Chapter 59
Zane
The rain taps against the windows in soft, steady rhythms.
Ivy’s awake—really awake now. Sitting up, wrapped in a blanket. Her eyes move like she’s still trying to figure out if any of this is real.
Myles has barely left the room the past three days. Always sitting in the same corner, guarding her, sleeping when he can’t fight it anymore.
She hasn’t spoken much but that’s fine.
I’ve never needed words from her. Just this. Her, here with me, breathing softly.
How a girl so unassuming can carry so much trauma and darkness on her little shoulders is beyond me.
The smell of the rain on my skin might be a comfort to her right now but I don’t think she’s fully come out of her haze yet. And I’m worried about when she does.
Phoenix brushes her hair every day. Even braided it yesterday. I wanted to poke at him for it, try to lighten his mood. But I’m sure he remembers that day I teased him about it, and he’s not been coping well since we got her back. So I’ve kept my mouth shut.
“Where… where are we?” Ivy asks, voice clearer than ever.
Standing, I step forward slowly, careful not to startle her. “We’re back at the station, sweetheart. You’re safe,” I tell her gently, hoping she’s finally come back to us.
Her gaze flashes, panic lighting behind them like a spark to dry brush. “The station?”
I’ve hunted animals with the same look in their eyes. God help me, I can’t lose her again.
My throat’s tight as I raise my hands slowly, trying to calm her. “You’re okay. We found you and brought you back. You’ve been out of it for three days, but your injuries are healing well.”
I see the moment the memories hit her, something shattering behind her eyes. My fists clench by my sides, trying to stay composed for her.
“The barn,” she whispers. “They had me tied up… and Derek—I can’t—You can’t see me! Don’t look at me!” she shrieks, arms flying up to cover her face.
Her scream jolts Myles out of his sleep. “Ivy?”
“You’re not there anymore,” I say gently. “It’s over.”
But she’s spiralling now, blinking faster, hands shaking.
“No. No! I’m dirty,” she gasps, heaving for each breath. “You can’t look at me. I couldn’t stop them.”
Myles darts across the room, falling to his knees beside the bed. The door bangs open and Phoenix bursts into the room. Ivy flinches and draws her knees up, expression twisting as tears pour down her cheeks.
“Don’t touch me!” she cries, pulling away from Myles. “I’m filthy. I’m ruined.”
“Ivy—” Phoenix’s voice breaks as he rushes to her side. “Baby, what are you saying? You’re alive. You survived.”
Ivy’s trembling so hard the blanket slips off her shoulders.
I catch a glimpse of the marks on her wrists and my stomach knots, feet stuck in place.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she claws down her arms, nails scraping her skin as if she could peel off what happened. “Stop looking at me! I saw you!” she screams, sobbing. “In the barn. Phoenix shoved me back. Myles spat at me. Zane—” her eyes find mine, wide, wild.
The heartbreak in her expression guts me like seppuku. Holding my breath, I wait for her allegation.
But Ivy shakes her head as if she’s trying to dislodge the images. “You all watched. You let it happen.”
Her accusation cleaves me open. My jaw grinds until my teeth ache, because I’d rip out my own heart before I let her believe that of me.
“No,” Myles breathes, reaching for her again. “No, Ivy. We were never—”
But she’s rocking back and forth, staring into space, her hands ripping at her arms like she’s trying to break herself open. It makes my heartrate spike—I’d rather bleed myself dry than watch her hurt herself.
I cross the room in two steps. My fingers catch her forearms mid-scratch, purposely avoiding her bandaged wrists. “Stop,” I order, my voice hard. Her entire body jerks at the contact. “You’re safe,” I growl. “You’re safe with us.”
She fights me, weak but hysterical. Her nails scrape at my tense muscles, a faint sting. She’s so cold, but her pulse is as frantic as a tiny bird in my palm.
Phoenix jumps up onto the bed, gripping her shoulders, steady but firm, holding her against her own panic. Myles wraps his arms around her legs, stopping her from kicking.
“No one’s looking at you like that,” Phoenix says, voice a rough snarl. But under it I hear the tremor he tries to hide. “Not now. Not ever again.”
“You don’t understand,” Ivy sobs. “I’m not clean. They touched me. I’m not yours anymore—”
“Stop,” Myles cries, voice jagged as broken glass. “Don’t ever say that. Don’t you dare.”
His tone catches me off guard and I glance at him as his forehead drops to her thighs, shoulders shaking. But I see the shine of wetness on his cheeks before he buries his face deeper, trying to hide it.
My chest caves in on itself. She can’t see. She’s the only thing that’s ever felt like ours. And nothing will change that.
I tighten my grip on her, willing her to come back. “Look at me, Ivy.” She won’t at first, so I tilt her chin, gentle but unyielding. “We didn’t turn our backs on you. We killed every last one of them. You’ll never have to worry about them again.”
The words sear through my soul, but it’s the way she flinches, as if she doesn’t believe me, that nearly unravels me.
Phoenix leans in close, pressing his forehead against her temple. “We thought we lost you,” he growls, voice shaking. His hand slides to the side of her neck, fingers trembling as his thumb brushes over her throat.
“I was ready to burn the world to ash just to hold you again,” Phoenix confesses. “Nothing will keep us away from you.”
Her sobs stutter into hiccups, but her eyes dart between us, searching for the lie. “But Derek said… He said you didn’t want me. That you wanted me gone. Hated me…”
Goddamn it! If I could drag that bastard out of hell and kill him all over again, I would. Slower this time.
“Lies,” Myles bites out, head still buried in Ivy’s legs to hide his tears. “Every word. We were coming for you. We will always come for you.”
She shakes her head again, but weaker now, tears streaming silently down her face. “But they ruined me. You don’t want me,” she whispers. “I’m damaged—”
“No,” Phoenix cuts in, voice breaking but firm.
“You’re not ruined or damaged. You’re alive.
And still the only thing keeping us breathing.
We’ll always want you.” His fingers brush her hair back, slow and deliberate.
“You’re our heartbeat. That hasn’t changed.
We live for you, baby. You’re ours. Always. ”
He’s right. She’s the only rhythm in this wasteland of silence. Without her, I’d be nothing but the echo of a monster.
“Ours,” Myles echoes, lifting his head, voice a broken rasp.
“Even when I’m a selfish prick.” His grip tightens around her legs.
“Even when I don’t treat you how you deserve.
Even when I’m at my worst, Ivy, you’re still the only thing I can never destroy.
I’m yours and you’re mine.” His head drops to her thighs again as grief shreds his throat. “I love you, Ivy.”
Her hiccupping sobs stop, just for a heartbeat, like the sound has punctured her panic. And God help me, it feels like a miracle.
I press her hands flat to my chest so she can feel my heart hammering under her palms. “Feel that? I’ll love you till my dying breath, sweetheart,” I breathe, my voice low. A sacred vow whispered in reverence.
“You’re the only good thing left in me,” I say softly. Her eyes flick up to mine and I hold her gaze steady. “Nothing could ever ruin you for us, Ivy. It doesn’t matter where you came from or what you went through. The darkness you carry doesn’t make you shine any less brightly.”
Ivy’s breath hitches, lips parting but no sound coming out.
Finally her muscles relax. She’s still crying, but the edge of panic is dulling.
Phoenix pulls her closer, Myles still holding her legs, me bracing her wrists against my chest. All three of us closing around her like a living cage. Except this time, to protect, not trap.
“I love you,” Phoenix murmurs against her temple. “I should’ve told you sooner. My heart beats for you, Ivy. And I never thought I’d feel it pumping again. You have utterly reshaped my being. Every cell I have, only exists for you… because of you.”
Ivy’s breathing slows under the weight of us, her body softening, shuddering subsiding. “You’re not going to leave me?” she whispers.
“Never,” we say, almost in unison.
Phoenix eases his grip but keeps her tucked under his chin. Myles strokes her thigh like a man begging. I slide my hands down her arms, rubbing warmth back into them. She exhales a broken sound, slumping into us as she weeps.
The fight drains out of her, and she becomes limp. But it’s not the limpness of despair. It’s surrender. Trusting us with every part of her agony.
I bite down on my lip to stop the sob clawing its way out of me.
We stay like that for a long moment, the four of us breathing as one.
Rain drums on the window as her breath warms my throat. For the first time in days, I let my eyes close.
As I shift her gently back against the pillows, Phoenix wipes her tears with shaky fingers, then smooths her hair back down like it’s his duty. Myles tucks the blanket back around her legs, stroking them softly as if apologising for pinning them.
“You’re home,” I whisper. “We’ve got you.”