“Please, I’m not ready.” The tears fall faster. “Come back, I need you.”
I scan his face, looking for the slightest twitch, anything that would indicate he hears me, that he’s still in there somehow, fighting.
“Iz…” Noah steps forward. “He’s gone.”
I shake my head. “This can’t be happening.”
I gasp as my chest caves in. Dropping my head to his chest as my tears soak into the sheet.
“Please.”
“Isobel.” Luca’s voice breaks.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
Lifting my head, my eyes trace over every feature. Committing it to memory. I’m grasping at every detail. I don’t want to forget my last moments with him.
No matter how much it hurts.
My fingers run over his face, tracing the sidesof his face, my thumb brushing his cheeks again.Part of a cord sticks out around his neck. Reaching down, I free it from under his vest and shirt.
His Guild ring.
The tarnished silver is brushed. With a red stone that glitters from the center, even in the dim light. I undo the cord from his neck, clutching it tightly. Gentle hands move me back.
The stretcher’s wheels echo through the bay until it disappears entirely, and then it’s just us. The bay feels hollow without the sound of the stretcher wheels. I’m frozen in place, staring at the space where Tex was, willing it to be a nightmare I’m about to wake up from, when movement catches my eye.
Lucian steps out from one of the side corridors. He’s in combat gear, shirt untucked and smeared with dirt and streaks of blood. His hair’s a mess, and a shallow cut along his cheekbone is smudged with gunpowder and seeping blood.
He takes one look at me and stops cold. “Gracie.”
My name pulls me back just enough for the tears to blur again. I shake my head because I don’t have words. My chest feels too tight. I can’t get a full breath of air in. My hand squeezes around the pieces I have left of him.
He closes the distance in a few strides and pulls me into him without hesitation. His arms are strong, able to bear the weight I can’t. I press my face into his shoulder, the scent of everything we’ve just escaped still lingers on his shirt.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs against my hair.
His voice is rough, low. Not the commanding tone of the Guild’s leader, but the raw edge of a father who hates that his child is hurting.
My hand fists in the back of his shirt. “H-he’s dead,” I manage, my voice cracking in the middle. “There was so much I never got to?—”
“I know.” His hand cups the back of my head, holding me close. “He was one of ours. He mattered.”
I stay in his embrace. Long enough for my tears to soak into his shirt, for my legs to feel heavy. The weight of the night dragging me down.
When I finally pull back, Lucian’s eyes are softer than I’ve ever seen them, rimmed with something unspoken.
“You’ll carry him with you,” he says quietly. “We all will. But we keep moving. That’s how we honor him.”
I nod, but the words don’t feel real yet. Not with the echo of Tex’s voice still in my head. Not with the image of that white sheet being pulled up over his face burned into the back of my eyes.
Lucian’s hand stays on my shoulder as he turns us toward the lift. Jace appears at my side. Blood spatter on his neck, his hair mussed from the helmet, eyes shadowed. He doesn’t say anything at first, just glances between Lucian and me, then steps closer.
“I’ll take care of her,” Jace says, his voice strong despite everything.
Lucian studies him for a long moment, his expression unreadable but heavy with meaning. Finally, he gives a short nod. “See that you do.”
He looks to all of us, his voice taking on that commanding tone again. “Get checked out. Cleaned up. No arguments.” His gaze flicks back to me, softer. “You’re all done for tonight.”
