intrepidity

Chapter 47

Aiden nodded slowly, one hand reaching up to brush a lock of hair out of her face, the same way he used to when she was two and afraid of thunderstorms. "He's asking for you."

That was all it took.

Aurora flung the blanket off her legs and tried to stand—but her knees buckled the second she put weight on them.

"Aurora," Aiden breathed, already catching her before she could fall. He scooped her up like she weighed nothing, arms secure beneath her legs and around her back. She didn't even protest—just curled into him, fists clinging to the front of his coat as the dam inside her cracked wide open.

Her tiny body trembled in his arms.

"I've got you," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her hair. "It's alright, I've got you. You're safe, Marcus is alright. Everything is okay."

She didn't say anything. Just buried her face into his chest, sobbing quietly.

And Aiden held her like she was the most precious thing in the world. Like he was terrified she'd slip away too if he let go. He carried her down the hall, not saying a word, moving with purpose and something like desperation.

The world blurred around her—white walls, hushed voices, flickering lights.

Then the ICU doors opened with a soft hiss.

Inside, it was quieter. Still. The kind of quiet that made every beep from the heart monitor sound like a gunshot.

Marcus was lying in the bed.

Still.

Too still.

Machines surrounded him. His torso was tightly bandaged beneath the gown, wires curling from his chest and arms. There was an oxygen tube across his face, and bruises bloomed across his skin like dark blossoms. The thick, raw scar now ran down the side of his face, stretching from just beneath his eye to the line of his jaw.

He looked like a ghost.

Aurora's breath caught in her throat.

But then—

A soft groan.

He stirred faintly, his head turning ever so slightly on the pillow. His brows knit together. His eyes blinked open.

Cloudy.

Slow.

But alive.

His gaze found her almost instantly, and even through the haze of pain and sedation—he smirked.

A tired, crooked, Marcus-style smirk.

"Hey, little princess," he rasped, voice barely audible. "You look like crap."

Aurora burst into tears.

And Aiden finally let her down beside the bed, where she grabbed Marcus's hand and held it like a lifeline.

-

The room was still.

Aurora didn't let go of Marcus's hand, even when her arms began to ache. His fingers were rough, calloused from years of throwing punches and gripping knives, but they twitched faintly against hers. He was here. He was real. He was alive.

And Aiden—
He hadn't said a word.

He stood at the edge of the bed, unmoving, staring at Marcus like he was trying to convince himself this wasn't another cruel dream. The silence hung heavy between them, until Aiden finally, finally stepped closer.

He lowered himself beside the bed, kneeling slowly like it took every ounce of strength in his body.

Then—
With a trembling breath, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Marcus's.