Page 159 of BounBound By Scars

But this time, it wasn’t his words that cut me off.

It was the sound.

A harsh, guttural roar tore from Dylan’s throat, unfiltered and animal.

His eyes were wild—frantic. Like he wasn’t fully there. Like he was unraveling in real time.

He looked feral.

My heart pounded. Not from fear of dying—but from knowing how close he was to breaking completely.

“Dylan,” Ghost’s voice came, quiet, almost a whisper. “Stand down.”

I didn’t take my eyes off Dylan.

But I was grateful.

Grateful that Ghost hadn’t drawn his weapon. That he wasn’t barking orders. That, at least for now, he wasn’t believing I was a traitor.

I just hoped that would still be true in the next thirty seconds.

Because Dylan looked ready to end this—one way or another.

“I’m not rogue,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

The gun didn’t move.

Dylan’s eyes stayed locked on me, unblinking, hollow. His finger didn’t even twitch on the trigger—it was already resting there. Solid. Sure.

“Dyl,” I said again, stepping slightly closer. “I never betrayed you. Ineverbetrayedanyof you.”

Nothing. Not a flinch. Not a word.

“Look at me, brother,” I pleaded, desperation cutting into my voice. “You know me. Youknowme.”

Still nothing. His jaw was locked, his breathing ragged, chest rising and falling like he was trying to hold something in—or force something out.

I took another slow step, eyes flicking briefly to Zarek and Zane. No movement from them. Waiting. Watching. Trusting me to de-escalate this.

I turned back to Dylan, lowering my voice, trying to reach him through whatever fog he was drowning in.

“I didn’t turn. I am playing their game to protect you. To protect Amelia. Zarek. Logan. Everyone. I didn’t have a choice. Please—”

And then, finally, he spoke—a breath more than a voice, his face twisted in something between anguish and surrender.

Just a broken whisper.

“What have they done to us?”

I didn’t even have time to answer.

Crack.

The gunshot echoed down the alley like a thunderclap.

Something exploded in my chest.

I staggered back, a strangled sound leaving my throat as white-hot pain ripped through my shoulder—just beneath the collarbone.

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