Page 8 of The Shadow King's Brother

“Look at me. You’re just overwhelmed. Calm down,” Nica says, her eyes locked on mine.

I clench my fists, my knuckles grinding against my palms.

“I’m fuckin’ fine, I said!”

“I know you’re scared—” Nica says, her thumb brushing against my cheek with a gentle, reassuring stroke.

“I’m not scared,” I lie, the words tasting like ashes on my tongue.

I’m dying inside. I’m about to break apart into a million pieces, and this will not end well.

“It’s not Alana—you can protect Celeste. This time, nothing will happen. I’ll make sure of it, and you will too,” she says, her eyes locking with mine. “This is what we’ve worked for this whole time. For her to be safe. And she will be.”

Nica always knows what to say.

“How can you know?” I ask.

The quiet stretches out like a violin string, ready to snap with the slightest pressure. I glance up just as a tall nurse strides past, her badge swinging like a pendulum. A stocky doctor follows close behind, adjusting his round glasses. He mutters something under his breath, rubbing his temples as if trying to push back the weight of another endless shift.

“I don’t know for sure,” Nica says, “But we’ll try our best, and that’s going to be fucking good enough. Gio will watch over her, 24/7. And Steven, too.” She’s already thinking ahead, planning, and strategizing. Somehow, her confidence calms whatever is brewing inside me.

It’s like she knows me better than I know myself.

“Right,” I say, not entirely convinced but not resistant to her suggestions either.

“It’ll be okay, Elio. Now, let’s get back and see that little baby-wonder again. I think it’s my turn to hold her.”

I almost smile. Almost.

I pull her into me, placing a hand on her back, keeping her close. My thumb brushes over her lips, and I lock onto her eyes, never looking away.

“You know I love you? Even when you’re annoying?” I murmur.

She arches an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “You call me being on your side annoying?” she says, swatting at me playfully. “Well, get ready because I’m gonna be annoyingly on your side for the rest of your life.”

Her words stick, sparking something deeper that I can’t quite put into words. I cup her face gently, my thumb tracing the curve of her cheek. “The rest of my life, huh?” I echo, the words tasting sweeter than I expected.

Did she just say that? And, more importantly, did she mean it?

I stay silent a beat too long. She steps back slightly, her hand slipping into mine.

“Come on, let’s get back in there,” she says, “and you need to learn who the hell Thomas is,orwork on your temper.”

“Right,” I stutter, realizing I was supposed to laugh. But her words—for the rest of your life—keep echoing in my head. I swallow hard, keeping my eyes straight ahead, not daring to meet hers.

Rest. Of. Your. Life.

We enter the room, and I take a deep breath, trying to regain control and lock away my emotions. I can do this; I have to. Not for me, but for her, for them.

My mother is stable, her eyes are closed, and her breathing steady. But my instincts kick in, and my eyes automatically scan the seemingly room. Thomas is still there, standing off to the side. His posture is stiff, and his gaze goes to the door like he’s waiting for something to happen.

I nod in his direction. “Thomas.”

“Mr. De Luca,” he answers.

A nurse enters, a blonde with bright eyes, carrying a tray with food.

“Where is the food from?” I ask. “Who told you to bring it?”

---