Chapter Thirty-one Kade
Morning light filtered through the window. I wake slowly. The wound throbs. Dull. Present. But manageable. Amethyst is still beside me. Better than yesterday. The bruises are fading. Her natural skin color is returning. Not fast enough. Never fast enough. But she’s healing.
Her breathing is even. Deep. Asleep. I don’t move.
Don’t want to wake her. Just watch. The rise and fall of her shoulders.
The curve of her spine. The bruises on her ribs.
Still visible. Yellow-green now. Fading.
But present. She shifts slightly. Her breath catches.
Small. Almost imperceptible. But I hear it.
Pain. The ribs. She settles again. Doesn’t wake.
I watch for another minute. Two.
Then carefully—
Very carefully—
I sit up. The wound protests. Sharp enough to stop me. I wait it out. Count the seconds. Then keep moving. The stitches hold. No tearing. No blood. Just—
Pain. Manageable pain.
I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. Stand. Slow. Controlled. The monitors beep. Steady. Rhythmic. Mocking. I ignore them. Walk to the window. Look out. Trees. Gray sky. The safe house grounds. Quiet. Isolated. Secure.
From down the hall, I hear it. Muffled. Distant. But unmistakable. Yelling.
Marcus.
“Let me out! You can’t keep me here! I didn’t—I didn’t do anything wrong!"
His voice. Desperate. Terrified. Pathetic.
I want to go to him. Make him understand. Make him see. I push it down. Not yet. Not until I’m cleared. Not until I can finish what needs finishing. The yelling continues.
“Amethyst! AMETHYST! Tell him the truth! You knew I loved you!"
My jaw clenches. Hands curl into fists. The wound pulls.
Sharp. Warning. I force myself to breathe.
Slow. Controlled. Save her. Like she was his to save.
Like she needed saving from me. The memory surfaces.
Sharp. Clear. Back at her apartment. When we captured him.
The way he looked at her. The way he talked.
“I wanted to take you away from all this," he’d said. “We can disappear."
Like she belonged to him. Like he had any claim to her. Like she was something he could take.
The rage builds. Hot. Immediate. Visceral.
She’s mine. Not his. Never his.
The monster in me agrees. Eager. Violent. Claim her in front of him. Make him watch. Make him choke on the truth. Then tear him apart. Slowly. Piece by piece. The thought is satisfying. Dark. But satisfying.
Behind me, I hear movement. The sheets rustle.
“Kade?"
Her voice. Sleep-rough. Soft.
I turn. She’s sitting up. Careful. Protecting the ribs. Her hair is messy. Eyes still heavy with sleep. Beautiful.
“Morning," I say.
She looks at me. Really looks. Assessing.
“How’s the wound?"
“Better."
“Better than yesterday?"
“Yes."
She nods. Satisfied. Swings her legs over the edge of the bed. Stands. Slower than she used to. The ribs still hurt. I can see it. The way she moves. Careful. Controlled. But better than a week ago. Much better.
“Your ribs?" I ask.
“Sore. But manageable."
She moves slowly testing the range of motion.
“Still tight. But improving."
Good. She’s healing. Faster than me. That thought—
It bothers me. More than it should. She’ll be ready to move. To fight. To return to the field. Long before I will. And I—
I need her close. Need to know where she is. What she’s doing. Who she’s with. The predator stirs. Restless. Possessive. Mine. Keep her close. Don’t let her leave. I push it down. Not now.
From down the hall, Marcus’s yelling starts again.
“Please! Someone! Anyone! I didn’t—I was trying to help!"
Amethyst’s expression doesn’t change. But I see it. The tension in her jaw. The way her eyes harden.
“He’s been doing that all morning," she says quietly.
“I heard. The Raven sedates him. But when it wears off—"
“He loses it."
“Yes."
Silence. Brief. Heavy.
“What did he say?" I ask.
“When you interrogated him?"
She looks at me. Steady.
“That he was saving me. From you. From what you are."
The rage flares. Hot. Immediate. Saving her. From me. Like I’m the threat. Like I’m what she needs protection from.
“He said he wanted to take me away," she continues. “Disappear. Start over."
“Like you belonged to him."
“Yes."
I turn away. Look out the window. Try to control it. The rage. The need.
The predator. It wants him. Wants him to see what was always there. What she chose. Who she chose.
“One more week,"
Amethyst says quietly. I look at her.
“What?"
“The Raven said one more week. Then you can see him."
“She told you that?"
“Yesterday. While you were sleeping."
One week. Seven days more. I feel like that’s all I hear.
But. One week. Then this all ends for him.
The Raven comes at noon. Right on schedule. Her daily check-in. She walks in. Closes the door behind her. Looks at both of us. Assessing. Professional.
“How are we feeling today?”
“Good.”
We both say at the same time. Raven looks us over one at a time then looks at me.
“Let me see."
I stand. Slow. Lift my shirt. She unwraps the bandages. Efficient. Practiced. Examines the wound. Presses gently around the edges. I don’t flinch. Don’t react.
“Both of you are doing well, but you both need to keep resting. No strenuous activity."
I glance at Amethyst. She’s trying not to smile. The Raven catches it. Raises an eyebrow. “I mean it. No. Strenuous. Activity."
“Understood," I say.
She doesn’t look convinced. But she lets it go.
“I have a question," I say.
She turns. Waits.
“Marcus. When can I see him?"
Her expression doesn’t change. But I see it. The calculation. The assessment.
“Not yet."
“When?"
“When you’re healed enough that you won’t tear your stitches."
“I can control myself."
“Can you?"
Silence. She knows the answer. So do I.
“One more week," she says finally.
“Then we’ll reassess. It might be less if you would stop acting like your invincible."
I ignore her comment. I might not be invincible but I’m not one to just lay about.
“And the cabin?" I ask.
She’s quiet. Thinking.
“What about it?"
“Can we go back there? To finish healing?"
It would be just us. It’ll be quiet. Isolated.
“You’d be further from medical support."
“We’d have phones. You could still reach us."
She considers. I can see her weighing it. Calculating.
“Jake is close to finding Enzo," she says finally. “When he does, you’ll need to move quickly."
“We will."
“Even if you’re not fully healed?"
“Yes."
She looks at Amethyst.
“And you?"
“I go where he goes," Amethyst says simply.
The Raven nods. Slow. Understanding.
“I’ll think about it," she says.
“Let me talk to Jake. See where we are with the search."
“Thank you."
She walks to the door. Pauses. Looks back.
“One more week," she says.
“Then we reassess. Everything."
The door closes behind her. Silence.
Just a little longer.
After a few more days I’m able to walk further. Down the hall. To the common area. Back. The wound protests. But it holds. No tearing. No blood. Progress. Slow. But progress.
Amethyst walks with me. Stays close. Not because I need help. But because she wants to. Because we both need this. The proximity. The contact. The confirmation that we’re both here. Both healing. Both alive.
We pass Room three. The door is closed. Locked. Silent. Marcus is sedated. For now. But I know he’s in there. Just beyond that door. Waiting. Terrified.
A few more days. Then I deal with him. I keep walking. Don’t stop. Don’t look at the door. Not yet.
When we return to the room, Amethyst sits at the small table. Pulls the folder toward her. The intelligence. The maps. The surveillance photos.
“Jake called this morning," she says.
I turn and face her.
“And?"
“Two more locations cleared. Nothing."
“How many left?"
“Two. Maybe three."
“How long?"
“Soon. Hopefully."
Soon, we’ll know where Enzo is. Then we move. Ready or not.
The thought makes the wound throb. Sharp. Immediate. I’m not ready. Not fully. But I will be. I have to be.
Two days later I wake before her. Watch her sleep. The way her breathing is deep. Even. Peaceful. The bruises on her ribs are fading. Yellow now. She’s healing. Fast. Faster than me. She shifts. Stretches. Careful. But easier than yesterday. Her eyes open. Find mine.
“Morning," she says.
“Morning."
She sits up. Swings her legs over the edge of the bed. Stands. Walks to the bathroom. No hesitation. No visible pain. Just—
Movement. Natural. Fluid. Almost normal. The predator watches. Satisfied. Possessive. She’s healing. Getting stronger. Still ours. When she returns, she’s dressed. Ready for the day.
“I’m going to work on the intel," she says. “Cross-reference the remaining locations with Enzo’s patterns."
“I’ll help."
“You should rest."
“I’ve been resting for days."
She looks at me. Assessing.
“Fine. But if the wound starts hurting—"
“I’ll stop."
She doesn’t look convinced. But she doesn’t argue. We work through the morning. Maps spread across the table. Surveillance photos. Digital files on her laptop. She’s methodical. Precise. Analyzing every detail. Every pattern.
I watch her work. The way she focuses. The way her mind processes information. Connects dots. Finds patterns others miss.
She’s brilliant. Deadly. Mine.
The thought makes the predator purr. Satisfied. Content.
From down the hall, I hear it. Yelling.
Marcus.
Again.
“You don’t understand! I was trying to help! I was trying to save her!"
The rage flares. Immediate. Hot. He thought he could take her. Thought he could claim her. Thought she was his.
I’ll show him. I’ll make him watch. Make him face the reality of what was never his. Then I’ll kill him..
I force myself to breathe. Slow. Controlled.
The predator settles. Patient. Waiting. Soon. Just a few more days. Then I show him. Then I finish it. Amethyst looks up. She heard it too. Marcus’s yelling.
“He’s getting worse," she says quietly.
“Good."
She studies me.
“What are you thinking?"
I look at her. Really look.
“That I want him to understand."
“Understand what?"
“That you’re mine. That you were never his. That he never had a chance."
Her expression doesn’t change. Doesn’t flinch.
“I am," she says simply.
“I know."
“But you want him to know it too."
“Yes."
She nods. Slow. Understanding.
“A few more days," she says.
“Yes."
“Then we finish it."
“All of it."
The Raven comes again. She examines the wound. Presses around the edges. Tests the stitches.
“It’s healing well," she says. “Better than expected."
“When can I see Marcus?"
She looks at me. Steady. Assessing.
“Soon."
“How soon?"
“A few more days. Maybe less."
“I can control myself."
“Can you?"
Silence. She knows. Knows what I want to do. What the predator wants.
“He’s terrified," she says.
“Knows you’re here. Knows you’re healing. Knows what’s coming."
Good. Let him be terrified.
“Three more days," she says finally.
“Then we’ll see."
Three days. Seventy-two hours. I can wait. The predator can wait. We’ve waited this long.
After she leaves, I bring it up again. The cabin.
“I want to go back," I say.
Amethyst looks up from the laptop.
“To where?"
“To the cabin."
“Why?"
“Because I need you close. And there—there it’s just us. No one else. No distractions."
She’s quiet. Thinking.
“We’d be isolated," she says.
“Yes."
“Further from support."
“We’d have phones. Jake can reach us if he finds Enzo."
“And if he finds him before you’re ready?"
“Then we move anyway."
She studies me.
“You’re worried," she says quietly.
“About what?"
“About me healing faster than you."
I don’t answer. Don’t need to. She sees it. Knows it.
“I’m not leaving you behind," she says.
“You might not have a choice."
“I do. And I’m choosing to stay with you."
“Even if it means waiting?"
“Even then."
The predator settles. Satisfied. Reassured. She stays. That’s enough.
I reach across the table. Take her hand. Her fingers curl around mine. Warm. Real. Grounding.
“Thank you," I say quietly.
“For what?"
“For staying."
“Where else would I go?"
Nowhere. She has nowhere else. And neither do I. We’re all we have. All we need.
The next day I’m moving better. The wound still hurts. But it’s manageable. Background noise. I can walk without wincing. Can stand without the sharp pull. Can breathe without the constant reminder. Progress. Real progress. Amethyst notices.
“You’re moving easier," she says.
“Yes."
“The pain?"
“Still there. But better."
She nods. Satisfied. We’re in the common area. She’s on the couch. Laptop open. Working through the intel. I’m at the window. Looking out. Thinking. About Marcus. About what I want to do.
Thee rage builds. Slow.
Two more days. Then this ends.
Behind me, Amethyst closes the laptop.
“Jake called," she says.
I turn towards her. Looking at her waiting for her to continue. Fuck shes beautiful.
“One more location cleared. Nothing."
“How many left?"
“One. Maybe two."
“When?"
“Tomorrow. Day after at most."
Soon. Very soon. Everything is converging. Marcus. Enzo. The end.
The Raven comes early the following morning. She examines the wound, tests the stitches. Presses around the edges.
“It’s healing well," she says. “Very well."
“When?" I ask.
She knows what I’m asking.
“Tomorrow," she says. “You can see Marcus tomorrow."
Tomorrow. Twenty-four hours. The predator surges. Eager. Hungry. Violent. Tomorrow. “Conditions?" I ask.
“You don’t tear your stitches."
“What about killing him?"
“After you get what you need from him. Information about Enzo. Anything he knows."
“And then?"
“Then he’s yours to take care of."
Good. Perfect.
“One more thing," she says.
I wait.
“The cabin. You can go. After Marcus. After you’re cleared."
Relief. Immediate. Overwhelming.
“Thank you."
She nods. Walks to the door. Pauses. Looks back.
“Tomorrow," she says. “Be ready."
The door closes. Silence. I look at Amethyst. She’s watching me.
“Tomorrow," she says.
“Yes."
“Are you ready?"
Am I? Ready to face him? Ready to show him the truth?
Yes. I’m ready. The predator is ready. We’ve been waiting for this. Planning for this.
“Yes," I say.
She nods. Stands. Walks to me. Stops in front of me. Close. Her hand touches my chest. Light. Careful. Over the wound.
“Whatever you need to do," she says quietly. “I’m with you."
I cover her hand with mine. Hold it there. Over my heart. Over the wound.
“I need him to see." I say.
“He will."
“I need—"
I stop. Can’t finish. She knows anyway.
“I know," she says.
“Are you sure? You think you can handle what I want—no need to show him. To make him understand how much you are mine?”
“Yes,” She says. “I am here through and through. I am not backing out. We will show him.”
I pull her closer. Careful. Mindful of the wound. Of her ribs. She comes willingly. Wraps her arms around me. Gentle. Grounding. We stand there. Just holding each other. For a long moment.
Tomorrow he learns. Then Marcus is over. Enzo is next. And after that.
It’s just us.
Finally.