Page 39 of Stealing Cinder

"What I was going to say is, I’m sorry to put it so bluntly, but you don't get a say in the matter anymore, sweetheart." His tone is direct. He folds his arms and his gaze sweeps from her to me and back. "We shed blood, his blood, in his territory. There's no way through this except by eliminating the threat. His retaliation will be severe and we can’t have that." He lets her absorb his words. "This is about protecting you as much as it is about protecting ourselves, our families, and our territories."

Cinder turns her head toward me. Those pale blue eyes search my face for confirmation, for any sign that Valerian is exaggerating.

I give her the truth. A single nod.

"Edgar dies tonight."

Her throat works on a hard swallow. Her fingers find the hem of my shirt and twist the fabric between them. She pulls her lower lip between her teeth and her eyes go glassy before she blinks the moisture away.

"I don't have a choice in this, do I?" The crack in her voice drives a blade between my ribs. "I've never had a choice in anything." In other situations those words would sound bratty, but right now they are lined with heartache and her truth.

I wrap my arm around her, my forearm pressing gently over the curve of our child, my hand settling on her hip. Her body trembles against mine. The vibration moves through her ribs and into my arm and the reality of how much fear she's been carrying alone for five months hits me with physical force.

"We all need to go prepare."

That's Oliver. Quiet. Professional. Already moving toward the door. He knows when to clear a room.

Cinder steps out of my reach. The absence of her warmth is instant and jarring. She wraps her arms around herself and moves toward the wall of windows, putting the length of the living room between us.

My friends approach me. Bastian shakes my hand, his grip saying everything. Valerian claps my shoulder, scarred fingers squeezing once. Oliver is last. He meets my eye, nods, and the entire conversation happens in the silence between us. Years of operating together have built a language beyond words. There’s a trust between us that was forged in blood that lasted through decades of keeping each other alive.

"I'll be with you shortly."

The side door closes. Their footsteps fade against the concrete and the quiet rushes back in.

I am not thinking about my friends. I am not running through the weapons in my safe or Edgar's or the calls I need to make.

Cinder stands at the glass. The sleeping garden stretches into darkness behind her reflection. My shirt swallows her small frame, the white fabric ghosting over the curve of her belly. Pale blonde hair spills over one shoulder, catching the faint silver-green glow from the landscape lights. Her hand rests where it always rests, splayed across the swell where our child grows.

I have added to her pain tonight. Dragged her from one warzone into another. And now she stands in my living room carrying the weight of all of it across shoulders that are far too small for the load.

It is up to me to help her find solace while we sort out the mess. That starts with keeping her safe and giving her a reason to trust that safety isn't temporary.

For the first time in my life, I am afraid.

Edgar doesn't scare me. War doesn't scare me. I've fought wars and won them. Buried men and slept soundly after.

Losing her again. That is the fear gnawing at the frayed ends of my raw nerves.

She walked away from me once and I spent five months with a black hole over my heart. If she walks away a second time, if I fail to keep her safe, if this night takes her from me, no amount of power or violence or territory will matter.

I watch her palm trace slow circles over our child. My hands have ended lives without a second thought. Tonight I stand in the dark and pray to a God I've never spoken to.

Don't take her from me.

CHAPTER 12

CINDER

While Samuel says his goodbyes, I move to the windows. Since giving me his shirt, he’s been bare-chested and it’s hard to focus with all that gorgeousness on display.

I turn my attention to the darkness beyond the glass. The grounds dissolve into a black so complete the manicured hedges lose their shape and become silhouettes stacked against the night.

A single landscape light flickers near the far fence line, catching the boots of an enforcer before he passes and the dark swallows him whole.

Stillness lives out there, the kind I used to take for granted when my father's house held the same quiet and the quiet meant safety.

My mind is full and empty at the same time. Months of planning, all of it stripped away.