CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
ZADE
Panic is an old friend of mine.
It's a cold, grounding presence that always arrives right on time to remind me exactly who I am and what I truly deserve.
Pain and loneliness.
That is my birthright.
Because every single time I have dared to desire something in this life, the universe has snatched it away from me with brutal, unrelenting violence.
My unborn sister.
The girl I had loved since I was twelve years old.
A child that wasn't even mine, but carried a piece of my history.
All of them were ripped from my hands and locked away in the darkest, most hollow corners of my soul.
I thought I had sealed that door forever.
I tried everything to keep the shadows contained.
But the exact fraction of a second my Wildfire stormed into my life, everything changed.
I vowed right then that I would never let history repeat itself.
I would tear the world apart before I let the darkness touch her.
Yet, here I am. Watching her slip right through my fingers.
Alice had always told me how much she loathed me.
She made sure I knew exactly how deep her despise ran, and yet, the fierce, unbroken defiance in her eyes had become a drug in my veins.
It was the only thing keeping me anchored.
It gave me a reason to fight, a reason to refuse to slip back into the black abyss I crawled out of.
I won't let you leave me, Alice. Remember who you are. You belong to me.
The witch belongs to the devil, and I am not done with you yet.
"Julian, clear the fucking way!" I roar, my voice echoing off the concrete walls as I cradle her broken, bleeding body closer to my chest.
Every heavy, ragged drop of her blood hitting the floor feels like a second ticking off her life.
Within three explosive strides, I burst through the exit and into the waiting car.
Harry is already in the driver's seat, the engine revving violently.
In the seat beside me, Nate is frantic, cradling Ellie in his arms.
She's whimpering softly now, her hands clutched tightly over her belly.
The pure, unadulterated panic radiating off Nate is suffocating as he whispers desperate reassurances, pressing soft, terrified kisses against her forehead.
I snap my gaze down to Alice's pale face, then look up into the rearview mirror.
"Drive like your throat is on the slaughterhouse block, Harry," I growl, my voice dropping into a lethal, low vibration.
He doesn't need a second warning.
The tires screech against the pavement, throwing us back against the leather seats as the car rockets into the night...
I reach down and grasp Alice's hand, pulling it up to my lips.
Her skin is terrifyingly cold, the vibrant color entirely drained from her flesh.
Don't you dare leave me, Alice. Don't you fucking dare.
I am begging her in the silence of my mind, a frantic prayer from a man who doesn't believe in God.
I press a desperate kiss against her raw knuckles, then lean up to brush the stray, blood-matted red strands away from her face.
I press my mouth to her forehead, lingering against the beautiful, faint freckles that I've grown completely obsessed with.
Within minutes, the car violently breaks at the emergency entrance of the hospital.
I fling the door open, carrying her out with a careful, hyper-protective grip.
"Doctors! Where the fuck are all of you?!" I scream, my voice shattering the sterile quiet of the lobby.
The medical staff rushes toward us instantly, moving like caged animals suddenly slipped free from their restraints.
I lay Alice down onto the rolling gurney, my hands violently shaking as they begin to wheel her away.
It's the exact same suffocating feeling.
The same absolute helplessness I felt three years ago. I can feel the phantom weight of old grief pressing down on my chest, and the rage bubbles over.
I grab the lead surgeon by the front of his scrubs, pulling him in until he can see the absolute madness in my eyes.
"If something happens to her, be ready to find this entire fucking building in ashes before the sun rises."
The doctor pales, scrambling back as I release him, nodding frantically before rushing through the double doors.
A few minutes pass in an agonizing blur before the rhythmic, familiar click of designer heels echoes down the hallway.
I look up. My mother is pacing toward me, her eyes wide with terror, followed closely by my father and, of course, Julian.
The bastard must have called them the second we left the basement.
"Zade!" my mother cries, rushing forward to wrap her arms around me.
She is trembling, completely panicked.
"What happened, love? You were with me just a few hours ago..."
"I'm fine, Mom," I mutter, gently detaching her arms so I don't get Alice's blood on her clothes.
"There's a lot to tell, and I'll explain everything later. But not right now. Please... just let me have some peace."
I shift my gaze past her, locking eyes with my father.
"Why did you bring her here, Dad? You know she hates hospitals."
"I didn't bring her, Zade," my father replies smoothly, his voice calm as he steps up and places a protective, anchoring hand around my mother's waist.
"She was already awake. She heard you talking to Julian over the phone."
I watch the way he holds her, the quiet, unyielding strength of their connection.
It's the one thing I have always adored and envied about my parents.
Their love is absolute. It's the kind of love that defines the word itself.
My mother looks past my shoulder, her brow furrowing. "Nate...? What are you doing here?"
My attention shifts over to him as well. Nate is sitting on a plastic chair, his head in his hands.
This is the guy who has risked absolutely everything for me since we were kids.
Whether it was switching from polo to golf just so we could stay on the same athletic tracks, or completely having my back whenever my world went to hell—he has never wavered.
And the moment he found out he was going to be a father, I watched him grow up in a single day.
I look at him and wonder how a person as cursed as I am managed to end up with people who care this deeply.
"Ellie was with Alice," Nate lies smoothly, his voice tight.
He knows better than to break the news of her pregnancy to my parents in the middle of a hospital corridor.
"She fainted from the stress, so I'm waiting for the doctors to clear her."
"Oh dear..she'll be alright" she assures him..as he nods..
Suddenly, my mother gasps, reaching out to grab my wrist.
"Zade, your hand...? How did you... oh god, you're bleeding."
Her eyes instantly fill with tears, a sight that causes a sharp, unpleasant ache in my chest.
"Mom... Mom, listen to me," I say softly, covering her hand with my clean one.
"I am perfectly fine. I need you to go home and rest. I will let you know the second we have an update, and then I'll tell you how we ended up here."
I look up and give my father a sharp, meaningful signal to take her away.
She despises hospitals; she doesn't need to be here for this.
After a few more gentle protests, my father guides her back toward the exits.
A nurse approaches me tentatively, quickly cleaning and dressing the lacerations in my palm before retreating out of sight.
The silence of the corridor returns, heavy and suffocating.
I begin to pace the length of the hallway like a caged beast, my nerve endings firing with a chaotic storm of thoughts.
"She'll be fine, Zade," Nate says quietly from the chairs.
"She's not immortal, Nate," I snap, stopping my pacing to look at him.
"This is the second time she's been in a hospital bed entirely because of me."
I let out a rough breath, crossing the hallway to sink into the chair beside him.
He looks like a grieving man, a hollow expression on his face that I've never seen before.
"Ellie is going to be alright, Nate," I add, my voice dropping into a softness I didn't even know I possessed.
"She's been under an impossible amount of stress in a single twenty-four-hour period, Zade," Nate says, his voice breaking as he slams his elbows onto his knees.
"I can't lose either of them. I told her... I told her that if she ever wanted to go somewhere, all she had to do was ask me. But she didn't even tell me where she was going. Hell, she lied to me." He sounds utterly hollowed out, deeply hurt by the deception.
"She didn't tell you because she wanted to get away from you, Nate," I say firmly, grabbing his shoulder.
"She did it because she didn't want to worry you. That's just who Ellie is."
"But she could have at least told me she wasn't going to see Mio! She went straight to Alice... ah, fuck!"
In a sudden burst of agonizing frustration, Nate slams his fist against the drywall.
The vibration rattles down the corridor, causing a group of nurses at the central station to freeze in place. None of them dare to speak a word to us.
"Mr. Hayes?"
The generic voice breaks the tension.
We both snap our heads around to see a female physician standing near the entrance of the maternity ward.
Nate scrambles to his feet in an instant.
"How is she?"
"She's conscious, and she's already asking for you," the doctor says, offering a small, reassuring smile.
"She's under a mild sedative right now, but the babies are perfectly fine. However, we would like you to keep a very close eye on her over the next few weeks. This level of severe emotional trauma and stress can be highly dangerous to both the fetuses and the mother."
I hear Nate's breath violently hitch in his throat, and for a split second, mine does too.
The babies. The fetuses.
We knew she was pregnant, but the reality hits like a freight train. She's pregnant with twins.
"Fuck..." Nate breathes out, dragging both of his hands through his hair.
When he turns to look at me, his eyes are frantic, shining with a sudden, overwhelming mixture of tears and pure, unfiltered joy.
"Congratulations, motherfucker," I say, a genuine smirk breaking through my exhaustion as I clap a heavy hand against his back.
"Now you better go in there and make sure you don't start a fight about what happened. Keep it about what's going to happen next."
He nods quickly, wiping a hand across his face before turning on his heel and lunging through the doors toward the maternity ward.
And just like that, I am left completely alone in the absolute darkness of my own mind.
The silence of the hallway closes in on me again.
Every time I close my eyes, the images burn into my retina: her bruised, darkened cheeks, the violent tremors of her sobs, and that final, silent tear slipping from the corner of her eye before the darkness took her..
Make it back to me, Alice. You have to make it back.
Hours bleed into one another.
The adrenaline completely fades, leaving behind a cold, hollow exhaustion that settles deep into my bones.
Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the emergency surgical wing swing open.
My heart drops into my stomach.
I stand up slowly as the surgeon steps into the light, his expression entirely grim and exhausted as he begins his long, slow walk toward me.