Ronan pushes off the wall and drags a hand through his hair. His jaw flexes so hard the muscle twitches. “We fucked up,” he says bluntly. “We know that. And we’re not here to argue with you about it. You have every right to be pissed.”
Rowan hasn’t moved. He stands like a statue carved from tension and regret. His voice doesn’t come right away. He just stares with those dark eyes full of emotion he never lets out. It makes my chest ache.
Before I can apologize—for the slammed door, for the hurt in his eyes—Ronan holds up a hand.
“Let us finish.”
I nod, leaning against the doorframe, bracing myself.
Ronan exhales slowly, as if forcing the truth out before it strangles him.
“We know you can handle yourself. Hell, you’ve survived shit none of us could’ve, but you have to understand where we’re coming from too.” His voice dips. “You were gone for six years, Berk.Six years.We thought you were dead. Dead. Dead.”
Emerson’s hand finally lands on my arm, warm and steady.
“And then we saw what they did to you,” Ronan continues, eyes darkening with violence. “And my brain broke. My chest broke. My sanity damn near broke. I still don’t know how you survived that.” His voice shakes. “I can’t go through losing you again. Never.”
There’s no smartass comment in me to offer. Nothing but the sting behind my eyes and the lump in my throat.
Then Rowan moves.
It’s small at first—a step forward. A hesitant reach of fingers brushing my forearm. But for Rowan Calder, that’s like a full emotional confession broadcast on national television.
When he speaks, his voice is rough, scraped raw from the inside. “I replay that fucking video in my head every night,” he hisses.
My breath lodges in my lungs.
“Every damn night,” Rowan repeats. “Trying to figure out how I missed it. How I didn’t see what was happening. HowI didn’t stop it.” His fingers curl slightly in my sleeve. “How I didn’t protect you. Or Reign.”
Hearing him say her name—Reign—cuts deep. Cuts slow. Cuts real.
He shakes his head, throat bobbing hard.
“When we found you again… when I saw you standing there breathing… knowing what I’d done to you… how I never protected you…” His voice splinters. “Something inside me snapped back together. But seeing what they did to you? Knowing we weren’t there? Knowing I failed both of you…” His voice drops so soft I barely catch it. “It guts me, Berk.”
I reach out and take his hand because it’s the only thing I can do without collapsing into him. His fingers tighten instantly, as if he’s afraid I’ll evaporate.
“I get it,” I whisper, and I mean it. “I really do.”
Emerson’s palm settles between my shoulder blades, grounding me. Ronan steps closer too, like they’re instinctively forming a wall around me again—only this time not to smother, but to steady.
“This is new for all of us,” I say, looking between them. “We’re trying to figure out how to be… us. How to love each other without repeating the past. Without drowning each other.”
Ronan snorts softly, shaking his head. “Yeah, and we’re fucking terrible at it.”
Despite everything, a tiny smile pushes through. It’s tired. Sad. Real.
Rowan squeezes my hand. “We’re trying, Berk,” he says softly. “We just… we don’t want to lose you again. We can’t. Losing you once destroyed something in us we didn’t even know was there. We’re terrified of a second time.”
“We’re even more terrified of you walking into danger alone,” Emerson adds. “You shouldn’t have to bear every scar by yourself. Not anymore.”
I swallow hard. Their pain. Their fear. Their love. It hits me all at once, a tidal wave of emotions that rattles my bones.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell them, voice steadying even as my heart trembles. “But I’m not stepping back either. Kimber needs us.”
Ronan nods, jaw set with fierce determination.
Rowan’s shoulders loosen just a fraction.