Page 21 of Lords of Ruin: Cherished

She whispers. “I know.”

“So you are fine.”

“No.”

“No?” My hands are shaking.My fucking hands are shaking.Because this isn’t justher.This ismy mother.This isthe last piece of her I have left.My vision tunnels, my heartbeat a violent roar in my ears.I can’t lose her.Iwon’t.

“Look there’s a trial,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “But there are no guarantees. And if it doesn’t work…”

I lurch forward, ignoring the blinding pain in my skull, grabbing her wrist—too thin, too delicate, too fucking wrong.“Trouble.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“Damien, get a hold of yourself,” Vincent’s voice breaks through the tension.

I barely register Cast’s low growl of frustration. “Vincent, shut up.” His voice is sharp, snapping like a whip. “He’snotin the mood for your bullshit right now.”

But all I can focus on is Willow. I can’t look away from her, can’t care about anything else. Her body is fragile in my grip, but she’sfightingto hold on. I’ll be damned if I let her slip away.

“Shut up, both of you,” I finally manage, my voice a low growl, more animal than man. “Just shut the fuck up.”

I don't care about Vincent's sharp intake of breath or Cast’s tension-filled growl. I can barelyhear anything over the pounding of my heart, the sharpness in my ears, the way everything feels like it’s closing in on me again.

It feels like my mother is dying all over again. That same slow ache, the hollowed-out feeling in my chest, the numbness that I can’t shake, no matter how hard I fight. It was supposed tosaveher—fixher. And here I am, standing at the edge of that same fucking cliff, watching the woman I love slip away, the last of the fragile pieces of my mother’s legacy disappearing with her.

And I can't—I can’t—watch this happen again. Not to her.

I pull her wrist tighter into my hand, desperate to hold on to her, to remind myself that she’s still here, still breathing, even if everything inside me screams that this is slipping through my fingers. “No,” I mutter, shaking my head against the tide of panic rising in my throat. “You’re not—you’re not...”

Willow’s eyes are wet, her face pale, and yet she still looks at me like I’m her lifeline. Like she’s trying to hold me together when I can’t even hold myself. Her lips tremble, and I feel the sob building in her chest, the breath hitching before she speaks, voice so small I barely hear her. “Damien...”

“I won’t lose you,” I say, the words ripping out of me, hoarse and raw. It’s a promise. A demand. A prayer. Whatever it takes. “You hear me? I won’t lose you.”

Her lips press together in a tight line, like she’s fighting her own tears. She doesn’t say anything for a long time, just breathes with me, her body shaking against mine. And then—then—she whispers again, quieter than before.

“I don’t want you to lose me either.” She swallows before looking back at Vincent, then Cast and then me. “But you all have to recognize that-”

“No,” we say in unison and she flinches at the rasp in our voices.

Cast pinches her chin and pulls her gaze to his. “Cariña, do you know what I would do before I just let you die?”

“Kill everyone in sight.” She whispers.

“No, I will pull my beating heart out of my chest and shove it into yours before I lose you.” Cast says in a stern tone that has Willow’s eyes wide. “You dying, is not an option.”

Willow blinks two times before sighing, and I can see it in her eyes that dying is the only option for her.

7

WILLOW

After a couple of days of tests, Damien was finally released from the hospital with strict orders not to return to the ice for at least a month. He moved from his corner room down the hall to mine, growling at any nurse who dared to tell him visiting hours were over.

Even now, after Dr. Marshall had to threaten him with security, he’s still there, just out of sight, lingering in the hallway, stubborn as ever. Cast is caught up with cartel matters, and Vincent is at some mandatory lunch with his parents, but Damien refuses to leave, refusing to budge even for a moment. No one can convince him that it’s time to go, least of all me. He’s going to wait, no matter how long it takes.

When I try to get him to go home, and believe me I have, he flashes a sneaky smirk at me and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, as he whispers.I can’t let you get into any more trouble, Trouble.

Lindsey secures the blood pressure cuff around my arm,pumping it up with practiced ease. “How are we feeling today?”

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