Page 86 of Cage the Storm
I didn’t notice. My teeth are chattering, my fingers numb. The baby kicks, a flutter of protest, and I choke back a sob.
“Hey.” Sophie tucks my head under her chin, the way she did when I first arrived and was frightened out of my mind. “He’s coming back. You know he is.”
“What if he doesn’t?” I question.
She grips my face, forcing me to meet her gaze. “Then we survive. Like we always do.”
But thewefractures without him. Without Nico, I’m half a soul.
The baby kicks again, harder this time, as if agreeing. I let Sophie drape a tattered blanket over me. Exhaustion drags atmy bones, but my mind won’t stop—images of Nico’s smile, his hands cradling my face, the way he murmursmogliejust before he thrusts inside of me.
“Close your eyes,” Sophie murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’ll watch the door.” I want to argue. But the warmth of the blanket and the drone of the safehouse heater pull me under.
Sleep comes in fragments.
Nico’s laugh, low and rich, as he spins me under the dim glow of a basement lamp. “Dance with me, Luna.”
The scent of his blood as he collapses in my arms, his voice slurring. “Run. Take the car?—”
Bria’s tear-stained face. “He saved me. He was a storm.”
Caterina’s sneer. “You’ll die like my Giovanni.”
I jolt awake, gasping, sweat slicking my hair to my neck. The room’s darker now, the only light spilling from the cracked kitchen door. Voices murmur, Amara and one of the guards.
“—three hours ago. No word since.”
“The compounds?”
“Gone. All of them. Burned to the ground.”
My heart stops. I sit up too fast, and the room spins. Sophie stirs in the armchair beside me.
“Luna? What’s wrong?”
I don’t answer. My bare feet slapping cold concrete as I stagger into the kitchen: Amara and the guard freeze mid-conversation.
“Where is he?” My voice fractures. Amara’s face gives nothing away, but the guard speaks up.
“Wrapping things up. He’ll be here by dawn.”
“Liar.” The word is a snarl. “You saidno word. If the compounds are burned to the ground, where’sNico?” He steps closer, his gaze flicking to my stomach.
“He’s alive. And he sparedoneperson from the fire, your mother. She’s en route here with the rest of the staff.” The guard’s unsure how much information he should divulge.
“Intel says she begged for mercy. Offered names, accounts. Nico let her live. For now.”
My throat tightens. Nico was kind enough to spare my mother, but I’m not sure how I feel about that. Should we treat her as a prisoner or an ally?
Sophie appears behind me, her hand firm on my shoulder. “And the others? D’Angelo’s men?”
Amara smiles. “What others?”
The unspoken truth coils in the air.Dead. All dead.
I press my hand to the wall, steadying myself. “When will they arrive?”
“Soon.” Amara checks her watch. “But if you collapse before then, Nicolai will kill us all for not keeping you calm. Sit.”
