Chapter 22 Ethan
ETHAN
The fire crackles behind me, filling the room with a steady warmth, but it does nothing to touch the cold sinking into my chest. My fists clench at my sides as I watch Brodie kneel beside Sophie, his movements careful, deliberate.
Too slow. I know he’s being as gentle as possible, but every second that ticks by feels like a lifetime.
Her skin is too pale, her breathing too shallow. The sight of her lying there like this makes my stomach twist, a primal fear clawing up my throat.
She should be fighting. Snapping at me. Arguing about something just to piss me off. Not lying here, unmoving, like a flame on the verge of going out.
Brodie strips off his shirt, then his pants, before sliding under the blankets with her. My Alpha bristles, a sharp growl rising in my chest before I swallow it down. Fuck. I know why he’s doing it. It’s the fastest way to get heat back into her body, to keep her from slipping further.
But that logic does nothing to stop the possessive rage scraping against my ribs, the need to be the one holding her, keeping her warm, making sure she survives this.
Tyler moves swiftly, layering more blankets over them, his face set in tight, worried lines. “She’s still too cold,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.
He snatches up his phone, dialing with shaking hands. I strain to listen, catching only fragments of the conversation.
“No one can get through the storm?” Tyler’s voice sharpens, his frustration mounting. “What about air support? Damn it, okay. What do we do in the meantime?”
I watch as he nods grimly, his fingers tightening around the phone. “Monitor her breathing. Keep her warm. Check for responsiveness. Got it.”
When he hangs up, his expression is tight, controlled—but I see the fear just beneath the surface. “They’ll try to get here as soon as they can, but we’re on our own for now.”
The weight of those words settles over the room, thick and suffocating.
I step closer to the hearth, adding more logs to the fire, watching as the flames lick higher. It’s something to do with my hands, something to keep me from looking at her and feeling the helplessness threatening to drag me under.
Tyler pulls a chair closer, his usual cocky smirk nowhere to be found. Brodie stays where he is, whispering something against Sophie’s temple, his arms locked around her like he’s afraid she’ll disappear.
The silence stretches between us, broken only by the wind howling against the windows. It’s not just the storm raging outside. I can feel it in my chest—a relentless, gnawing fear that won’t let go.
Tyler is the first to speak. “She’s going to be okay, Ethan.”
I don’t answer right away. My jaw clenches as I stare into the fire. “She has to be.” The words come out rough, raw. “I never stopped loving her, you know.” My throat tightens, but I force the words out. “Even when she left. It’s like she took a piece of me with her.”
Tyler watches me, his usual easy confidence replaced with something quieter. “Then why the hell does it feel like you’re pushing her away all the time?”
My head snaps up, and for a second, I want to argue. I want to tell him he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. But the way he looks at me—the way he sees me—makes the words die in my throat.
He shifts, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.
“Look, man. I know what it’s like to lose everything.
To feel like you’re not enough. My mom left when I was a kid.
My dad…” His laugh is bitter, hollow. “He wasn’t exactly Father of the Year.
One night, he nearly beat me to death, then ran off before the cops could get to him.
I was still a kid, and suddenly, I had to figure out how to survive on my own. ”
I clench my jaw, the words hitting me hard. Tyler never talks about this. He never lets people see beneath the surface.
“And you rebuilt yourself,” I say, my voice quieter now.
Tyler nods. “I had to. But Sophie? She makes me want to be better—not just for her, but for me too.”
I glance at Brodie, still curled protectively around Sophie, his face unreadable. When he finally looks up, his grip on her tightens. “We’re all here for her,” he says, his voice steady. “But we have to figure out how to be here for each other too.”
The words settle in my chest like a slow-burning ember. They aren’t wrong. We’ve been circling around something bigger than any of us. Fighting for her. Fighting the years between each other.
I let out a slow breath. “I don’t know if I can do this,” I admit, the words scraping against my throat. “But I’ll try.”
Tyler smirks, the usual cockiness slipping back into his expression, but his voice is softer. “That’s all we can do, man.”
A soft sound pulls our attention, but it’s just the wind rattling the windows. Sophie doesn’t stir. Doesn’t react.
Brodie lets out a breath, his voice barely more than a whisper. “She’s strong. She’s going to make it.”
I watch the fire, my hands fisting at my sides. She has to.
The room is heavy with unspoken things, with everything we’ve been too stubborn or too afraid to say. The fire crackles, the storm rages, and something shifts between the three of us.
We’re not just fighting for her.
We’re fighting for us.
And softly, quietly in my heart, I let myself believe we might actually have a chance.