Page 47 of Crushed Vow
For a heartbeat, I forgot to breathe.
Something in my chest cracked open—soft and stupid and painful.
Because I remembered his face at the door. The way his voice almost broke.
The same man who once mocked my scars now begging for a place in my pain.
I hated how it got to me.
How I felt it.
How part of me still wanted him to be the one who found me.
My hands trembled.
No.
No.
I tore the note in half—once, then again—and again.
Each rip louder than the one before. A war drum in my ears.
Then I dropped it.
Let the petals curl around it like mourning fingers.
Left the flowers where they lay.
And stormed past them—jaw tight, heart pounding, eyes burning, as I rushed out of the hotel.
The cab ride was a blur.
I sat in the backseat, gripping the edge of my seat like it would keep my insides from falling apart. The driver muttered something about the woods being dangerous this late. I barely heard him. My head was filled with Ethan’s voice. His pain. That bullet.
I couldn’t afford to think. Only move.
When the car finally rolled to a stop near the end of the trail, the world was cloaked in mist and moonlight. I stepped out, the scent of damp earth and pine needles wrapping around me like smoke.
I walked. Fast. Then faster. Branches snagged at my sleeves. My shoes were already soaked through, but I didn’t care. My lungs were burning.
And then—I saw him.
Slumped against a fallen tree. Blood staining the back of his shirt. One hand braced weakly in the dirt.
“Ethan!” I rushed forward, nearly slipping on the slope as I dropped to my knees beside him.
His face was pale, eyes heavy with pain. “You came.”
“Of course I did!” I snapped, voice shaking. My heart felt like it was splintering inside my chest. “God, Ethan... Cassian warned us. The Bratva don’t play fair.”
I pressed a trembling hand to his chest, searching for breath. Weak, but there.
“You’re going to be okay. I’m going to get you help. Just hold on.”
My hands were shaking as I pressed them to his wound, trying to stop the bleeding.
Ethan gave a ghost of a smile, blood staining his teeth. “You look... better than I do.” His voice barely scraped out, dry and cracked.
