Page 1 of Unleashed
Chapter 1
EVERLY
Iwake to the sound of silence.
No gunfire. No screams. No blades overhead or boots on tile. Just the soft thrum of heat coming from somewhere behind the wall and the gentle sigh of my own breath echoing in the room.
My surroundings are a blur at first as I open my eyes. My head feels like it's packed with wool, and my body protests every twitch, every minor adjustment I make to lessen the discomfort.
No gunfire. No screams.
Isaia.
I bolt upright. Pain shoots down my side, and a gasp rips from my throat, lungs straining, chest burning. I’m sore—deep, bone-deep—and drenched in sweat. But there’s no urgency. No chaos. Just stillness.
My heart thrashes against my ribs like it doesn’t believe any of this is real. Like it’s waiting for the chaos to blast through the walls. White, unfamiliar walls, with windows draped in sagecurtains, the fabric undisturbed. There’s no tropical breeze, no whiff of ocean air. And a bed that smells nothing like Isaia.
I’m not on the island anymore.
I blink hard, gripping the sheets like they’ll tell me where I am, but nothing comes. No memories. No thoughts creating a clear picture. But there’s this tight band around my chest, almost like it’s…remnants of panic and fear.
Disbelief.
“Anthony.” I breathe out his name like it’s a dream. A nightmare. Something in between. “He’s…he’s?—”
“Everly?”
I freeze. My mind homed in on that familiar voice.
It can’t be.
Slowly, I turn, my heart beating impossibly fast. It’s when my eyes find him that my thoughts finally settle into a single reality. “You’re alive?”
He smiles, and it’s the warmest thing I’ve seen since…I can’t even remember. “Of course I’m alive.”
“But…” I narrow my eyes as I throw my feet off the bed. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
“What? Dead?” He seems confused.
“Isaia.” I inch closer slowly, scared he’ll disappear, frightened I can’t trust…whateverthis is. “He said you were…” My breath hitches. “He said you were dead.” I barely feel the tear trickling down my cheek. I don’t want to think of anything else except that Anthony’s right here, standing in front of me. “He said…”
“Oh, Everly.” Abruptly, he reaches for me and pulls me against his chest, a thud sounding as he wraps his arms tightly around me. And that’s when it starts to sink in, when his warmth envelops me, penetrating bone, that he’s alive. He’s really alive. This isn’t a dream. This isn’t my fractured mind playing tricks on me. It’s really him.
Sobs break free as relief flows, memories flooding in—memories of him, of us, two teenagers with a bond that saved us both. A bond that helped me through the darkest days, a bond that kept reminding him that he’s not like the other men in our world.
“I thought I lost you,” I cry, winding my arms around his waist, holding tight so he won’t vanish.
“Shhh,” he comforts me, his fingers woven through my hair as he keeps me wrapped against him. “I’m here,” he murmurs. “Everything’s okay.”
“I can’t believe you’re here. You’re really here.” I look up at him, his familiar features washing over me. “He told me you were dead.” I push back, at arm’s length. “I saw you. I saw him shoot you. The blood. There was so much blood.”
That soul-breaking image bombards my mind, and it’s cracking me wide open all over again while Anthony stares at me with furrowed brows.
I choke on a sob. “I tried to get to you. I tried to help you, but I…he…God, Anthony, I…”
“Come on, Everly.” He pulls me close again, and I cry against his chest. “I’m alive. I’m here. And you’re safe now. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
My heart stammers as a weight crushes my chest. “Isaia,” I whisper. “Does he know you’re alive?”
