Page 78 of Beneath His Robes

And I was going to watch him burn for it. He and anyone else that hurt the man I loved.

I wouldn’t be the executioner. I was going to give this damning information to the detective and maintain my composure as I held onto Ronan while he healed. I made a promise to lead my flock, but God would have to forgive me this time. I was intent on leading these men straight to their own slaughter.

ChapterTwenty-Six

Ronan

I wasn’t sure what was happening. My head felt heavy, like it was filled with fog, and my body felt like it didn’t belong to me. A dull ache was everywhere—pain that had settled deep into my bones. It was like I’d been hit by something I couldn’t remember, and I didn’t know if I wanted to remember.

The first thing I became aware of was the warmth in my hand, the slight pressure. The touch was soft, familiar. I tried to focus tried to open my eyes, but it felt like moving through quicksand. I blinked a few times, my eyelids fluttering open with effort, and when my vision finally cleared, there was only one thing I could make out in the dim light of the hospital room.

Elias.

He was sitting there beside me, his head resting on his arm, his face haggard but peaceful. His strawberry hair had fallen in front of his eyes. It seemed longer than usual, disheveled and out of place. I could see the exhaustion in the way his shoulders slumped, the way his fingers gently curled around mine.

He looked…like he hadn’t slept in days. Like he had been holding himself together for me.

For us.

I didn’t know how long I’d been out, but something told me it had been too long. I could feel the thickness of my thoughts, like they were stuck in the mud, unable to break free. The memories hit me in fragmented flashes—my mother’s bruised face in the hospital bed, Jack’s violence, the prison, the chaos. But the more I tried to remember, the more the pieces slipped through my fingers.

I wanted to move, to speak, to do something, but my body refused to cooperate. I felt weak and fragile. But my hand, still in Elias’s grasp, gave me something to hold onto.

The last thing I remembered clearly was the pain—both in my body and in my heart—before everything faded to black.

“Elias…” I tried to whisper his name, but it came out like a croak, a broken sound that made my throat sting.

The effort alone exhausted me, but the moment I said his name, his head shot up. His eyes locked onto mine with such intensity and raw relief that it almost made me want to pull away and curl into myself again. But I couldn’t. Not with him so close. Not when he had been my anchor in all of this.

“Ronan?” his voice cracked, low and trembling, like he couldn’t quite believe I was awake.

He stood up quickly, brushing his hand through his hair like he was trying to make sure this wasn’t some dream.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I was too weak, too exhausted even to try. Instead, I squeezed his hand slightly, a small movement, but enough to communicate everything I couldn’t say.

Elias was here.

And for whatever reason, I was alive…if not whole.

He took a deep breath, a shaky exhale that sounded more like a sob than anything else. His thumb stroked the back of my hand, tracing the lines of my tattoos over and over again like he needed the reassurance, too. He leaned down close, his face hovering near mine, as if afraid I’d slip away again if he weren’t careful.

“Ronan,” he said again, his voice barely above a whisper now, as though speaking any louder might break the fragile moment. “You’re safe. You’re…you’re okay. I’m right here. I haven’t left you.”

I wanted to respond and tell him I could feel it. I could feel him here, with me, holding me together when everything else had been falling apart. But my throat was too dry, my head too fuzzy. I tried to smile, sending my message with my eyes.

I let out a soft breath, my eyes flickering closed again, a sense of comfort washing over me despite the confusion and pain ravaging my body.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay,” Elias said softly, his voice filled with both tenderness and relief.

His hand brushed over my forehead, pushing the damp strands of hair away. He was here. He was real. And even though everything felt like it had shattered, somehow, with him beside me, I was holding onto the only thing that had ever felt certain.

Elias looked at me, studied my eyes, and then his eyes moved to my lips. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to lean up and accept the unspoken question.

I didn’t know what had happened. I didn’t know how much time had passed or what Jack had done while I was gone. I didn’t know how things would go from here. But as I lay there, tethered to the present by Elias’s touch, I felt a glimmer of something inside me—something I hadn’t felt in what felt like forever.

Hope.

“I’m not going anywhere, Ronan,” Elias murmured, his voice like a promise, my anchor.

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