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Everything else is slow.

He did. He pushed that button.

“I was right, wasn’t I?”

He frowns. “About?”

“Your chest being a safe place to rest.”

“No, you weren’t. You weren’t safe. I wasn’t safe. I was losing my mind thinking I lost you.” Forehead to mine, he rasps, “Don’t ever do that shit to me again.”

“Die?”

“You didn’t die. You fought. Thank fucking God you fought, my silver lining.”

Hand still pressed to his chest, I grin. At least I think I grin. Everything is fuzzy.

“I had my anchor to keep me here.”

And then I’m out, surrounded by nothing but a warm haze of tranquility.

I was right. Safe.

“You okay?”

I look around us and nod. “So far.”

My boyfriend doesn’t relax one bit, making me chuckle. Khaos is very wound up right now, and as cute as it is, I’m starting to wonder if he’s the one at risk of being overwhelmed.

Worried something of this magnitude would be too much for me so soon after being shot, he’s been against us attending any Littoral events. But it’s been a month and I’m in therapy—physical, occupational, and psycho—working through all the damage a traumatic event like that incurs, so I’m ready to give it a try.

Although, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m on the wrong side of the fence. I would prefer to be on the other side, with my team, in the action, but even I can admit I’m not ready for that yet. Mentally, physically, I have a ways to go before I can rejoin my team. They deserve the best top girl and I’m going to work my ass off to become that again.

Out here isn’t so bad though, seeing everything from this angle. I’ve never watched a Lit U game as a spectator. It’s different. Fun.

Sort of.

“Go Redbreasts!” I cheer as loud as I can from our spot on the lawn. Khaos didn’t want us packed in the stands like sardines and I’m glad. It’s nice out here. Plus, nobody’s crowding us, jostling me. My right arm’s doing much better, my mobility improving every day. I do have scars on both sides of my shoulder. They’re noticeable, and probably always will be, but they’re minimal thanks to Khaos’s thorough aftercare. He was such a diligent nurse, sometimes annoyingly so. Can’t say I blame him. If the roles were reversed, I would be, too. I know he carries a lot of guilt over what happened, but I don’t regret anything. If I hadn’t taken that bullet, he would’ve been shot somewhere a lot worse than the shoulder, somewhere fatal.

“That’s your one yell, Silver,” he says, reminding me of the terms from our earlier negotiation.

I try not to pout.

While my lung did collapse, it’s all healed up now. I only agreed not to push it tonight to appease my overprotective nurse.

“You’re like a helicopter mom.” I was hoping he’d loosen up once we got here.

Khaos looks offended before informing me, “I’m a lawnmower mom. I’ll mow all these motherfuckers down.” He gestures to, well, everyone.

“You’re crazy.”

Sliding his arms around me, he hugs me from behind, and murmurs near my ear, “About you.”

I brace myself for the disapproving stares before remembering there’s no reason for them. Khaos was only my stepbrother for less than a handful of months, under the pretense of what turned out to be a bogus marriage anyway.

As far as I’m concerned, it didn’t even count. As far as the state’s concerned, too. My mom got her annulment, uncontested, of course, thanks to Graham’s disappearing act. She was not happy about Khaos sticking around though, practically forbidding him from coming back into her house, let alone living in it. But since my life isn’t centered around obeying her every demand anymore, I moved out. Khaos was the only thing I ever liked about that house anyway, so it was an easy decision for me to make. She also cut me off financially in every area except for education because the only thing worse to Seraphina Rhodes than losing a daughter would be having a failure for a daughter.

With Khaos’s new job in construction and the money I earned from Heart and Hype, we were able to get our own place without any help. The entire apartment is about the size of my old bedroom but we love—