Page 12 of Lords of Ruin: Cherished

Cast doesn’t letanyonecall him that. No one but Willow. No one but Rosemary—the only two women he’s evertruly loved.

His nostrils flare, his fists clenching so tightly I hear his knuckles crack. “What thefuckdid you just call me?”

I hold his stare, my smirk widening. “You heard me.”

For a moment, I think he’s going to swing.Wanthim to. I see it in the way his muscles coil, his chest rising and falling in short, sharp breaths.

He takes a step back, running his tongue over his teeth, shaking his head with a bitter smirk. “Yeah,” he mutters, voice dripping with amusement. “You’re fucking dead when she’s done with you.”

He doesn’t wait for me to respond. He just turns and storms toward the elevators, shoving past anyone in his way.

I roll my shoulders, exhaling sharply.

I glance at the receptionist, who still looks like he might piss himself, and give him a slow, easy smile. “You gonna listen to him?”

The man hesitates, clearly terrifiedof the answer.

“Yeah, regardless of what you do he may still kill you so…” I shrug, moving around the desk towards the elevators.

I roll my neck, exhaling slowly as I weigh my options.Sneak into Willow’s room?I know where she is, know which hallway to take, which doors to slip through. If I time it right, I could get past the nurses—talk to her for evenfive minutes.

But if I get caught?

I could get banned from the hospital entirely.And then what?I’d be stuck outside, waiting for secondhand updates like some irrelevant bystander while the love of my life lies in a bed upstairs, fighting for hers.

My jaw clenches.

I can’t risk that.

Not yet.

I rake a hand through my hair, biting back the frustration clawing at my ribs. If I can’t see Willow, then I might as well deal with theotherproblem standing between us—Cast.

With a slow breath, I turn and start down the hall toward Damien’s room.

The hallway is quieter here, the steady hum of machines and the occasional beeping of monitors filling the space. The door is cracked open, the light from inside spilling onto the polished floor. Then I see her and my world lurches to a stop. The air in my lungs vanishes. The floor tilts beneath me.

Willow. My Willowis sitting there holding Damien’s hand.

She’s sitting there, but she isn’t—at least not the Willow I remember. Not the woman who once met myfury with fire, who fought me with every ounce of her defiance. This version of her is... wrong. A shadow. A ghost.

Her skin is paper-thin, stretched over sharp bones, and her cheeks are hollow, drained of color. The vibrant spark that used to dance in her eyes—the one that once taunted me, challenged me—is gone.

I feel it like a punch to the gut. For a second, I swear my heart forgets to beat.

She looks sick. Weak. Like life has been siphoned from her, leaving only this fragile shell behind.

I can’t move. I can’t speak. I have to force myself to remember that I came to check on Damien.

Beside her, he lies motionless, his body twisted in a way that suggests he’s been through hell. His chest rises and falls, but each breath seems shallow, strained, like the very act of breathing is something he has to fight for. I can’t tell if he’s alive or just barely clinging to existence. It doesn’t matter—he isn’t moving.

I try to speak, try to break through the fog that seems to settle over my mind, but no words come. My throat feels tight, suffocating. How has this happened? Where have things gone wrong? I can’t process it all fast enough. My eyes flick over to Cast who was here before me, expecting him to be the one to take charge, to move, to fix things. But he stands there, just as frozen as I am. His eyes are locked on Willow, his body rigid, his lips parted like he’s about to speak but can’t form a single word.

“Cariña,” he finally chokes out, his voice hoarse, but that’s all he can manage.

And then she speaks. “Hi.”

It’s the softest of words, so faint that I’m not sure I’ve heard it correctly at first. She lifts her gaze to meet mine, and in that moment, it’s like everything in the room shifts. The dullness in her eyes clears just for an instant, and her lips curve upward into the faintest of smiles. A smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, but one that’s enough to make my chest tighten.

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