Chapter 21 One For All
The antiseptic tang of the recovery wing clings to the back of my throat as I step inside. Everything is too white. Too sterile. Too quiet. Except for the steady beep of machines.
Luca looks smaller in the hospital bed.
Pale. Hooked up to wires and monitors, a thick bandage wrapped around his side, stained faintly where they went in. His curls are a tousled mess on the pillow, darker than usual against his sickly skin.
But he’s breathing. Alive.
Tex is sitting near the bed, arms crossed but eyes soft. Noah perched at the windowsill with his ever-present tablet, typing something out—but even he looks up as I walk in. Both nod at me in silent greeting.
Jace stands at the far wall. His eyes meet mine for a single second before flicking away like I’m nothing more than dirt under his shoe.
The frost is back. The cold prince taking up his mantle once again. The kindness he showed after the convoy mission has iced over.
No one says a word. I move toward the side of the bed and look down at Luca. “Hey,” I whisper, voice rough. “You didn’t die. Good.”
His lips twitch. Barely. But it was there.
“You sound disappointed,” he murmurs, voice hoarse and weak, but laced with that same lazy charm. “Was hoping to collect on my dramatic death speech?”
Tex snorts, and even Noah cracks a smile.
I sit on the edge of the chair beside him, trying not to let my emotions show. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Didn’t mean to.” He coughs, wincing. “But… thanks. For not letting me bleed out on top of a moving truck.”
Jace shifts by the window, the scrape of his boot on the tile loud in the quiet room. He doesn’t look at me but I can feel the chill coming off him.
Whatever fragile understanding we built has shattered. Again. He sees me as a pest. A problem he needs to solve. And currently I’m invading his space with his friends.
Tex stands, giving Luca’s ankle a light pat. “We’ll give you two a minute,” he says, nodding to me then Noah before nudging Jace toward the door.
Jace doesn’t move. Not until Noah gives him a look.
“Let’s go. He doesn’t need your scowling to interrupt his flirting.” Noah pulls at him again.
Jace doesn’t move. Noah tugs hard and he follows. The door clicking softly behind them, and just like that, we are alone.
For a moment, we just sit in the silence. The monitors beep, steady and slow, a reminder that time hasn’t stopped even if it feels like it should have. I fold my arms across my stomach, not knowing what to do with my hands. Luca watches me with tired eyes, half-lidded but still sharp underneath.
“You’ve been quiet.”
I shrug. “Just… processing.”
“They told me they told you, about Daniel.”
I don’t respond. I’m not sure I can.
Luca shifts slightly, sucking in a sharp breath when the movement no doubt tugs at his stitches. “You don’t have to sit here, you know. I’m not going to die now. Boring part’s over.”
“I want to,” I say.
“You saved my life.” He smiles.
“Don’t get used to it.” I sit back in the chair.
“Thank you.” No grin, no smugness, no charm. Just sincerity in his face, bare and unguarded.
My brain short circuits. I think I’m in shock.
“I mean it, you don’t owe me anything.” He shrugs then winces. “Hell, I wouldn’t have even blamed you if you didn’t do anything. I mean, it’s not like we were the welcoming committee when you arrived.”
“You really think I’d just let you get stabbed?”
He shrugs. His eyes drop to his hands, fingers picking at the edge of his blanket. “You know my dad left when I was a kid?”
I blink. “Really?”
He nods. “He couldn’t take the pressure, didn’t want to be a Silvain anymore. So, my mom raised me.”
“Oh.”
“She taught me how to smile the right way, how to pick out the right suit. How to work the charm my father gave me.”
I didn’t expect that.
Luca tilts his head toward me. “And then she died. Heart failure, they said. I thought it was all the lies she weaved. You learn fast how quickly people close doors when you stop being useful.”
I swallow, throat tight. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugs with a weak smile. “Don’t be. It taught me how to smile through hunger. How to turn charm into a weapon. And eventually, the Guild notices, and with my last name. I belonged.”
A beat passes. Then another. His voice drops low, almost hesitant. “I didn’t come to Blackmoore to play dress-up with the elite. I came to make sure I never ended up powerless again.”
That hits something in me.
Because isn’t that why I’m here too?
To reclaim the power I was denied. To never feel helpless again.
I lean forward a little, meeting his gaze. “You’re not as shallow as you pretend to be.”
His smile is soft now. Sad. “Don’t ruin my reputation.”
I hesitate. Then reach out and curl my fingers lightly around his wrist, right below the IV line. His skin is warm.
“You scared me,” I whisper.
“You… stayed.”
“I did.”
Luca blinks at me, something unspoken passing between us. Something real.
“I knew you were in love with me.” He winks.
I roll my eyes and stand, stepping closer to the bed. “Rest, Luca.”
“You’ll be around?”
“If you need me.”
“I think I do.” And he doesn’t say it to charm me.
“I’m so glad you’re okay.” Dakota hugs me as soon as I open my door.
I hug her back and breathe in her familiar scent.
“I’m okay. Luca’s the one who got stabbed. My bruises will heal.” I close the door behind her and lock it.
She flips on the coffee machine and starts making coffee for us.
“How is he doing?”
“He’s good, still just as flirty as always.”
“Well at least there’s that.” She scoffs.
We wait silently as the machine beeps, signaling that coffee is ready.
I sit on the couch with my mug, and Dakota sits next to me.
“We really haven’t talked since the pictures…” Her voice is small.
I hesitate a moment and take a long sip of my coffee. “I’m sorry, I just… needed time,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “After the photos, after all of it, I didn’t want to see anyone. Didn’t want anyone seeing me.”
Her expression softens immediately, the tension in her shoulders bleeding away. “I figured that might be it. I would’ve holed up too.”
I nod. “It wasn’t just embarrassing. It—” I cut myself off, forcing the rest down. “It cracked something in me. I’ve been trying to piece it back together.”
Dakota shifts closer, offering me a candy bag she’s pulled out of her pocket. I take one so she doesn’t worry.
“I get it,” she says after a beat. “I wish I could’ve done more. I should’ve ripped those bastards apart.”
“You’ve done enough,” I say quietly. “Really. I just needed space to… recover.”
“And now?” she asks, watching me. “You back?”
“Trying to be.” I give a small, tired smile.
She flops back onto the couch with a sigh, her voice muffled by a throw pillow. “Good. Because if I have to keep pretending to be interested in Brynn’s conspiracy theories alone, I might actually snap.”
I laugh—really laugh this time. It feels like a bruise being pressed, but at least it’s real.
“Deal,” I say. “You bring the sarcasm, I’ll bring the snacks.”
“I’ll owe you.”
“You already do.”
I lean my head back against the couch, closing my eyes for a second. Just taking in this moment with my sister. Maeve has always been a sister, but now I have another.
Dakota sits up again after a moment, hugging a pillow to her chest, observing me. The laughter is gone from her eyes now, replaced with something softer. Hesitant.
“Iz,” she says, her voice quieter. “Can I ask you something?”
I nod slowly. “Yeah. What’s up?”
She picks at the seam of the pillow for a second before speaking. “Those photos. From… you know. I heard rumors. Everyone’s been saying awful things—half of them don’t even know what they’re talking about. But I didn’t want to listen to any of it. I wanted to hear it from you.”
My throat tightens. The room suddenly feels smaller.
Dakota doesn’t push. She just looks at me like she’s trying to leave the door open, not force me through it.
I stare at the floor. “It was real,” I say, barely above a whisper. “That was me. And it wasn’t a fall, or a fight I picked, or whatever version of events they’re telling themselves to make it easier to swallow.”
She nods, slowly. “Okay.”
“I don’t want to talk about what happened,” I add, my voice sharper than I mean it to be. “Not yet. Maybe not ever. But… just know that it’s real. And they had no right to invade my privacy like that.”
Dakota’s eyes glisten a little, and she nods again, more firmly this time.
“They’re disgusting,” she says. “All of them. What they did… it’s not just bullying. It’s evil.”
I blink hard, jaw tight. “Yeah.”
She reaches over and puts a hand on mine, just a light touch. “You don’t have to tell me anything, Iz. Just… don’t shut me out again. Please.”
“I’ll try,” I whisper. “I’m just figuring out how to be again.”
“I’ll help you,” Dakota says, her voice quiet.
And for a few minutes, we just sit there—no jokes, no jabs, no pretending. Just quiet understanding in the space between us.
Suddenly, she lights up like a sparkler and shoots upright. “Wait! Has anyone told you about the Halloween dance?”
I blink. “The what?”
“Oh my god, Isobel. You seriously don’t know?”
I shake my head, and she gasps. “Okay. Blackmoore throws a huge Halloween masquerade every year—like, over-the-top decorations, dramatic lighting, illusions, maybe a DJ, maybe a string quartet depending on the mood. It’s the one time the school pretends we’re normal kids.”
I arch a brow. “Sounds… dramatic.”
“Exactly!” Dakota grins. “And this year’s theme is Masquerade of Monsters. Think gothic, think eerie glam, think big. Everyone dresses up.”
I sip my coffee. “That sounds cool.”
“You’re definitely coming with me. I don’t care if I have to drag you in bedsheets and call you a ghost.”
A quiet laugh escapes despite myself. “I don’t even have a costume.”
She waves that off. “That’s what shopping is for.”
I tilt my head, watching her. “Why do you care if I go?”