Trixie
The yard dissolved into chaos. Brothers spilled out of doorways and hallways, grabbing weapons, shouting positions, falling into formation with a discipline that spoke of far too many mornings like this.
And she stood frozen, not with fear, but with something far more dangerous.
She’d never felt it before—this sharp, crushing panic that wasn’t about her own life, but someone else’s.
Cyclops. If something happened to him out there—if he didn’t come back, she didn’t know what it would do to her.
And that terrified her more than the siren or the threat of her father’s men trying to breach the perimeter.
Ink sprinted past, barking orders she barely registered. “Venom—north gate! Razor, flank left! Spade—stop losing your damn gun, it’s a seven-pound piece of metal, how do you keep dropping it—”
“Inside!” he barked. “Now!”
She shook her head. “No. I’m not hiding while they’re out there.”
“Not a request,” Nick snapped. “Cyclops will skin me alive if I let you stand out here.” That did it. Not Nick’s bark, and not the command he’d given her. The mention of Cyclops was all she needed to hear to get her ass running for the door.
Nick slammed the reinforced door behind her. The hallway’s silence hit her like a punch to the gut. There was no shouting, no boots thumping down the hallway, and no deafening sirens. The only things she heard were the distant thud of footsteps outside and her own heartbeat pounding in her chest.
She forced herself deeper into the wing, pacing the short hallway like a caged animal.
Every instinct screamed at her to go after him.
To do something to help Cyclops and his men.
Running was familiar. Running was comfortable.
But running out there wouldn’t save Cyclops.
It would only distract him, and she wouldn’t do that to him.
Her legs buckled before she reached the end of the hall, and she caught herself against the wall, palms braced flat. “Get a grip,” she whispered. “He’s fine. He’s always fine.” But was he?
Her father didn’t send amateurs. He didn’t send idiots. His men were skilled. If he’d escalated twice already in less than twenty-four hours, then whatever was happening at the north gate wasn’t a small distraction.
She dragged in a shaky breath. “I shouldn’t have stayed with him.
I shouldn’t have made this worse.” That was another lie that she told herself.
She had tried running alone, and she knew exactly how that would end if she tried to run again.
Her father would have his way, and she’d be back in his house—or worse.
She pressed her forehead to the wall, squeezing her eyes shut. You’re not afraid of the men at the fence. You’re afraid of what happens if he doesn’t come back. The thought hit her again—harder this time, sinking straight into her chest like a weight she couldn’t lift.
She let someone in. She slept beside him. She wanted him—God, she still wanted him. And now he was out there, possibly bleeding from a fight she brought to his doorstep.
Her breath caught in her throat. A frantic, helpless sound clawed up from inside her.
Footsteps thundered toward the secure wing, and she spun so fast her vision blurred, her heart was in her throat.
The hall door slammed open, and Cyclops stormed in, his chest heaving, shirt half-untucked, and adrenaline still crackling off him like static.
Trixie’s knees nearly buckled with relief. He wasn’t bleeding. He wasn’t limping. He wasn’t dead. He was alive and coming straight toward her. “Trixie,” he breathed.
She didn’t think—didn’t hesitate. She ran to him, colliding with his chest. His arms snapped around her instantly, lifting her, anchoring her, crushing her against him like he needed proof she was real.
She gripped the back of his shirt, burying her face in the curve of his neck. “Are you okay?” he rasped, voice raw. She didn’t answer—she couldn’t. Not when she was trying to memorize the sound of his heartbeat under her ear.
“Talk to me,” he said, pulling back enough to look at her. “Trixie—are you hurt?”
She shook her head. “No. I—I just—God, Cyclops, I thought—” She cut herself off, slamming a hand over her mouth. She’d almost said it; almost admitted too much.
His eyes sharpened. “You thought what?”
“I thought that you wouldn’t come back,” she whispered. His breath caught. She shouldn’t have said it. She wanted to swallow the words back down. They made her vulnerable and exposed. She was bare in ways she hadn’t been—even last night.
Cyclops cupped her face with both hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I told you,” he said quietly. “If you need me, I'll come.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she said, voice shaking.
His jaw clenched. “Say what you mean.”
She shook her head violently. “I can’t.”
“Try,” he urged, “for me.”
Her chin trembled. “I don’t know what I’d do if you—if something happened to you.” The confession hung in the air—raw and impossible to take back.
Cyclops closed his eye, as if the words physically hit him. Then he pulled her into his body again, crushing her against his chest, one hand fisting in her hair. “You don’t have to know what you’d do,” he murmured against her temple. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”
Her breath shuddered out. “My father’s men didn’t breach the wall?” she asked.
“No.” His hands tightened around her. “They were testing us again. But they got a little too close, so Venom scared the shit out of them. But we’re okay.”
“You weren’t,” she whispered. “You were out there alone—”
“I was never alone.” He kissed her hairline. “You were right here.”
Her stomach twisted. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” he said. “And I know what you’re trying not to say.”
She jerked back, eyes wide. “Cyclops—”
He rested his forehead against hers. “You care about me.”
She shook her head. “No. No, I don’t. I can’t.”
“Yes,” he said, not cruel, just certain. “You do.” Her breath hitched again. “It’s okay if that scares you,” he murmured. “Hell, it scares me too.”
Her eyes burned. “I can’t lose you.”
He shrugged. “Then you won’t lose me,” he said simply.
“You can’t promise that,” she insisted.
He cupped her cheek with a rough palm. “Watch me.”
She swallowed, her throat tight. “I hate you a little for this.”
Cyclops gave her a half-smile. “That’s all right. You can hate me from right here.” He tightened his arms around her, holding her like he’d fight the whole damn world to keep her in them. And Trixie realized something that terrified her—she was already halfway his.