Hellsbane Hereafter

By Paige Cuccaro

Taking sides could be deadly...

The war between good and evil is on, and nephilim Emma Jane is caught in the middle. Both sides want her working for them. And both sides know how to make her suffer if they don't like her choice. Now someone has raised the stakes and is using innocent humans as pawns in the ultimate fight for humanity...

Emma Jane isn't sure which side is responsible. What she used to believe about right and wrong, good and evil—even what she used to believe about herself—is changing. Because whether she likes it or not, the final reckoning comes down to Emma Jane Hellsbane. And she'll have to choose between humanity...and the man she was never supposed to love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Dec 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9781622662579

Book preview

Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Ninteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Discover more romance from Entangled…

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2014 by Paige Cuccaro. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

644 Shrewsbury Commons Ave

STE 181

Shrewsbury, PA 17361

[e-mail]

Amara is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

Edited by Stacy Abrams and Laura Stone

Cover design by LJ Anderson

ISBN 978-1-62266-257-9

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition December 2014

To my husband, Eric Cuccaro (IT1 USN), whose dedication to family and country make us all proud. Love my Navy guy. My real-life hero.

Chapter One

My sixth sense wormed under my skin, burrowing beneath the hairs at the back of my neck, warning me. But my sleepy mind pouted, wanting to fight the tug from oblivion, trying to ignore the unrelenting question that crystallized in my drowsy thoughts. Did something just move in the corner?

My eyes blinked open, struggling to make more of the shadows cast upon a curtain of blackness. There was nothing to see. Yet still, my instinct wouldn’t quiet, crawling over my body like an army of ants, refusing to allow me to look away.

Then it moved again.

My breath caught and held. I lay frozen, too shocked and scared to move a muscle. Slowly, I lifted my head just enough to peer deeper into that corner. Outside, a night owl hooted among the chirps of morning birds, and dawn hinted on the breeze, pushing back the night.

I narrowed my eyes as a body took shape in the darkness: a man, tall, dressed in faded jeans and a dark T-shirt. He edged from the deepest shadows into the dim light then stopped, watching me from no more than eight feet from the foot of my bed.

A manic kind of fear tightened across my chest, paralyzing me. My mind raced with a clamor of instincts: scream, run, hide. I did nothing, staring at the man, willing him to vanish like a bad dream.

Shadows masked his face, but the blond curls of his hair seemed to cast their own soft glow. Long arms hung at the sides of his lean, muscled frame. In his right hand a sword gleamed, its point nearly touching the floor.

Outside, a gentle wind pushed clouds from the moon, lifting shadows, finally revealing his face. I blinked again, not trusting my eyes.

Tommy? I whispered the name on an exhale, terror mixing with disbelief.

The boyish-faced man flashed a smile, blue eyes twinkling. Hey, Emma. Long time no see.

No. You’re dead, I whispered again, swallowing against the fear drying my mouth.

Yeah. I noticed that. His smile turned lopsided, less flashy and more genuine.

He’d died nearly two years ago, murdered right in front of me, stabbed through the heart by a demon. It was a common death for illorum, God’s half-angel warriors. We weren’t born illorum. We were born nephilim, half angel, half human, although most people like us don’t even know what they are. But Tommy and I were different. We knew what we were because we’d been attacked by demons and used an illorum sword to defend ourselves. The angels considered this a sign that we joined to battle against all evil and called us, and the hundreds or thousands who came before and after us, illorum. Now, death by demon was pretty much a daily risk.

You’re a ghost? I asked. I’d seen weirder things.

He shrugged, glancing down at his sword and then back at me. Don’t know, really. Just wanted to talk with you, and here I am.

I pushed up in bed, still not sure I could trust my senses. Eli stirred beside me, and I froze for a solid minute, waiting for him to wake up or settle back into sleep.

Tommy waved off my concern. Don’t worry about it. He can’t hear me.

I kept my voice to a whisper. Why not?

Don’t want him to.

Good for you. What about me? I stared at Eli. We can’t talk in here.

Tommy looked at the sleeping angel. He can’t hear you, either. I exist on a different plane, one where his kind isn’t welcome. When we speak, your voice comes through on this plane, too. Eli is deaf to all of it now.

I tried not to let my guilt show. Eli’s deep breaths picked up again, and I bunched my pillows at my back, hands trembling as I turned to the ghost at the foot of my bed.

Maybe I was still asleep, dreaming. It was a real possibility. What if this was my subconscious way of dealing with my guilt over Tommy’s death? Maybe. I mean, Tommy had been a good friend. He’d protected me when I was first marked as an illorum. He’d shown me the ropes, kept me alive. It’d been his sword I used to kill my first demon. The damned thing had burned the illorum mark on my wrist, a sword with the crossed skeleton keys over the blade beneath the hilt. All illorum had the mark.

But I trusted Tommy, or at least I had, and that familiarity lifted a small measure of my fear. It’s good to see you. Are you okay? What happened after you…after you died? Where did you go? Where have you been?

He shrugged and glanced over his shoulder at something I couldn’t see. Don’t know. My memory’s kind of Swiss cheese. I just needed to tell you something.

What? I shifted, folding my legs yoga style, and readjusted the blanket and sheet.

It wasn’t your fault, he said. It wasn’t your fault that I died.

My chest pinched, and the pain of that day swamped over me as raw and heart-wrenching as it had nearly two years ago. He’d been so worried about me, worried the demon I’d been battling had gotten the best of me while he fought off two on his own. He’d turned to check on me, let down his guard, and a demon ran a sword through his back straight into his heart.

I didn’t think it was my fault. I knew it was. I’d been twenty-three at the time, ignorant and clumsy. I’d been a distraction, and I’d cost him his life. Two years hadn’t changed my mind on that fact.

Tears stung my eyes and burned at the back of my throat. I couldn’t look at him. Tommy, I’m so sorry—

He stepped closer at the edge of my vision. It was my fault, Em. Do you hear me? I got cocky. Careless. My mind was already out of the game, thinking I was almost done.

Tommy had figured out who his angelic father was, the Fallen who’d seduced his mother. If Tommy could’ve gotten close enough and killed his father, Tommy would’ve been free.

That was the agreement made between all illorum and the seraphim angels: find and kill the Fallen who’d fathered you and return to a normal life. Angels were only male, so at least that limited the hunt to one sex. We’d be forgiven for the blasphemy of our existence upon our father’s death. No more demon attacks, no more Fallen, and no more of the cool, angelic powers that came with being an illorum. Like pushing the play button on our paused lives, we’d pick up where we’d left off. And Tommy had almost gotten to push that play button. Almost.

Jesus, Em. You’ve gotta stop blaming yourself. He sighed and crossed the few steps to the chair of my vanity and plopped into it without a sound, then swiveled to face me. Listen to me. You’re not bad luck or evil. Okay? You’ve got a destiny, Emma, and you’re the only one who can make it happen. You’ve got a job to do.

I looked away, my face warming. I hadn’t told anyone about the doubts running circles in my brain. So many things had gone wrong for the good guys since I’d joined their ranks. We’d lost Tommy and so many other illorum, as well as countless magisters, the angelic trainers. The war between Fallen and seraphim had ignited right before my eyes. Battles broke out everywhere now, seraphim against Fallen, demons battling illorum, and more and more humans became caught in the crossfire.

Most humans remained oblivious to the war raging around them. Angels moved at blurring speeds, their battles manifesting as collisions of natural phenomena causing anomalies like pop-up storms, sudden tornados, or freak hail showers. Humans couldn’t even see the angelic beings behind the disturbances. How long could humans remain clueless?

A job to do. Right. I scanned the dim room, finally landing on the back of the vanity chair behind him. Toss me those shorts.

He did. Don’t remember you being so modest.

The jean shorts nearly hit me in the face, but I caught them just in time. Thanks. Hate to be the one to break it to you, buddy, but a lot’s changed since you…y’know.

Checked out? he supplied.

Right. I glanced at Eli. He still breathed deeply and steadily, fast asleep. I carefully shifted to my edge of the bed, my back to Tommy so I could shimmy into the shorts. Whatever my destiny was, it’s not anymore. It can’t be. Not after what I found out about myself. And whatever my destiny is now…I don’t want anything to do with it.

"Why, because you found out your angelic father isn’t just any old fallen angel but a fallen archangel?" he asked.

I felt my face warm. Among other things. I stood, fastened the top button of the shorts, and pulled my nightshirt straight. Being the daughter of an archangel had made me stronger and faster than the average illorum, but other than that, it pretty much sucked. Kind of like being Hitler’s kid…with superpowers. I was a ticking time bomb that both sides wanted to kill or use.

I walked lightly around the end of the bed, throwing another glance at Eli, making sure he was sleeping. I smiled at my old friend. Nice to know you’re up to speed, wherever you are.

He rolled a shoulder in a lazy shrug and leaned back to prop his feet, dirty sneakers and all, on the corner of my bed. I know what I need to know. Don’t know how. Don’t really care.

My brain took notice of how the bed didn’t move from the weight of his feet, but my thoughts glazed over it, deciding it wasn’t important. Trust me. You’re missing a few details.

My blood ran cold, remembering how I’d let him down in so many ways. If he really knew what I’d done, the choices I’d made, and who I’d hurt, he’d never speak to me. Not that I had anticipated speaking to him again. I mean, he was dead after all. Which really made this whole conversation kind of unfair.

You didn’t kill him. He slipped his sword off his lap, stabbing my bedroom floor with its sharp point. He twirled the big weapon’s hilt in his hand, the blade spinning, though it didn’t leave the slightest mark on the hardwood. I know you didn’t kill your angelic father, Jukar, like you were supposed to.

I straightened, throat tight, folding my arms over my belly. I couldn’t. I didn’t have a choice.

Tommy snorted, and his gaze slid up to meet mine. Yeah, you did. Just because I was dead at the time doesn’t mean I don’t know things. Death gives me the inside scoop here, remember? Kind of a cosmic bird’s-eye view, from what I remember. Anyway, I know you could’ve sliced off his head and gone back to your old life. You could’ve been done with all of this angel and demon and illorum power shit. You could’ve been normal, the way you said you wanted.

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, then reached out to fiddle with the bedpost, not wanting to meet his eyes. It’s complicated.

Because of Eli? he asked.

My stomach twisted. I glanced at the sleeping angel in my bed. I couldn’t help it. Eli was my magister, or he used to be. He was a seraph who, like countless other seraphim, had allowed himself to be sullied by human interaction to train illorum to hunt, fight, and banish the Fallen, in the hopes of avoiding an all-out war between Heaven and Hell. It hadn’t worked. The war was on. And because of me, Eli had become one of the Fallen he’d trained me to hunt.

I turned to Tommy, my chin high, meeting him eye to eye. I love him.

I know. Tommy dropped his feet to the floor and leaned forward, shifting his sword between his knees, gripping the hilt with both hands. I knew the second you saw him. I could see it in your eyes. In his, too. I knew you’d make him fall. I tried to warn you.

My gaze narrowed, defiant despite knowing any argument I had was baseless. That’s not fair. It wasn’t our fault. The Council of Seven was going to take him away, take him back to Heaven. We’d never see each other again. Their decision would’ve been final.

I know.

No. You don’t know them, Tommy. A bitter laugh stirred up old resentments, fueling my indignation. They’re arrogant and condescending. They say they love humans, but they’re like a Supreme Court ruling over all angelic matters, interpreting God’s will and imposing law and punishment. No one questions them. Eli couldn’t have refused.

So he took himself out of their jurisdiction. He gave into his feelings for you and fell, Tommy said, his voice calm, unbiased, knowing more than I wanted him to.

No. I shook my head and reached out to fiddle with the bedpost again. No. It wasn’t like that. He…we…we just wanted to say good-bye. He was going to do what they wanted. He was going to leave, but we wanted a little more time together first. That’s all. We just wanted to stop fighting our feelings for a second—for one second. But then we kissed, and he held me in his arms, and we couldn’t let go.

You had sex with him.

Yes.

And it cost him his grace, Tommy said without an ounce of accusation in his tone. Now Eli’s one of the Fallen, and the Council of Seven and all seraphim have shunned him.

I looked away, guilt squeezing my chest. I resented being made to feel bad for what had come so naturally, what had seemed so right. My jaw tightened, and I turned to pace to the other side of the room. I love him. We did what we did, and we’ve accepted the consequences. What more do you want?

I heard him push to his feet, followed by the metal zing of him sheathing his sword. "Told you. I want you to fulfill your destiny. I want you to have the chance at a normal life that I didn’t. You have to do something, Emma. You can’t just sit on the sidelines because you think you don’t make a difference. You do. Everyone does."

I spun back to him, emotions making my words terse. I’m the daughter of a Fallen archangel who ignited a new war between good and evil. I got you killed and caused the only man I’ve ever really loved to fall from grace and be shunned by Heaven itself. Whatever destiny I was supposed to have is pretty much out of reach now.

He laughed and held his hands out to his sides. You say that like all of this, everything that’s happened, wasn’t the destiny you were supposed to have.

I let a tight smile turn the corners of my mouth, sure he was making some kind of sick joke. Right. Awesome destiny.

Not everyone is meant to be the hero, Emma. He folded his arms over his chest, rocking back on his heels. For every Churchill, there must be an Oppenheimer, and for every Joan of Arc, there is a First Duke of Bedford.

I’m destined to be an Oppenheimer?

I don’t know. He shrugged. Maybe. But I know there’s more ahead, and it won’t be easy. But you have to do what you know in your heart you must.

You mean what I know is right. The problem was I didn’t always know the difference between what was right and what I just wanted to be right. I’m not exactly an egomaniac, but I’m no saint, either. I knew what being intimate with Eli would cost him, cost both of us, but I’d done it anyway, because I loved him, and love trumps all. Doesn’t it? Or did I just want it to? If we were in love, wasn’t being together, honoring that love, the right thing to do, even if it meant going against the laws of Heaven and Earth?

Tommy stepped closer, slipping his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. I mean do what your heart tells you to do. It’s not always about right and wrong. Most things are never that black and white, anyway. Follow your gut, Emma. Do what you know you have to do. But do something. Don’t give up.

What if the difference I make is worse? What if it gets Eli killed this time or…banished to the abyss? I couldn’t stand even thinking about it. Fallen banished to the abyss are forever changed, tortured until the end of days. It’s Hell in every sense of the word. The lucky ones are freed by other Fallen, called up to serve them like indentured slaves. But what comes out of the abyss is often nothing like the creature that goes in.

If that’s your destiny, then so be it. His shoulders hitched high.

I snorted my disagreement. Screw that. I’m not going to risk hurting Eli any more than I already have.

Tommy glanced over his shoulder suddenly, like he’d heard something, his expression anxious. There was nothing there, but when he looked back to me, he seemed hurried, fidgeting on his feet, his grip shifting on the handle of his sword. Dammit, Emma, listen to me. The more time you waste trying to stay neutral, the stronger he gets.

The stronger who gets?

I…I don’t know. He huffed, shaking his head like he might somehow rattle the information loose. He’s hidden now, blending in, but not for long. I told you, my brain is like Swiss cheese, except the holes keep moving. I know something, see something, and then the next minute, it’s totally gone. But I know you’re running out of time.

If he’s hidden, how am I supposed to find him? You don’t even have a name? What’s he going to do? What the hell is this about, Tommy? I stretched for my sword resting in its sheath hooked over the bedpost on my side. The heavy hilt felt good, natural, in my hand. What’s happening, Tommy? What’s got you so jittery suddenly?

He shook his head again, holding a hand to his brow, grimacing. Nothing. Nothing. I can’t— He looked over his shoulder again. I followed his gaze. There was still nothing there. He turned back to me, stepped closer. Listen to me. You’ll know him when you see him. You’ll know before the rest. That’s why it has to be you who stops him, warns everyone. It’s not too late. You have to expose him, Em. Stop him before he fools everyone. Stop him!

Before I could respond, Tommy’s bright blue eyes widened, and he sucked a loud breath just as the sharp point of a sword erupted from his chest. His whole body stretched tall, shoulders back, arms out to his sides, and the long bloody blade turned, carving out his heart.

Blood gushed from Tommy’s huge chest wound in buckets, more than could ever fit in one body. Tommy’s handsome face froze in pain and confusion…just like the day he’d been killed.

Not again. Tommy! I rushed forward just as his knees gave out and he dropped to the floor. I was there, sliding to my knees, just in time to catch him. But he wasn’t there.

He’d vanished.

Tommy! Tears soaked my cheeks, streaming down my neck and chest. Tommy!

Emma Jane. I turned to see Eli sitting in bed, a worried frown creasing between his dark brows. My mouth gaped, and I looked back to where Tommy had just been. He had been there, hadn’t he? He’d spoken to me, sat in my vanity chair, propped his feet on the bed. Hadn’t he?

What is it, Emma Jane? What’s wrong? The mattress and sheets shifted as Eli slipped out of bed, his bare feet padding softly against the wood floor.

I sniffled, scrubbing away my tears with the back of my hand. Nothing. I just… I mean, I thought… Nothing. I’m fine.

I couldn’t tell him what I’d seen. I wasn’t sure myself. What was that? Some sort of psychic vison? A ghost? Or was I just losing my friggin’ mind? But it was so real.

A sob shook through me, and Eli leaned down, gathered me into his arms, and helped me to my feet. You’re crying. You’re not fine. What is it? What did you see? You were talking to someone.

Tommy. I think. He was here. I mean, I thought he was. But that’s not possible. Is it? His warm body molded against me, solid and real. He led me back to bed and I crawled to my side, Eli following close behind to pull me close again. He folded over me and pressed a kiss to my temple.

To most people, he was an ordinary man: dark wavy hair brushing the collar of his shirt, pale blue eyes, and a healthy, weekend-athlete kind of build. To me, he was so much more.

My illorum gifts allowed me to see the real Eli: bluish-black hair that shone like silk and eyes that had been as pale blue as a full moon, though they were several shades darker now than when we’d met. He’d lost the eggshell-white eyes of the seraphim, the color darkening ever so subtly toward blue in correlation to the amount of contact he had with humans.

Thomas no longer concerns himself with the happenings of this world. Eli’s warm breath caressed my cheek, his voice soothing my shaky nerves.

He smelled like wildflowers and cotton blossoms, and I breathed him in, allowing his scent to sooth me like a warm summer day. There were a million reasons why, against all better judgment and reason, I’d fallen for Eli. His ability to calm me and make me feel safe and loved were just two of them. We’d tried to resist what we felt for each other, the way our bodies came alive when the other was near. Eli even more than me. He was a good man, a righteous angel, dedicated, honorable, and reverent. But it didn’t work. Like a moth to a flame, we drew each other, hopelessly, disastrously, inevitably.

But it was more than just a physical thing between us. Eli was there when I needed him, always. He was my strength when my own faltered, my sanity. Eli understood me, accepted me in a way no one ever had before. Turns out I needed that. I needed him. And he’d given up everything to give me what I needed. Eli had chosen to love me over his brothers, over Heaven itself. He’d become the one thing he and all seraphim hated. He’d become a Fallen, but he’d done it for love—for me. And God help us, we were happy for it.

I sighed, aggravated at my emotional wig out. It was so real. I scrubbed at my drying tears, sniffling. Tommy stood right there talking and then…and then a sword jabbed through his chest and blood gushed everywhere…so much blood.

His arms hugged me tighter, his voice soft, his lips brushing my ear. Like the day he was killed.

I sniffled one last time and nodded. Yeah. But only at the end. Before that we were just talking.

I’d almost told him about Tommy’s weird insistence that I had some important destiny and I was basically dropping the ball. Tommy always used to gripe about my commitment, especially when he was alive, which, admittedly, was way less creepy and a ton less ominous. But that’s not why I didn’t want to tell Eli.

When Eli fell, almost a year to the day after Tommy was killed, I’d promised him we were in it together. Whatever Eli’s punishment, no matter who else turned their back on him, I never would. There was no way I’d go back on that promise. Telling him the cosmos might have had other plans for me would only make him push me away toward whatever greater good, or bad, might be in store.

It’s not that I didn’t care about the needs of the cosmos and everyone in it. I did. Mostly. But I already had a perfectly good plan. Granted, I hadn’t given it my full effort lately, but it was still a solid course of action. Or it would be once I, y’know, put it into action.

One thing I knew, it wouldn’t cost Eli his life, or me him. So unless the cosmos could come up with something better, I would stick to Operation Hellsbane: Keeps Her Happy Place and Helps the War Effort.

Eli tugged my shoulder, encouraging me to roll toward him so he could see my face. What did Thomas tell you?

I snuggled closer, finding that perfect spot against his chest where my body fit like it’d been made for me. I closed my eyes, sighing when he wrapped around me like a sexy angel blanket.

I pressed a kiss to his chin. Nothing important. Just weird, random stuff. Something about Doritos chip dust in the drapes and not letting the pigmies eat all the grapes. Crazy talk.

I hated lying to him, but I wasn’t ready to face the truth of what Tommy said, let alone talk about it. Usually angels can read human thoughts. In fact, they have to work at not reading them if they want any peace. But I’d learned a while ago how to shield my thoughts, and being the daughter of a Fallen archangel gave me the power to throw up some pretty hefty shields. I’d gotten good at keeping nosey angels and Fallen and pretty much everything else supernatural from reading my thoughts. As far as I knew, I was the only illorum who could do it. Yay me!

That’s not what he said.

I stiffened in his arms, then peeked up at him, brows high. How did you know?

He smiled, adding a level of beauty to his angelic face that still caught my breath even after two years. I didn’t. Not for sure, since you won’t let me hear your thoughts. But I know you well enough to notice that when you lie, the left corner of your mouth tugs up.

It does not. Does it? Did it? Crap. I shrugged and snuggled close again. Whatever. I don’t remember everything he said. It’s not like any of it was real. I must’ve been dreaming or something. Right?

It was mostly true. True enough to keep my stupid half smirk flat.

Maybe it was your subconscious telling you to reach out to your fellow illorum, to rejoin the battle you were born to fight and help them and my brothers win the war.

They’re not your brothers anymore. I rolled over, the turn of conversation tweaking my irritation. Eli’s embrace slipped away as I shifted out of bed. I watched them turn their backs on you. When they did that, they stopped being your brothers. Which is why I’m not helping them do anything. I need a drink of water.

I wasn’t really thirsty, but I couldn’t lay there while he sang the praises of his turncoat brothers.

We knew they would. It’s their nature. The fault is mine, but I still consider them brothers. He sat up, watching me as I rounded the end of the bed heading for the door. I still love them.

Yeah, well, they don’t feel the same way about you. I could almost feel Eli’s flinch when the words left my mouth, like I’d actually slapped him. Regret tightened my chest, and I went to him and sat close on the edge of the bed. I cupped the side of his face, meeting his pain-filled eyes. Eli, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like… I’m sorry.

He looked away, nodding. No. You’re right. I know what they think of me, how they feel. I’d felt the same way about those who’d fallen.

You followed your heart, I said.

His gaze swung back to mine. I disobeyed. I broke our most ardent law. I betrayed them, and I still remember the sting of their pain. I still feel the loss of them.

Eli’s eyes were a summer-sky blue now: still inhumanly beautiful, but dark enough that any of his brothers would notice instantly, if they bothered to notice him at all. It was my fault they never would.

Guilt pulled through me like barbed wire, snagging down my throat, coiling in my chest, shredding me. I’m sorry, Eli. I should’ve stopped you. I knew you’d regret that night with me eventually.

His face creased, and his arms grabbed around me lightning fast, pulling me to him so quickly I lost my breath. No. Not for an instant. Not ever. There is nothing in Heaven or on Earth that would have me turn back time, take back that night or any night since.

I know, but you miss your brothers. I just wish…

I love you, Emma Jane. If nothing else in your life is certain, you can trust that this single fact remains constant. The loss I feel for my brothers is nothing compared to the thought of losing you. I miss them. Yes. But I have new friends, new purpose. And most importantly, I have you. For that I am eternally grateful.

I leaned back, trying to see his face, watch his expression. "But what if I wasn’t a factor? What if I was gone, out of the picture—would you want to go back? Would you