Page 124 of The Endless Want

“No? Then why were you not protected properly? Why were you sent out on a recon mission when you should have been hidden away like a treasure? Why was your convoy so small? Why did they let you get taken?”

The room feels colder, even though I know it’s just the panic rising under my ribs.

“That wasn’t their fault,” I choke out.

“No,” he agrees lightly. “It was yours. For trusting men who treat you as a pawn and not a partner.”

The words echo in the darkness. He wants me to question everything—my loyalty, my judgment, Declan’s flaws, Liam’s decisions. It’s a psychological squeeze, not a physical one. But sometimes the invisible cages are harder to break.

“You’re trying to twist me,” I say.

“I’m offering clarity.”

“You’re lying.”

He pauses. Then he crouches again so close I can feel his breath on my cheek.

“We have all the time in the world, Ailish.” His voice softens, coaxing instead of cruel. “And you are not steel. Not yet.”

He stands and steps away. The door opens. His footsteps fade. Then the door closes, locking me into silence again.

I exhale shakily.

He’s wrong.

I am steel.

But even steel can be shaped if the pressure is applied slowly enough, carefully enough, over enough time. And that scares me more than threats or darkness or the blindfold digging into my skin.

I stretch my legs, roll my shoulders, breathe in through my nose. The baby gives a small, reassuring push against my palm. That movement is enough to pull me back from the edge.

I lean my head against the wall behind me and imagine Liam’s face—steady, calculating, furious. I imagine Mackenzie cursing like the devil while loading a gun. I imagine Nadia sharpening a knife with the kind of silent, feral devotion only she carries. And most of all, I imagine Declan’s eyes when he realizes I’m gone.

The raw, unfiltered love he’s too afraid to name.

I breathe with that image in my chest.

And I wait for him to come.

I am steel.

I am steel.

I am steel.

“Declan,” I whisper. “Please. Hurry.”

CHAPTER 37

Declan

The world feels too quiet without her voice in it.

The convoy is long gone. The bodies have been moved. The blood on the asphalt has dried into a ruined map of everything I didn’t reach in time.

I stand where the vans disappeared hours ago, fists clenched so tightly my knuckles ache, and all I can hear is the faint echo of her scream trapped somewhere inside my skull. It repeats every time I blink. It sharpens each breath until breathing becomes a punishment.

Liam’s men fan out behind me, talking into radios, checking tire tracks, logging weapon casings. It’s too orderly for what this moment deserves. My insides are chaos, torn and violent and ready to rip the world apart from the foundation up.