Page 10 of Bound By Ruin

“He’s a goddamn soldier,” I hiss, slamming my fist on the table. “Out of everyone here, he’s the one who takes the worst hits and keeps fucking going, because that’s what he does best. He keeps on living despite every painful breath it fucking takes.” Anger makes my blood pressure rise, and I lace my fingers together to keep from bashing my knuckles against Mikhail’s pretty face. “We arenotleaving him here with a target the size of Texas on his back.”

“Ruin comes with us,” Celia agrees, looking between me and Mikhail. There’s a spark of determination in her eyes that sends a rush of pride through me all over again. “He’s got more motive to kill the man than any of us sitting here.”

Rebel rouses himself enough to chime in. “Fucking right, he’s coming with us.” Pressing a kiss to Celia’s cheek, he smirks and whispers something in her ear to make her blush. I kick his shin, and he grins, tossing me a wink.

Cheeky bastard.

Without warning, Thanatos stands from his seat and bolts around the table towards the hallway. I jump up and pull out my gun, expecting to find my father’s cruel smile taunting me from across the room. The longer we sit here, the closer he undoubtedly gets. It’s only a matter of time before he finds us, and then?—

“Ruin!” Celia gasps, both she and Rebel jumping to their feet as my youngest brother shuffles across the concrete floor in an attempt to make it to the table. He’s rolling two IV poles in front of him, his back arched and his breathing shallow as he leans on them for support. Thanatos reaches him first, looping Ruin’s arm over his shoulders to hold him up. Rebel takes his other arm while Celia slips between them both, damn near crashing into his chest. At first, she hovers there without touching him, her hands frozen in midair. Then Ruin dips ever so slightly, folding his body over hers in a gradual collapse. If it weren’t for my brothers holding him up, I have no doubt that Ruin would engulf her like a wave crashing over the shore as it gives into the pull of gravity.

All of my brothers are quickly giving into Celia’s magnetism, evenThanatos, in his own way. It’s an inevitability for us and always has been, really. But instead of fighting that pull, Celia is finally learned to accept it. Toembraceit, just like she’s trying to do with Ruin right now. She carefully wraps her arms around Ruin’s torso and allows him to fall into her at his own pace, the two of them sharing a moment unlike any I’ve ever seen. For once, Rebel isn’t twitching with impatience for the next step; he’s joining them in the embrace, hooking his arm over Celia’s hips and sliding into place beside them.

Thanatos is the one who doesn’t move, stiff as a board as he watches their display of affection. Conflict wars in his eyes until Celia reaches out her hand and grabs the hem of his shirt, pulling him closer. He doesn’t hug any of them but takes a deep, full-bodied breath and places his open palm on Celia’s lower back.

A part of me is jealous that Celia ran to Ruin so quickly, but if there’s one thing I’ll never begrudge her, it’s loving my brothers as much as I do.

More than I do.

Slowly, I tear my gaze away from the tender scene unfolding and tap my fingertips on the table to draw Mikhail’s attention. “Like I said.” I don’t bother hiding my smirk. “Ruin is coming with us.”

Chapter5

Ruin

The first thingI feel when I wake up is the heat. Sometimes, when my body fully remembers itself—every ligament, every tendon, every millimeter of skin and muscle and bone—that’s all I feel. The memory of the flames licking across my skin. I know it isn’t real, because my body hasn’t fully been mine since that night twelve years ago.

Part of it belongs to me, but the fire stole the rest.

This time, however, the throbbing heat has a pulse. Every thick layer of flesh on my body burns with unmistakable heat, the topmost layers of skin having melted away to reveal the wet flesh underneath, my blood boiling and turning to steam, clouding my vision so that all I see is a red haze and all I taste is charred flesh. I crack through the plate of rust covering my eyes and blink up at a starless sky, knowing that even if the fire is out, I’m still burning on the inside.

A part of me will always be burning.

Voices float through the air, obscuring the erratic beat of a heart monitor, O2 sensors, and every other wire connecting me to life. The doctors and nurses in the room watch with bated breath as I pull at the cords, a few of them helping disconnect me, while a few others ensure that I keep the most important needles and tubes embedded in my skin.

I don’t much care for them, can barely feel the tug inside my veins and the pull on my skin, but on some level, I understand the necessity.

What am I without a body to ground me to the earth?

I still need answers to questions I cannot ask, so for now, I relent.

But that doesn’t mean I stop moving.

Her face is like a beacon in the darkness, calling me closer. I can hear voices—all familiar—but there’s only one I truly listen for as I shuffle from one room to the next, the weight of my muscles finally settling onto the bones, making it harder and harder to move as the drugs the doctors have given pump through my system.

I’m not supposed to be awake—but I am.

I’m not supposed to bealive—and yet.

She’s standing in front of me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears and her gentle hands hovering on the precipice of touch. My body aches for more than the pain, and suddenly, it’s as though I’m falling, falling, falling—into her open arms.

Everything hurts, but this—the press of her lips on my forehead, the ghost of her breath across my bare cheek, the way her soul stares into mine—somehow,thishurts a little less.

I think I might be ready fora little lessand then, maybe,a little more, too.

In time.

Celia takes a breath, her bronze eyes shimmering like pennies in the rain. “You shouldn’t be up yet.” She slips her hand in mine and leads me to one of the beds lined up in neat rows like narrow coffins, unaware that the only thing I see in The Box is Death, and the only thing I hear are its rattled moans whispering secrets about the other side. I don’t tell her this, because I don’t want her to hear them, too.

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