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Mari had made the right choice ending things between us. The realization hit me square in the chest. Even if she forgave me, I didn’t deserve a third chance. Not anymore.
“Get over here,” Grey snapped, eyes burning into mine. He was livid, and I knew the fine shake of his hands wasn’t pain anymore. It was rage. “You don’t get to bow out yet. I don’t care what she said before, you’ll be here until she kicks you out herself. Same to you.”
His glare turned to Nate, who’d taken up a post by the door. The kid crossed his arms and lifted his chin, his feet firmly planted. “I’m not touching her until she’s awake and can give me permission. Unlike you two, we aren’t that close, and I’m not going to go any further until I have her consent.”
The reason was sound, so Grey turned back to me. “She needs us to anchor her. She needs a reason to wake up. Give her one.”
“Do I deserve to?” I didn’t mean to say it, but once I did, there was no taking it back.
“That’s not up to him. It’s up to her,” Nate answered, nodding at Mari. “It’s her choice. Let her make it.”
I made my way slowly to her bedside and stared down at the dark circles under her eyes and the bruises on her face. There was no part of me that wanted to touch her, but I had to. I had to feel her for myself. With trembling fingers, I brushed the hair off her forehead. She felt normal, like my Mari, and I bent down to lay my lips against her forehead. “Please wake up. Please.”
Though it would’ve been nice for her to wake up then, she didn’t. Not that hour or the next or the next. No matter how much we talked to her or kissed her palms, her wrists, her fingertips, she never stirred. Not when the nurses came in to check vitals or when Moore came by with food that none of us touched.
It was torture waiting, wondering, hoping, but it gave us time to prepare. Moore and Tennessee worked their magic and moved her to the abandoned ward, which apparently had lost its funding before renovation started. A hefty check from Grey and an exclusivity contract gave the Marcosa empire its very own place and Doc a new place to stitch us up. Twenty-four hours after her tracker had come back online, Mari opened her eyes.
We let the nurses in to check her over, and once they gave her the all clear, we shooed everyone out so it was just the four of us again.
“You’re here.” Mari’s voice was low and ragged, and my hand spasmed around hers.
“Of course we are.” Greyson gently traced his fingertips over her cheek.
“How’d you get in here?”
“Dominic told them we were your husbands,” Grey deadpanned.
Mari froze in the middle of readjusting, eyes jerking to mine before laughing. “Of course you did.”
That laugh was a shade of her normal one, but it was still a kick to the chest. When you don’t know if you’ll hear someone laugh again, you cherished the sound in any form it came.
“How did you get here?” I asked, curious. Nurse Erin had said Mari was nearly dead when they found her in the ER. They had no clue how she’d gotten inside.
“Antoni.”
Grey’s head snapped up. “What?”
“I thought I was dying and he was taking me to the afterlife. Instead, he brought me here.”
She sounded so sure of herself that I immediately believed her. I mean, it made sense. In her last minutes, Mari had conjured the one person she missed the most—her brother. It was beautiful.
Grey looked away and cleared his throat. When he spoke, his voice was as rough as Mari’s. “I wish I could’ve seen him.”
A throat cleared. “Actually, I think she meant me.”
As I whirled toward the voice, shock held me immobile for a single second at the sight of the man at the door. Then I was on my feet, gun in hand. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Chapter Four
Mari
It was like staring at a ghost. Or maybe not a ghost, but the version of Antoni he would’ve become if he’d lived longer. The man in the doorway’s hair was shorter than my brother’s ever was, his eyes more guarded. He had none of the laugh lines that Antoni would’ve had, none of the joy. Had he always been like that, or had it been stolen from him like it’d been systematically stolen from me? I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out.
The other Antoni watched me, calm as could be, and I wondered what he saw. Did he see a queen getting back to her feet or a woman who was tired? Did he see how much I craved safety for my people, or could he only make out my blood-soaked hands? Was I etched in grief, or did I just look normal to him?
Throughout my inspection, Dominic never wavered, never took his eyes off the man, and never lowered the gun. He stayed between us, and I knew that if my savior pulled a gun, Dominic would take the bullet. Just like Rey had, like Greyson would. I didn’t want that. Whatever happened between us, I wanted him with me. Alive. I needed it like I needed air. “Enough, Dominic.”
He just lifted his gun a fraction higher, an unspoken promise that he could do it for however long he had to. “Answer my question. What are you doing here?”
