held it up between his fingers.

For a moment, the sight of him holding something so small, so innocent, caught you off guard. It was almost surreal to see Sylus, a man who wielded power with such ease and ruthlessness, gently smoothing out the fabric of a baby’s outfit. His expression softened, and he glanced at you with an almost shy smile.

“These are…smaller than I imagined,” he said quietly, his tone thoughtful. “It’s hard to believe she’ll be wearing this soon.”

You blinked, momentarily disarmed by the gentleness in his voice. “Yeah,” you said softly, your hands stilling on the onesie in your lap. “I guess it’s hard to picture. The size of your hands probably don't help much for comparison though.”

He nodded slightly, his fingers brushing over the fabric before he began folding the onesie carefully, his movements precise but unfamiliar, like someone mimicking an action they’d only ever seen. You watched him silently, unsure of how to process the sight.

When he finished folding, he placed the onesie neatly on the growing pile of clothes and reached for another. “I’ve never done this before,” he admitted, glancing at you briefly. “I’m probably terrible at it.”

A faint, involuntary smile tugged at your lips. “You’re…actually not bad,” you said, your voice softer than you intended.

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly at your words, a faint glimmer of satisfaction in his expression. He picked up a pair of tiny socks next, holding them up with a bemused look. “These are very tiny,” he said, almost to himself. “Will they even fit?”

“They will, at least for a little while” you replied, reaching out to take the socks from him. Your fingers brushed against his briefly, and you pulled back quickly, focusing on folding the socks and setting them aside.

Sylus seemed to notice your reaction but didn’t comment on it. Instead, he continued picking up the clothes one by one, his focus now fully on the task at hand. The silence between you was no longer heavy or strained—it felt almost…normal. The rhythm of folding, smoothing, and stacking clothes became a strange sort of peace, a momentary reprieve from the weight of everything else.

As you worked together, Sylus spoke again, his voice quiet but steady. “I’ve been thinking a lot about her,” he said, his gaze dropping to the clothes in his hands. “What kind of father I’ll be. What kind of life I can give her.”

His words surprised you, and you glanced at him cautiously, unsure of where he was going with this. “And what did you decide?” you asked tentatively.

He paused, his fingers lingering on a pale pink onesie with tiny hearts on the sleeves. “I decided that I want to do better. For her. For you.” His crimson eyes lifted to meet yours, his expression unusually vulnerable. “I know I can’t change the past. But I can change what happens next.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. The sincerity in his voice left you speechless, leaving you struggling to find the right words. Instead, you nodded slightly, your hands moving automatically as you folded another onesie.

Sylus seemed to sense your hesitation, but he didn’t press you. He simply continued folding, the two of you working in quiet companionship. It was a strange moment—so ordinary, yet so weighted by the complexities of your relationship. You didn’t know if you could trust his words, his intentions, but for now, you let yourself focus on the simple, tangible task in front of you.

Because for now, it was all you could manage.

“You’re leaving again?” you asked, your voice edged with disbelief, though you tried to mask it. You watched Sylus move briskly around the room, the scent of his shower lingering in the air—a mix of cedarwood and something faint that seemed uniquely him. Water still clung to the ends of his hair, wet and glistening as he combed it back with quick, practiced strokes. He was buttoning up a crisp red shirt, the tailored fabric clinging perfectly to his broad frame, his every movement purposeful and efficient.

“How long this time?” The question slipped out before you could stop it, your arms folding instinctively over the curve of your belly as you tried to steady yourself. The weight of your pregnancy, both literal and figurative, made his sudden departure feel heavier, more precarious than usual.

Sylus paused, his crimson eyes flicking to meet yours briefly before returning to his task. There was something in his expression—regret, maybe, or something close to it—but his voice was steady when he spoke. “Not long. As much as I hate to leave you, this isn’t something I can ignore.”

The words felt rehearsed, polished, as if he’d already prepared for this conversation in his mind. He moved toward the dresser, fastening a sleek watch around his wrist, the faint metallic click of the clasp echoing in the quiet room. His calmness only unsettled you further.

You shifted uncomfortably, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the curve of your belly as you took in his explanation. “The twins are staying behind to watch you,” he added, his tone matter-of-fact, as if that solved everything. “If anything changes—or your water breaks—they’ll let me know immediately.”

You blinked, absorbing his words. The twins. Of course. They were always his solution when it came to you, a pair of silent shadows who loomed wherever Sylus directed them. It wasn’t exactly reassuring. The thought of those two watching your every move, reporting back to Sylus, made you feel more like a caged bird than ever.

“And this couldn’t wait?” you pressed gently, trying to keep your voice neutral. Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, your heart pounding as you braced for his response.

Sylus turned back toward the mirror, running a hand through his damp hair as he grabbed a small vial of cologne and dabbed it at his neck. The scent mingled with the steam still clinging to the room, rich and sharp. He exuded control, a man preparing for something important. You couldn’t help but wonder where he was going—and why it seemed to demand such attention to detail.

The thought gnawed at you, spiraling into an uncomfortable suspicion. Why does he need to look this good? You didn’t want to voice it, didn’t want to add fuel to the fire, but Sylus must have noticed the flicker of doubt in your expression.

He let out a low chuckle, crossing the room in a few long strides until he stood directly in front of you. “This isn’t to see some other woman,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement. His crimson eyes softened slightly as he leaned down to press a swift kiss to your lips. “Calm down.”

Your cheeks flushed, heat rising to your face. “I wasn’t—” you started, but the words died in your throat as Sylus knelt in front of you, his attention shifting entirely.

He placed his hands lightly on either side of your belly, his touch firm but gentle, and leaned in to press a featherlight kiss against the taut skin. The gesture sent a jolt through you, the intimacy of it disarming you entirely.

“Don’t make your mommy too sick while I’m gone, okay, little dove?” he murmured, his voice lower now, carrying a warmth that felt almost too genuine to bear.

Your heart twisted, conflicted by the tenderness of the moment. Sylus had a way of doing this—disarming you, leaving you unsure of where you stood or how to feel. One moment, he was the man who had torn your life apart, and the next, he was murmuring to your unborn child with a warmth that almost seemed genuine.

Your daughter responded with a faint kick, and your hand moved instinctively to the spot. Sylus noticed, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “She’s awake,” he said softly, his hand brushing yours for the briefest moment before he straightened.

You exhaled slowly, trying to steady your racing heart. “Just…don’t be gone too long,” you said finally, your voice quieter now, almost resigned.

Sylus reached for his jacket, sliding it on in one fluid motion. His movements were quick, efficient, but he paused as he grabbed the doorknob, glancing back at you. His gaze lingered, his expression unreadable for a moment before it softened again.

“I won’t be,” he said, his voice steady but not entirely convincing. “And remember—you’re in good hands.” His eyes flicked briefly toward the door, a silent reference to the twins.

You nodded faintly, your hands moving back to your belly as you tried to ground yourself. “Safe,” you murmured under your breath, the word feeling hollow in the air between you.

Without another word, Sylus opened the door, the cool air of the hallway brushing against your skin as he stepped out. The sound of his shoes echoed faintly as he disappeared down the corridor, leaving you standing alone in the quiet room, your thoughts louder than ever.

You let out a shaky breath, sinking back into the chair by the window. The weight of his absence settled over you, but it was quickly replaced by something else—an unease, a gnawing feeling that refused to let go. You didn’t know where Sylus was going, or why it felt like this time was different. But the thought of him leaving so close to your due date filled you with a quiet, gnawing dread.

The twins weren’t so bad. They were entertaining to watch, at least. They were as attentive as Sylus in some regards, albeit a bit clumsy. While Sylus always carried an air of control, the twins sometimes felt like they were figuring things out as they went along. It was endearing, in its own way—though you’d never admit that to their faces.

You often found yourself watching them out of boredom, your days stretching endlessly in the quiet house. They didn’t talk much unless they had to, and when they did, it was usually to argue with each other in low tones. But their constant presence, though stifling, offered a strange sense of consistency in a life that felt increasingly unsteady.

One morning, you found yourself restless. The nursery had already been organized and reorganized, the house was spotless, and you couldn’t stomach the idea of lying in bed another second. You wandered into the kitchen, the idea of cooking something—anything—suddenly appealing. The smell of vegetables sizzling on the stove, the sound of a knife against a cutting board… it was something tangible, something normal. Something that was yours.

But as soon as you began pulling ingredients from the pantry, the twins appeared. Luke leaned casually against the doorway, his features hidden behind his mask as he watched you. “What are you doing?” he asked, his tone skeptical.

“Cooking,” you replied simply, setting a carton of eggs on the counter.

“Cooking,” he repeated, tilting his head. “You sure you don’t want us to just order something? Less dangerous that way.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling a few vegetables from the fridge. “I’m sure. And if you’re going to hover, you might as well help.”

Luke laughed softly, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s in my job description.”

Kieran, who had been silent until now, stepped forward, his head shifting between you and the array of ingredients on the counter. “What are you making?” he asked, his voice calm.

“Stir-fry,” you replied, grabbing a knife and starting to chop. “Nothing fancy.”

Kieran nodded, moving to the sink to wash his hands. Luke, on the other hand, stayed planted in the doorway, watching with mild amusement.

“You’re actually helping?” Luke asked, incredulous.

“She shouldn’t be standing this long,” Kieran replied simply, taking a carrot from the counter and slicing it with precise, mechanical movements.

“I’m right here, you know,” you muttered, shooting him a glance.

Luke chuckled, finally stepping into the kitchen. “Fine. But if I burn something, it’s on you.”

The three of you worked in an awkward sort of harmony—Kieran slicing vegetables with military precision, Luke fumbling with the stove controls, and you guiding them both with a mix of amusement and exasperation. Despite Luke’s earlier protests, he eventually started to take the task seriously, though his grumbling never entirely ceased.

When the food was finally done, you all sat at the kitchen table, the tension between you lightened by the mundane simplicity of the moment. For the first time in days, you felt a flicker of normalcy.

That sense of normalcy didn’t last long.

It was the middle of the night when you woke to a sharp, tightening pain low in your belly. You gasped, your hand flying to your stomach as panic set in. Was this it? Was she coming early? The room felt too warm, too quiet, and you called out instinctively.

“Luke? Kieran?”

The door flew open almost immediately, Kieran stepping inside first with his usual calm intensity. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his head scanning you quickly, assessing the situation.

Luke appeared behind him, looking far less composed. “Is it the baby?” he asked, his voice tight.

“I-I don’t know,” you stammered, your heart racing. “It hurt. I think… I think it’s starting.”

Luke grabbed his phone, muttering something about calling Sylus, while Kieran moved closer, crouching beside the bed. “Breathe,” he instructed, his tone steady but not unkind. “Tell me exactly what you’re feeling.”

You tried to describe the sensations, your words tumbling over each other as another wave of discomfort rolled through you. But just as quickly as it had started, the pain subsided, leaving you feeling exhausted and embarrassed.

“I don’t think it’s labor,” you said finally, your voice shaky. “Just… Braxton Hicks, maybe?”

“Braxton what?” Luke asked, still clutching his phone like a lifeline.

“False contractions,” Kieran supplied, his attention still on you. “It’s common.”

Luke groaned, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “I was scared shitless that I was about to deliver a baby” he muttered, though his voice carried more relief than frustration.

Despite the scare, you managed a faint smile. It was almost comical, seeing these two hardened boys thrown off balance by something so mundane.

The next day brought more excitement, though of an entirely different kind.

You were sitting in the living room when the house alarm blared, its piercing wail sending your heart racing. The twins appeared almost immediately, Kieran with a knife in hand and Luke wielding a gun.

“Stay here,” Kieran said sharply, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You nodded, clutching your belly as you watched them disappear down the hallway. Your mind raced with possibilities—an intruder, an attack, something that Sylus would undoubtedly be worried about. Minutes stretched into what felt like hours before the twins returned.

Kieran was carrying something in his arms—a small, scruffy cat. Its fur was matted, its eyes wide and curious as it squirmed in his grip.

“Seriously?” Luke muttered, silencing the alarm. “A damn cat?”

“It tripped the door sensor,” Kieran said evenly, though his grip on the animal suggested he wasn’t thrilled about the situation either.

You blinked at the sight, the absurdity of it cutting through your lingering fear. “So…no intruder?”

“Unless you count this thing,” Luke replied, gesturing at the cat.

Despite yourself, you laughed softly. “What are you going to do with it?”

Kieran looked down at the cat, then at you. “What do you want to do with it?”

For a moment, you considered keeping it. The idea of a companion, even a scruffy stray, was tempting. But the reality of your situation hit quickly, and you shook your head. “Let it go. It’s probably just lost.”

Kieran nodded, carrying the cat to the door and setting it outside. As he returned, Luke clapped his hands. “Well, that was the most excitement we’ve had all week.”

For once, you couldn’t disagree.

A week had passed, and the weight of your thoughts seemed to get heavier with each passing day. Sylus’s absence felt more oppressive than ever. Though he checked in regularly, his vague answers only left you with more questions. You could tell he wasn’t being completely honest with you, but there was little you could do about it. The twins were always around, their watchful eyes following you from a distance. It wasn’t comforting, but it was better than being completely alone.

You did your best to keep yourself occupied—books, music, TV, whatever you could to keep the crushing weight of your thoughts at bay. The daily walks outside helped too, though even those were becoming more difficult. Your belly was undeniably huge, the weight making even the simplest movements feel like monumental tasks. At 36 weeks, you were well into your ninth month, and the pressure on your body was relentless.

You had to grip Kieran or Luke’s shoulders sometimes to keep your balance, and even then, it felt like you might topple over at any moment. You could only mutter to yourself, “Just a few more weeks…” as you breathed in the cool air of the N109 Zone. The breeze hit your face, refreshing but fleeting, before it was replaced with the growing ache in your lower back.

Luke and Kieran were chatting behind you, laughing softly over some trivial conversation, both of them sipping cans of soda. It was funny they had to life their masks to do so. You didn’t want to slow them down, so you walked ahead, trying to ignore the heaviness in your belly and the increasing tightness in your abdomen. But just as you were about to wave them off, a sharp, searing pain shot through your lower stomach. Another Braxton Hicks contraction.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as your hand instinctively moved to your belly. The pain passed quickly, but the sensation left your heart racing. You turned to stop the twins but before you could get the words out, Luke collided into you from behind. The impact caused him to spill his entire can of soda all over the front of your shirt, a cold, sticky mess.

“Ah! Miss! I’m so, so sorry!” Luke’s voice cracked in panic, genuine shock evident in his movements. “I—uh, I didn’t mean to—”

Before you could respond, Luke’s hands were frantically pulling his coat off. “Here! Take it!” he said, draping it hastily over your shoulders in an attempt to hide your bra. “I—I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

You sighed, your voice strained but calm. “It’s alright, Luke. It was an accident. But I’d really appreciate a towel…I don’t feel like going all the way back into the house.”

“Yes, ma’am! Right away!” Luke practically sprinted back to the house, leaving Kieran standing behind you.

Kieran’s sharp gaze lingered on you, his expression unreadable as he watched you shift, trying to keep your composure despite the discomfort. “Are you okay?” he asked, his tone cautious but steady.

You nodded slowly, leaning against the statue in front of the house for support. “I’m fine. Just…a little uncomfortable. Nothing to worry about.”

Kieran didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he said nothing, hovering near you as if he was nervous. You absentmindedly slid your hand into the pocket of Luke’s coat, the fabric thick and warm against your cold skin. Your fingers brushed against something cold and metallic, and a strange jolt ran through you.

Wait. Is that...?

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. The shape was unmistakable, the hard, smooth surface of a handgun. Slowly, your fingers curled around its grip, the coolness of the metal biting into your skin as you pulled it out. The weapon was compact but weighty, its matte black finish glimmering as you turned it. The barrel was short and blunt, the kind of design meant for concealment and close quarters. It felt foreign in your hands, the ridges of the grip pressing into your palm like a warning.

The safety was off. You saw the small red dot near the trigger, glaring at you like a silent alarm, and the realization sent your heart into overdrive. This wasn’t a precautionary tool; it was ready to fire, lethal and unforgiving. A faint scratch along the slide spoke to use, the weapon far from pristine but well-maintained—a stark contrast to your trembling, inexperienced hands.

Your pulse spiked as you stared at it, your breath quickening. A faint smell of oil and metal clung to the gun, sharp and distinct, mingling with the earthy scent of the dirt around you. The weight of it felt heavier with every second, its presence as real and pressing as the danger it represented.

What the hell?

“Miss, put that down,” he said, his tone colder, sharper than you’d ever heard it before. His body immediately stiffened, his hands rising slowly in a placating gesture. His usually calm demeanor was replaced with something taut and tense, his gaze seemingly locked onto the weapon with unflinching precision.

“You don’t want to do this,” he added, his voice steady but carrying a note of urgency, as though he were trying to reason with a cornered animal.

But his words barely registered. The gun felt like a live wire in your hands, humming with possibilities both terrifying and exhilarating. For the first time in what felt like forever, you had control—real control—and the realization sent a jolt of adrenaline through your veins.

Your hand shook, but you held the weapon steady, pointing it directly at Kieran’s chest. “Stay back,” you warned, your voice trembling with raw fear. But there was something else in your chest—something fiercer, something that burned like a fire. This was your only chance.

Kieran’s expression hardened, his hands still raised, but his eyes flickered with hesitation. “Miss, please, don’t—”

“Shut up!” you screamed, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. You could feel the blood rushing in your ears, the adrenaline fueling every shaky breath you took. The gun felt heavy in your hands, but it was also the only thing that offered you control—control over this situation, over your own fate. “Move any closer and I’ll shoot.”

Kieran froze, his body clenched, clearly unsure of what to do. He took a small step back, his head darting between you and the weapon.

You heard footsteps approaching quickly, and you didn’t need to look to know that Luke was back with the towel. He entered the yard, his demeanor shifting to shock as he saw you holding the gun, pointing it at Kieran.

“Shit…Miss, just put it down. No one has to get hurt.” Luke’s voice was strained, full of disbelief as he held up his hands in surrender. “Please. Just…put it down.”

“I said stop!” you yelled, swinging the gun between the two of them. They both froze for a moment, their gazes locked on the trembling barrel, but then Luke gave a slight nod to Kieran. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there.

You watched, heart pounding, as they began moving again—slowly, cautiously, closing the distance between you step by step. “Stop! Stop moving!” you screamed, your voice growing more frantic, but they didn’t listen.

They won’t stop. They’re not afraid of you.

Panic surged in your chest as your mind raced. Think. Think. If the threat isn’t towards them…

Your breath caught as the realization hit you like a lightning bolt. But if it’s towards me and the baby…

Your hands trembled as you turned the gun, the cold barrel pressing against your temple. The metal felt like ice against your skin, grounding you in the chaos of the moment. The twins froze instantly, their expressions shifting from caution to shock.

“Move any closer, and I’ll shoot,” you said, your voice trembling but firm. The fear in their eyes mirrored your own, their hesitation palpable as they exchanged a quick, uncertain glance.

“Miss,” Luke began, his voice low and steady, though it wavered slightly, “I understand you’re upset, but this is no way to—”

“Shut up!” you screamed, your finger brushing the trigger. Your heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst, each beat echoing in your ears. “Don’t try to talk me down. Just move out of my way!”

For the first time, they stopped. Completely. The tension in the air was suffocating, their eyes glued to you as though you were a fragile bomb about to go off. And maybe you were.

This was your one chance, and you weren’t going to waste it. “Move,” you repeated, your voice shaking with desperation. “Move, or I swear I'll blow my brains right here.”

“Miss…the baby,” Luke began, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “Think of the baby. She deserves a chance to live at least, right? Just a few more weeks, maybe we can try and talk to Sylu—”

Before he could finish, you raised the gun and fired two sharp, deafening shots into the air. The sound shattered the quiet, echoing through the trees and startling birds into flight. Both twins flinched, their gazes snapping back to you with widened eyes.

“Out of the fucking way, Luke!” you shouted, your voice hoarse but unyielding. “I won’t ask again!”

Your hands trembled as you leveled the gun back toward your own head, the adrenaline pumping through your veins making your vision sharpen, your focus narrowing to the two figures in front of you. The raw power in your voice surprised even you, but you didn’t let yourself falter. Not now.

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The wind stilled, the trees silent, as if the earth itself was waiting to see what would happen next. Luke and Kieran exchanged a quick glance, their expressions unreadable but tense. It was Kieran who moved first, his hands still raised as he took a deliberate step to the side. Luke followed, his shoulders slumping slightly in defeat.

You didn’t wait to see if it was a trick. The second the path cleared, you bolted. Freedom felt so close you could taste it, and nothing—not the twins, not Sylus, not the aching weight of your belly—was going to stop you.

You dodged past them, your movements unsteady but fueled by sheer determination. The gun felt like an anchor in your hands, but you kept it close, your finger hovering over the trigger just in case. Each step felt like a small victory as you made your way toward the front gate.

“Miss, don’t—” Luke started to call after you, but his voice faded into the background, drowned out by the pounding of your heart.

The front gate loomed ahead, its black iron bars glinting in the sunlight. You reached it, your hands fumbling with the latch before swinging it open with a force you didn’t know you had. The hinges groaned in protest, but the gate gave way, and you stumbled forward onto the gravel road beyond.

Keep moving. The thought roared in your mind, drowning out everything else. You needed to find a car, something fast, something that could put as much distance between you and this nightmare as possible.

Your breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, your chest heaving as you pressed on. You didn’t even feel the strain of your belly anymore, the adrenaline numbing everything but your will to escape. The gravel crunched beneath your feet, each step carrying you farther and farther away.

The reality of your situation gnawed at the edges of your mind, but you shoved it aside. The twins would already be calling Sylus, alerting him to your escape. You had no illusions about how quickly he’d come after you. But for now, for this fleeting moment, you were free. The chains that had bound you—physically, emotionally, mentally—were broken, and the rush of it was almost overwhelming.

You glanced over your shoulder as you reached the end of the drive, half-expecting to see Kieran or Luke chasing after you. But they hadn’t moved from their spot by the gate, their figures still as statues as they watched you go. It was almost unnerving, the way they stood there, as though they were waiting for something.

But you didn’t have time to wonder what. You turned your gaze back to the road ahead, your mind racing with plans and possibilities. Get a car. Cover as much ground as possible. Don’t let this be like last time.

The thought burned in your mind like a mantra as you pushed forward into the eternal night once more, the taste of freedom bitter but intoxicating on your tongue. Whatever happened next, at least for this moment, you were free.

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