Page 54 of Fired at the Heart

Raphael’s breathing slows to almost nothing, each exhale a ghost of the last. The tremors subside as his muscles succumb to the drug, and his skin takes on a bluish pallor, his lips parted in a silent plea.

I kneel beside him, close enough to touch but maintaining a final inch of separation. His eyes find mine, and instead of accusation, hatred, or even fear, understanding shines in their depths.

My throat constricts, hot tears burning at the edges of my vision, but I blink them back, refusing to let them fall. Refusing to show weakness now, in this final moment.

“I would have loved you forever,” I whisper, the words a confession. “In a different world. A different life where you chose me.”

Raphael’s lips curve, not quite a smile, and his hand twitches toward mine, fingers curling upward in an invitation I can’t accept.

As the light begins to fade, those hazel depths growing distant, I catalog each change. The slowing rise and fall of his chest. The relaxing of tension from his shoulders. And the final, soft exhale that carries my name.

Then stillness.

17

“He’s dead,” Lena announces, the words echoing through the empty warehouse.

I keep staring at Raphael, at the stillness of his chest, the slight curl of the fingers reaching toward me, and an aching emptiness spreads through my body.

“Avery?” Lena prompts.

“Not yet,” I murmur.

If I panic now, all of this was for nothing.

Lena checks the counter on her phone. “We have maybe five minutes. We need to be out of here before then.”

Five minutes to end five years. It doesn’t seem fair, but nothing about me and Raphael has ever been fair. When Raphael abandoned me for family reputation, for the clean Rockford name, for everything that wasn’t me, he made his choice.

And now I’ve made mine.

I reach behind my neck to touch the smooth skin where Raphael Marked me years ago, claiming me as his mate.

Beneath my fingertips, my skin begins to burn white-hot as if I’m being branded. Receiving my three Marks had come with a rush of pleasure. Of course, the end of us would bring more pain.

I grit my teeth, refusing to utter a sound as our bond dissolves. The physical pain is nothing compared to what follows, though, as a wave of loss crashes over me, memories flooding through my consciousness as the neural pathways created by the bond break apart.

Raphael laughing in our bed, sunlight streaming through the windows. His tender voice telling me I’m everything. His hands, strong and sure, guiding my hips as I rode him. The look in his eyes the last time he saw me, before he chose the Rockford legacy over the life we’d built together.

A gasp escapes, but no air enters my lungs. I can’t breathe. Can’t feel my heart beat through the crushing loss. I fall forward, my fingers finally brushing Raphael’s as I catch myself, and they’re so still.

Lena reaches across his body to grip my shoulder. “Breathe. You are not allowed to lie down and die next to him.”

I nod, wheezing as I fight through the pain. The burning sensation intensifies, spreading from my Mark down my spine, across my shoulders, and into my chest. My lungs constrict, threatening to collapse.

This is how bonds break, not with a clean snap but with a slow, agonizing tear. Neuron by neuron, cell by cell.

Lena checks her timer again. “Two minutes.”

The burning peaks, so intense that copper coats my tongue from where I bit the inside of my cheek. Then, like a rubber band stretched to its limit, the bond inside me snaps.

The pain vanishes, replaced by a terrible emptiness. A void where a crucial piece of me used to be.

I lift a trembling hand to touch the back of my neck again. Where the Mark was, only a barren patch of skin remains. The connection I carried for years through our separation has lifted.

It should leave me lighter. Instead, I’m dead inside.

“It’s done.” The words come out flat.

---