Page 112 of Wreckage

More hands. More gentle voices.

“Rest. You need to rest. You’re hurt.” A cool touch pressed against my forehead. “You’re safe.”

But they weren’t. I wasn’t because I wasn’t with them.

I tried to speak, tried to force the words out, but the exhaustion dragged me back under, the light fading, the warmth dulling, the pain sinking into nothing.

Darkness pulled me back.

And as I fell, I whispered the only thing that mattered.

“Please…save them.”

Chapter 40

Adrian

Day four.

No Troy. No rescue. No hope.

The air inside the wreckage felt thicker than before, heavy with death, regret, and the weight of what was coming.

The silence was the worst part. Elena didn’t speak anymore. She didn’t cry, didn’t fight, didn’t even flinch when I touched her. She’d stopped eating after Troy left and stopped drinking only two days ago.

She was just…gone. She was leaving me.

She let me hold her now. Let me whisper words of love, apology, and desperate longing against her skin.

But she never responded. Never moved.

The only thing that told me she was still alive was the faint rise and fall of her chest. But even that was slower than it should have been.

I tried to make her eat. Tried to force water between her lips. But she only swallowed because she had to, not because she wanted to.

She was fading. She was dying, just like she wanted.

And by tomorrow, I would fade with her. I wouldn’t fucking let her leave without me.

I heldher in my arms, tucking her against my chest, pressing my lips into her hair, inhaling the faintest remnants of her scent. It barely lingered, but it was all I needed.

“Elena,” I whispered.

No response. Just that empty, hollow stare.

“You remind me of a butterfly,” I murmured, tracing slow patterns down her cold arms.

Nothing.

I swallowed against the ache in my throat, pushing forward.

“When you dance, you look so free,” I whispered, my lips brushing her temple. “So…beautiful.”

I choked on the word, my eyes burning because she wasn’t that anymore. Now, she was a broken-winged butterfly trapped in an endless winter, unable to escape the frozen hell we were in.

“I used to watch you,” I admitted. “More than I should have. More than I had the right to. I used to wonder what you were thinking. If you ever saw me at all.”

A tear slipped down my cheek, landing on her pale face. Still, she didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe any deeper.

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