Chapter 30
Phoenix
Zane and Ivy have steered clear of Myles since this morning. Something I ordered.
Finding out she escaped the skin trade explains her behaviour. The first thing you’d hope to end when society crumbles is the very thing that flourishes now.
Guess it makes sense. Only the ruthless survived. Since the population dropped so drastically in the chaos during the first year, the most desired resource wasn’t fuel or food. It was women.
She’s been through hell so of course our treatment seemed kind. We’re the lesser evil. We haven’t been good to her, but she’s snatched every opportunity like a fox in a henhouse.
I hate to admit it, but I feel guilty. She’s been manipulative, but so was I. And what choice did she have? She needed our help, and we didn’t notice.
Obviously I was right—Ivy is the ultimate liability. But somewhere in the past few days, I started seeing her as something I needed to protect. We need to protect.
How did it all get so out of hand?
We’re still struggling with our jealousy over Ivy’s attention—even though Zane and I have come to some kind of agreement now. With no laws left, what’s stopping us from removing the competition?
In Zane’s case, I know he thinks he owes us his life. And I’ve mastered control of my emotions and impulses, vowing to protect my brothers, even from themselves.
But Myles… he’s a wildcard. Unpredictable. Ruled by irrational emotion.
He would, without a doubt, kill us in our sleep.
I’ve let him do whatever he wanted for too long. It’s time to rein him back in and keep the leash tight until he can be trusted again.
And if I can’t, our group will tear apart at the seams.
I find him in the weapons room, shirtless and seething, surrounded by the mess he made.
Ammo is scattered across the table, a broken lamp on the floor, half a chair kicked to shit.
Breathing like he’s ready to spit fire, he reloads a rifle he doesn’t need. His lip is bleeding again, shoulders tense.
His knuckles are bloody—probably from punching one of these concrete walls. Self-inflicted pain. Trying to burn out his rage and maybe also stop himself from killing us.
He hasn’t even noticed I’m here yet.
Perfect.
I lean against the doorway, folding my arms across my chest to hide the tremble in my fingers. “Always playing the soldier. But not an ounce of the self-control we were taught,” I say calmly.
Myles freezes for half a second before he turns, eyes darkened in the dim light. There’s something manic in him. Completely unhinged.
“You’ve got some fucking nerve coming in here after interfering,” he growls.
Good. Let’s get into it.
I step inside calmly. “You wanna talk about interfering? You grabbed her like a rabid dog last week. You think that made you a hero?” I retort.
He shoves the rifle aside. “I stopped you from fucking her! You let her out of the cell just to sweeten her up.”
I grind my teeth. He’s not wrong and that makes my guilt rise like bile.
He slams his fist on the table, clearly not finished. “You act so noble, but you buried your fingers in her like she was free for the taking. Snuck behind my back just like Zane—worse! You actually tried to fuck her!”
“You think I need your permission?” I chuckle without humour, approaching him. “She’s not your property, Myles.”
His nostrils flare, lip pulling up in a snarl. “The fuck she isn’t.”
There it is.
All his old wounds from the foster system. I thought he’d put this shit behind him. But maybe there was just nothing triggering it.
I stop just short of him, close enough to feel the heat coming off his chest. “You might’ve been the one who found her. But you locked her in a fucking cell, treated her like someone dangerous—”
“Because she is,” he snaps, pushing me back. “We didn’t know her. Girls like that…”
“Don’t,” I cut in, voice tight. “Don’t even finish that sentence.”
His jaw flexes, but I’m not done. Not even close. He needs a major wake-up call. And I know just what’ll do it.
I sit on the edge of the table and let out a heavy sigh. “Ivy was a prisoner before we found her.” I keep my voice measured, even as the knowledge rots in my gut. “You want the truth?”
Staring at him, I wait until his breathing slows a fraction. “Zane told me everything—the kind of shit that makes you want to rip your own skin off just for breathing near her.”
Myles blinks, thrown. “What are you—”
“She was trafficked, Myles. Traded.” I let the words hit him. Let them echo as they sour on my tongue.
I watch as he stills, breath held like he’s frozen.
“She was sold to some sick cult leader to join his ‘wives’. Kept for two fucking years by men who passed her around like meat. That's why she flinched every time we looked at her too long. Why she hasn’t tried to escape that cell. She's done this before.”
Myles steps back like I shot him, colour draining from his face as if the bullet is lodged in his gut.
So I stand up and step into him again, intent on driving my point home. “And then… you know what she told me this morning?” I narrow my eyes as his widen. “That you were going to carve your fucking name into her skin with that knife.”
His mouth opens, but no sound comes out.
“Do you have any fucking idea what it felt like when Zane kicked down that door, and I saw you on top of her? Knife, in your hand!” My voice climbs as the memory flashes through my mind.
“And her… naked and crying on your bedroom floor. You wanna know what I thought I was walking into?” My voice shakes with rage now.
He backs up again but I follow him. “I thought you were trying to fucking kill her! I thought you’d fully lost it. ”
“I wasn’t—” his voice cracks, thin and pathetic.
“You think that matters?” I snap. “You think intention counts for shit when she was lying there, bracing for another man to mark her body like livestock? Jesus, Myles.”
He stares at me, wide-eyed and shaken. “She never told me any of that. I… I didn’t know…” His voice breaks, the truth shattering his shell.
“She didn’t tell you because she doesn’t feel safe with you!
” I shout. “She didn’t tell any of us. And she shouldn’t have had to.
We should’ve seen it. Her silence. Her compliance.
How she stayed in that damn cell without protest. Even the bargaining.
” I clench my fists, trying to rein in this rare outburst. “You wanna talk about ‘girls like that’, Myles? Girls like that have faced constant danger their entire lives. And this morning? You were another fucking threat!”
Myles backs up a step, like he can outrun the words. He’s breathing hard now, chest rising and falling as he realises what he’s done. “Phoenix… I… I tried to…” he trails off, voice hollow with a grief he doesn’t know how to express.
He can’t even say it. Good. Let it burn inside him.
“It doesn’t matter what you were trying to do,” I snap. “None of that fucking matters now. Someone out there still wants her.”
I turn away, breathing harshly as I search for the control I let slip through my fingers. My chest is tight and there’s a lump in my throat making it hard to swallow.
What’s happening to me?
She’s ripping through every restraint I’ve meticulously built. Myles and I may throw punches, but I’m never emotionally invested. Not like this.
I swallow hard and take a deep breath before I force myself to continue. “Zane said he thinks there’s still guys out looking for her. So you need to get your fucking shit together. Stop fighting against us and fight beside us.”
Myles growls, finding a feeling he’s comfortable with. “If someone gets a hold of her—”
“They won’t,” I cut in, whipping around to face him. “Because she’s not going back in that fucking cell.”
His head snaps up. “What?”
“You heard me. She's not a prisoner. Not anymore.”
“The cell is the safest place for her! You don't get to make that call,” he scowls.
“Yes. I do,” I deadpan. “I'm the leader for a reason and I have logic behind my decision. We’re not gonna treat her like a pet that needs to be caged when she wanders too far.”
His fists curl at his sides. “You were the first to call her a pet! You don't get to just—”
“Enough,” my voice drops low, blunt. “The decision is made. We’ll keep her and protect her, and we’ll keep a close eye on her but she won’t be sleeping in that cell anymore.”
“Oh, so, you think she’s yours now? Had a little taste and wanna claim her for yourself? I fucking knew it!” His possessiveness flares again.
Too bad. I’ve seen behind his roaring flame. This isn’t just possessiveness. It’s panic. Regret. He’s spiralling.
I can match that without losing control. Where he’s volatile, I’m composed. I’m in control. I have to be.
Harnessing that feeling, I speak clearly. “You don't get to decide what you share with me. What's yours is mine, Myles. Remember? And yes, I have a taste for your precious little stray now. And I want more.”
His lips curl back like he's going to say something cruel, but I don't give him the chance. Shoving him hard into the wall, he grunts but doesn't fight me. I press my body into him, hand fisting his hair, the need for dominance simmering under my skin.
“Have you forgotten who you belong to? You think I forgot what you taste like?” I whisper, close to his ear. “You think it didn't fuck with me when you stopped crawling into my bed? Like she erased everything we had?”
Myles doesn't answer but his breath comes hard and fast, chest rising against mine. His eyes gleam with something conflicted. He knows I’m not going to let him off easy. Not this time.
Yanking his head back a little further, just enough to bare his throat, I press my forefinger under his jaw.
“I own you,” I growl. “You want to stake a claim on her? Then you remember who claimed you first.”
That does it.
He snarls and lunges for me, crashing his mouth against mine, rough and demanding. Angry but full of desire.
Myles never could resist the way I knock him back in his place and loves to give me reason to do just that.
Such a brat.