I sigh and close my eyes. Felix has always been my constant, my twin, my shadow, the only person who has seen every version of me and stayed.
But even as the comfort seeps in, another thought claws at the edges.
Roman.
Roman is strong. Smarter than all of them. Dangerous in ways they don’t fully comprehend. But the Founders built this world. They control the money, the loyalty, the bloodlines. They erase people without leaving fingerprints.
No one is more powerful than them.
And for the first time since this started, doubt coils in my stomach. Not about Roman’s love. Not about his promise. But whether love is enough to stand against men who think they are gods.
Felix reaches across the console and squeezes my hand.
“We’ll figure it out,” he says firmly. “You, me… and Roman.”
I nod. But as we turn onto his road, I can’t shake the feeling that we’ve just declared war on something far bigger than us. I knew it the second Father smiled. Happiness doesn’t survive in our world. It’s a flare, bright and reckless and beautiful, and then it’s gone. What Roman and I have… it was always on borrowed time with stolen mornings and stolen breath.
And the Founders don’t let anyone steal from them without collecting interest.
Maybe I should leave him before they make him pay for loving me. Before Father breaks him the way he’s tried to break me. Quinn would be safe for him. Exactly what his dad wants. Polished, obedient, and bred for legacy instead of war. She wouldn’t drag him into blood feuds and execution lists. She wouldn’t put a target on his back.
I swallow hard.
Maybe the truth is that real love, loving him, means letting him go.
CHAPTER 36
FAE
The door clicks shut behind us and I stand there, letting the quiet settle over my skin. Felix’s place used to feel like the guys. It was all clean lines and dark furniture that was laced with a faint scent of aftershave and gun oil that clung to everything they owned.
Now it’s softer around the edges.
There’s a pale pink hairbrush abandoned on the arm of the sofa. A can of hairspray half-hidden behind a lamp. A floral deodorant sitting beside their keys. The air smells different too. Not unpleasant, just layered. Sweet instead of sharp. Feminine over masculine.
Laughter has lived here recently.
You can feel it in the way the cushions are indented, in the second mug left on the coffee table. Its not bad. It just feels… strange. Like walking into a version of their life I wasn’t there to witness. Felix doesn’t seem to notice my pause. Or maybe he does and chooses not to comment. He brushes past me towards the kitchen and I follow, the sound of our footsteps brush against the carpet.
Victor is leaning back against the counter, his arms folded, his posture deceptively relaxed as Hazel stands next to him.
She looks… better.
Colour has returned to her cheeks. Her hair is clean and brushed. She’s wearing one of his jumpers, that is too large for her frame and there is still something fragile in the way she holds herself, like the warehouse is stitched permanently into her bones. Her eyes lift when we enter and a look of gratitude flickers there but as quickly as it appears, the shadow comes back twice as fast.
Iris stands beside her, quiet and watchful. She is one of Atlas’ promised and honestly, they are perfect for each other. They both carry a softness that is hard to find in this world and as she gives me a small, careful smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, it reminds me of him.
“Hey,” I say softly, because anything louder feels wrong.
“Hi.” Hazel swallows, her voice thin, but I hear the bravery underneath it and it makes my chest ache.
“You look… good,” I add and I mean it. She’s upright. She’s here. She’s alive.
“I’m trying,” Hazel’s lips twitch in an almost smile.
Iris steps forward and squeezes her hand in silent support as Victor walks over and drops a kiss on my cheek.
“Thanks,” he whispers in my ear but I’m not sure what he’s thanking me for.
