Page 94 of The Devil's Wrath

“Trust me, getting shot is not an experience I’m eager to repeat,” I said dryly.

“Good. Because if you die on me, I’ll bring you back just to kill you myself.” Despite the harsh words, I could see the genuine fear and relief warring in his eyes.

“Duly noted,” I said, giving him a small salute and then wincing when the slight movement sent pain through my abdomen. “What about Connor? Is he really . . .?”

“Dead,” Theo confirmed. “I made sure of it. He can’t hurt you or anyone else ever again.”

I released a shaky breath. “Good. That’s good.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t kill that piece of shit sooner,” he apologized.

“Don’t be. I’m not.”

He looked at me, his eyes searching my face.

“Killing him should never have been your burden to bear, Theo. I’m just glad it’s finally over.”

He nodded, but I could still see the guilt lingering in his gaze. He would always feel responsible for not protecting me, even when it had been impossible. That was just the kind of man he was. Fiercely loyal and protective.

My brother cleared his throat. “Well, now that you’re awake, I need to run some tests. And Theo, Archer is summoning you to his office. He said it was urgent.”

Theo’s jaw clenched at the mention of Archer, but he nodded stiffly. “I’ll be back soon,” he promised, kissing me gently. With apparent reluctance, he released my hand and stood. He exchanged a loaded glance with my brother before striding out of the room, his broad shoulders taut.

As soon as Theo was gone, my brother turned to me, his expression serious. “How are you really feeling, Wren?”

I sighed, sinking against the pillows. “Like I’ve been run over by a train.”

He nodded, picking up my chart and scanning it with a critical eye. “Your vitals are looking good. The surgery went well. Theo gave you his blood, thank god.”

I studied his face as he worked, noting the dark circles under his eyes and the lines of strain around his mouth. He looked as exhausted as I felt.

“How long was I out?” I asked quietly.

He paused, not meeting my gaze. “Almost two days.”

I inhaled sharply. Two days. No wonder he looked so wrecked. It hadn’t seemed like two days in the void. It had seemed like I’d only been there for a few hours

“Gage, I’m so sorry?—”

He cut me off with a sharp shake of his head. “Don’t. Just . . . don’t.” He blew out a heavy breath, finally lifting his gaze to mine. His eyes were bright with unshed tears. “You scared the hell out of me, Wren. I thought . . . I mean, what the hell were you doing taking a bullet for Theo when you’re pregnant?”

I stared at my brother in shock. “H-how did you know?”

His eyes softened. “I’m a doctor, Wren. The blood tests confirmed it,” he said gently. “You’re about six weeks along. The bullet missed everything vital, including the baby. It’s a miracle, really.”

I placed a trembling hand onto my stomach, still flat beneath the thin hospital gown. “Does he know?” I asked hoarsely.

Gage shook his head. “No. I didn’t tell him.”

“You can’t tell him!”

“What do you mean I can’t tell him? If my assumptions are correct, he’s the father, Wren. He has the right to know.”

“I know that,” I snapped, my frustration mounting. “But now is not the time. We’re in the middle of a war, Gage. The last thing Theo needs is another distraction or vulnerability.”

My brother scoffed. “Another vulnerability? Wren, that man would walk through fire for you. Finding out you’re carrying his child isn’t going to be a ‘distraction,’ it’s going to give him even more of a reason to fight like hell to keep you safe and end this shit once and for all.”

I closed my eyes, exhaustion, pain, and the weight of too many secrets pressing down on me. “Please, Gage,” I whispered. “I’m begging you. Let me be the one to tell him when the time is right. He needs to hear it from me.”