Page 34 of Fierce Monarch

“Dominic?” I asked, because I knew Greyson was in front of me. My throat was scratchy, and my eyes felt drier than sand, though I didn’t know why.

Had I been crying? Screaming? Was this what a true mental break looked like? If so, I’d earned it after the last year, but fuck. Bad timing.

“I’m here, mariposa.” Dominic’s voice was low and soft, and his skin was warm. He didn’t have a jacket on, though it had been pouring rain earlier and he was completely dry. Which begged the question—how long had I been losing my shit while they watched?

“How?” I didn’t need an answer to that when I already knew Greyson had called. I was really asking Why?

Why are you here?

Why have you stayed?

Why do you love me when I’m like this?

“You needed us,” Dominic said softly, his lips pressed to my temple.

Greyson mirrored him on the other side. “And we need you.”

I did need them—both of them—but I didn’t like it. I didn’t want to need them like this. One look at the destruction of my brother’s safe space told me why.

People left. They left and they took part of you with them, and you never got it back. You just lived with a hole in your chest like it was normal. I already had too many holes in my chest.

Mama. Mario.

Antoni. Rey.

Nate.

I couldn’t take another.

But I couldn’t let them go either.

My men held me together as my mind whirled, catching on thoughts I didn’t want to have. Circled by the ones who’d loved me longest, I realized something awful. Nate hadn’t just broken my trust; it felt like he’d broken me in a way I’d never heal from. The wound itself would fade, but it would scar. And while they were reminders of past pain, past traumas, Nate had made sure his mark was too deep to ever fade.

Another one for the collection, I thought wearily.

I was tired of life shitting on me. Tired of never getting to feel whole. Tired of second-guessing everyone’s motives because with power came power-seekers, and I should’ve learned that lesson long before Nate snuck through my defenses and laid siege to my heart.

I was just tired.

But I didn’t have the luxury of being tired. Not yet. We had a war to win.

Clearing my throat, I withdrew from my men’s arms and stood on shaky legs to face the music. Some of the books were ripped to shreds, completely irreparable, others would need some serious work, but thankfully, most were okay.

“I’ve got a guy who can fix those for us,” Dominic said. Which was good because I didn’t have the energy to fix anything in this house anymore.

It was cursed. It had to be.

Looking away from the literary carnage, I met his eyes. “Did you drive?”

He looked at Grey with eyes shadowed like he hadn’t slept. Had I done that to him? Had I made him so worried he’d stopped resting, or was that the Nate effect? Had losing our fourth damaged Dominic too?

I hated that I was too selfish to ask, too wounded to care.

You don’t deserve them.

Eventually, Dominic nodded.

“Good. Give me your keys.”

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