Page 78 of Rupture

“Secure him to MARV.”

“Copy.”

The two Wolves worked rapidly in the freezing darkness. Rose counted her breaths, forcing each one to stay measured and even while her chest threatened to explode with barely contained panic. Not now. She couldn’t lose it now.

“He’s secured, Rose.”

She swallowed hard. “Hang on. I’m getting you out of here.” She depressed the accelerator with her thumb, willing her voice not to break. “Bringing you all home.”

“Copy that.”

MARV’s bio-mechanical tail propelled them rapidly through the water. The speed was a sweet relief after the careful extraction. Rose switched MARV to autonomous home mode, its neural network already calculating the optimal return path.

Light spilled from the moon pool, rippling across the curved walls as she hurried toward it, the anti-venom clutched to her chest.

The lower platform engaged with a deep thrum of engines and began to rise. MARV’s serpentine form emerged, snugged protectively against Finn as the platform juddered upward. Liev and Ethan crouched at his side, water sluicing from their bodies.

Rose leaped onto the platform as soon as it locked into place, freezing water swirling around her legs, scissors and hypodermic in her hands.

She dropped to her knees beside Finn and quickly cut his wetsuit from his left wrist to his elbow. She cleared the safety on the syringe with shaking hands then finding the vein in his arm, she pushed the anti-venom in, her breath stalling as the syringe emptied.

“Clear!” Liev and Ethan moved in, unstrapping Finn and lifting him off the platform. Water sloshed as they carried him into the dive room. Liev removed Finn’s dive mask and tanks, while Ethan sliced higher up his sleeve. The veins around the bite site were darkening, the mottled purple creeping further up his arm.

“Applying compression bandage.” Ethan wrapped it snugly just above the bite site, avoiding the worst of the swelling, his jaw tense with concentration.

Rose stumbled off the platform. Her lungs seized—from the icy water or sheer terror, she couldn’t tell.

He couldn’t die. Not now. Not after she’d just found him.

“BP’s low but holding,” Ethan muttered, positioning an oxygen mask over Finn’s face.

Rose crawled to his side, her vision swimming as the tears finally came. She gripped his uninjured hand, her thumb brushing circles against the back.

“The anti-venom’s in his system,” Ethan checked Finn’s pupils with a penlight. “The next hour decides everything.” He exchanged a look with Liev, then rocked back on his heels, running a hand across his mouth. “We’ve done what we can.”

“Thanks, Ethan.” Her voice faltered as she bent low over Finn, her lips brushing his ear. “Just so you know, not living is not an option.”

Finn’s fingers twitched weakly beneath hers. The faintest movement—but it was enough.

She let her head drop, heavy with tangled thoughts looping endlessly in her mind. Could she have prevented this? The muscles at the back of her skull cramped, and an iron band tightened around her forehead.

She exhaled a long breath, forcing herself to look at him. His chest rose and fell in shallow, labored breaths, his skin tinged gray beneath the oxygen mask.

“I’m so sorry. This should never have happened. You’re here because of my sister. You risked your life because of what she did. I wanted to believe she’d changed. I wanted it so badly. Because if she could change, maybe we could stop fighting. Stop carrying all this anger.” She paused, her chest hitching. “But I was wrong, Finn. I was wrong, and you’re the one who paid for it.”

Her shoulders slumped, her chest caving inward. “I should have known better. Do you know how much effort it takes to keep someone out of your heart? Almost as much as it takes to keep them in. Except for you.” Her voice softened to a whisper. “Keeping you in my heart—God, that’s effortless. How do you do that to me? How do you make me feel like I’m not broken?”

Finn’s chest rose sharply, his ragged cough tearing through the quiet. Rose froze, her eyes fixed on him.Another shuddering breath wracked him, his chest jerking beneath the oxygen mask.

His eyes fluttered open. Unfocused at first, his gaze roamed before locking onto hers. Recognition softened the confusion in his eyes.

“Rose?” His voice was hoarse, muffled behind the fogged mask.

“I’m right here.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, his wetsuit cold against her skin, and pressed her face into his neck. His pulse was strong against her cheek.Real. Beating.

The sobs she’d been holding back broke free, unspooling in gasps. “Right here.” She clung to him, her fingers gripping the slick material of his suit as if letting go might shatter the fragile connection between them. “Right here,” she repeated in a low voice, as if the words alone could hold him to her.

His arm came up, weak and tremulous, to circle her waist. “Hey,” he murmured into her hair. “I’m okay. My arm feels like a goddamn balloon, but I’ll survive.”

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