intrepidity

Chapter 44

"We can't just sit here. We need to know what's happening."

Roman's gaze snapped toward him, but there was no anger in his eyes, just exhaustion—he understood. "We wait."

Alec growled, the anger bubbling up. "I can't wait. I can't stand this, not knowing if he's—if he's—" He couldn't finish the sentence. He was afraid if he said it, it might make it true. So he just kept pacing, trying to outrun the helplessness clawing at him from the inside.

Aurora watched them all, the weight of their despair pressing down on her chest, suffocating her. She could feel the unbearable tension in the room, the unbearable fear they all shared, and yet none of them seemed capable of moving toward her. 

The tears fell from her eyes without warning, but she didn't wipe them away this time. She didn't have the strength to. She was too empty, too afraid. What if they lost Marcus? What if the boy who had always teased her, the one who made her laugh even on her worst days, was never going to be there again?

She wanted to scream, to rail against the unfairness of it all, but her voice was trapped in her throat.

Elias finally moved. He crossed the room, his footsteps soft, like he was afraid to break something. He sat down beside her, his presence a quiet comfort. There were no words, no reassurances. Just silence between them. 

His arm slowly went around her shoulders, pulling her close, she felt the steadying strength of his embrace. His chin rested on her head, and despite everything, despite the pain, Aurora found herself clinging to him, desperate for some semblance of normalcy, even if it was just the warmth of his body.

"I can't lose him," she whispered, her voice barely audible, a raw, broken plea. "I don't want to."

Elias didn't speak for a long time. He just held her tighter, as if he was trying to shield her from the world. But the truth hung heavily in the air—he couldn't promise her that Marcus would make it. No one could. But he couldn't tell her that. Not now.

"None of us are ready to lose anyone, baby," he finally murmured, his voice rough, more emotion than he had ever shown.

Aurora leaned into him, her tears soaking into his shirt. She could hear the others behind her, the sound of their breath, the restless shifting of their feet. But no one said anything. They couldn't. There were no words that would make it better, no comforting things to say that would fill the space between them and the fear they felt for Marcus. All they had was the silence and the waiting.

The twins exchanged looks, but neither said anything. Antonio's hands were still clenched into fists, his nails biting into his palms, trying to hold himself together. Atlas's eyes were full of something too raw to name—fear, confusion. They were all feeling it, each in their own way, but none of them knew how to make it stop.

The door to the surgery room opened, and all eyes snapped to it. The doctor walked out, his face grim, his hands wringing a thin piece of paper in his fingers.

The world seemed to slow down, the air becoming impossibly thick with dread. Aiden was the first to stand, his expression unreadable, his posture taut with tension. The doctor hesitated for a moment, meeting Aiden's gaze, before stepping closer.

"I'm sorry. He's still in critical condition. The next few hours are crucial. We can't predict the outcome yet, but we're doing everything we can."

Aurora's world seemed to stop in that moment. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't move. Her brother—her Marcus—was fighting for his life, and no one could tell her whether he would survive.

She barely felt the arm that gently slipped around her waist, pulling her close. Roman's voice was quiet, but the strain was there.

"We'll get through this, Sorellina. We'll get through it together."