Page 95 of The Devil's Wrath

There was a long beat of silence. I opened my eyes to find my brother studying me intently, conflict playing out across his features. Finally, he sighed. “Fine. It’s not my secret to tell. But, Wren, don’t wait too long. He deserves to know, and you’ll need his support through this. Especially now.” He dragged a hand down his face, looking suddenly older than his twenty-nine years. “You can’t keep taking these kinds of risks. Not now. Not when you have a child to think about.”

I bit my lip, my hand drifting back down to rest on my stomach. He was right. I knew he was. But at that moment, not knowing I waspregnant, when I had seen Connor’s gun aimed at Theo, I hadn’t thought. I’d just reacted. “I know. But I couldn’t let him die. I love him.”

“And there’s no doubt he loves you. Which is why he’s going to be furious when he finds out you risked not only your life but the life of his unborn child.” His tone was gentle but firm.

“I didn’t know I was pregnant,” I said quietly.

“Wh-what do you mean you didn’t know? You just said?—”

“Mom told me.”

He looked at me like I had grown a second head. “What are you talking about, Wren? Mom’s dead.”

I swallowed hard, knowing how crazy it must have sounded. “When I was . . . wherever I was, in that place between life and death, I saw her, Gage. I talked to her.”

His brow furrowed in concern. “You were unconscious. Your brain was deprived of oxygen from losing so much blood. It’s common to have vivid dreams or hallucinations in that state.”

I shook my head vehemently, wincing as the movement jostled my wound. “No, it wasn’t a dream or a hallucination. It was real, Gage. As real as you and me right now. She told me . . . she told me I was pregnant. That I had to fight to come back for the baby and Theo.”

He was silent. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head as his logical, medical brain tried to process what I was saying. “Okay,” he said finally, his voice carefully neutral. “Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that what you experienced was real. Why would Mom tell you about the baby but not want you to tell Theo?”

I bit my lip again, trying to find the right words. “That’s not her. It’s me.” I took a deep breath, meeting his gaze squarely. “I’m scared, Gage. Terrified, actually. This isn’t exactly how I pictured starting a family with Theo. We’re in the middle of a goddamn war. People are dying left and right. I just took a bullet that could have easily killed me and the baby. If they find out I’m pregnant with Theo’s child . . .” I trailed off, shuddering at the thought. Our child would become an instant target, a pawn to be used against us. The mere idea made me physically ill.

Gage sat on the edge of the bed, taking my hand in his. “I get it. Ido. But you can’t carry this burden alone. Theo deserves to know he’s going to be a father. He needs to be able to protect you both. But regardless of your choice, I’ve always got your back.”

“I don’t even know if I’ll be a good mom,” I confessed in a whisper. I was surprised at the raw vulnerability in my voice.

“Hey,” Gage said gently, squeezing my hand. “You are going to be an amazing mom. This kid is lucky to have you.”

I gave him a watery smile. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” he said firmly. “You’re strong, you’re loving, and you’ve got a heart big enough to encompass the whole damn world. That’s all a kid needs. The rest you’ll figure out as you go along, just like every other parent.”

His faith in me loosened some of the tightness in my chest. I knew he was right. My fear wasn’t really about my ability to be a good mother. It was about bringing a child into a world that seemed hell-bent on tearing itself apart. A world where the people I loved were constantly in danger, where we had to fight tooth and nail for every scrap of happiness and peace.

As he stood to walk away, I stopped him. “Mom told me to give you a hug from her, and she wanted me to tell you to open your heart up,” I blurted out.

Gage looked at me, his eyes widening, then softening. A mix of emotions seemed to flicker across his face—surprise, confusion, and, finally, a hint of wistfulness. He stood there silently, as if processing my words, his gaze distant. “She said that?” His voice was quiet, no more than a whisper.

I nodded, suddenly feeling a bit awkward. I hadn’t expected such a reaction from my usually stoic brother.

He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair, a gesture I recognized as a sign of his discomfort. “Did she say anything else?”

“To forgive yourself because they love you unconditionally. Whatever that means. And that dad couldn’t come, but he’s watching over us.”

Gage looked like he’d seen a ghost; his face paled and his mouthopened in shock before he quickly recovered. “Jesus, Wren. I-I don’t know what to make of this.”

“I know it sounds crazy, Gage. Believe me, I do. But I know what I saw. You can apply whatever scientific logic you need to to make it make sense to you. But Ifelther when she hugged me. It wasn’t oxygen deprivation or a trick in my mind. She was real. I could smell the perfume she used to wear, just like the night she died.”

Gage watched me, and a sad expression covered his face. But where there was sadness, there was also something else.

Guilt.

“What aren’t you saying, Gage?” I asked him.

His gaze shifted away from mine, and he seemed to struggle internally. One thing about my brother was that he wore his emotions on his face. Around everyone else, he could put on a face of stone—unreadable. But around me, the one person in his life he trusted, he couldn’t keep them from breaking through. The silence stretched between us, heavy and palpable. When he finally spoke, his voice was strained, barely above a whisper.

“I never told you this, Wren, but the night Mom and Dad died, we had a fight. A big one. I said some things I shouldn’t have, things I regret every day.” He paused, taking a shaky breath. “I never got the chance to apologize, to make things right.”

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