Page 152 of Untamed

That one lands harder than I expect.

I swallow. “No. Because standing up to my father would’ve meant going against him, and that kind of defiance wasn’t something any of us got away with. In our world, you don’t say no. You bleed.”

My hand keeps threading through her hair, slower now, almost absent. Like I’m using her touch to keep me tethered to the present. “Unlike me, Enzo was raised to be the golden child. The one who was supposed to charm, to shine. My father needed him to be spotless. Untouched. And while he was taught to smile and negotiate, I was trained to slaughter and exist in the shadows.”

I exhale sharply when Jordyn’s fingers brush along my beard. “That’s not fair,” she says quietly. “To either of you.”

I let out a hollow laugh. “No. It’s not. But it’s the truth. It’smytruth.”

Jordyn’s hand slides up my chest, pressing over my sternum, like she’s trying to take some of the weight off.

She lifts her head again, her eyes locked on mine, searching, seeing everything. She lifts her head again, her eyes locked on mine, searching, seeing everything.

I hold her gaze, even though every part of me wants to look away. She doesn’t flinch at the weight of what I’ve said. She just looks at me like I’m still worth holding onto, even with blood on my hands and darkness under my skin.

“That’s why you keep him at arm’s length,” she says. Not accusing. Just… knowing.

I nod once, slowly. “It’s easier than pretending we’re the same because we’re not. We may share the same blood, but we were raised like soldiers, not brothers. We haven’t been brothers since I was five years old and I would run into his room when our father came home drunk and ireful.”

Jordyn winces, her fingers curling slightly against my chest, like she’s trying to hold that truth with me.

“Do you ever miss him?”The question hits harder than I expect.

I swallow, eyes drifting to the ceiling.

“Every fucking day.”

I feel her breath catch, feel the weight of what I’ve just admitted linger between us. I’ve never said that out loud to anyone, not even myself.

My eyes lower and I look at her again, this gorgeous girl with soft eyes and a steel spine, and I hate that she’s the first person who’s ever made me feel safe enough to say it.

“I miss the version of him that didn’t turn away. The version of him that wasn’t scared of who our father made me.”

Her brows pull together, and she nods in understanding.

“You have every right to be angry and resentful,” she whispers. “But that doesn’t mean you have to stay alone.”

I don’t answer right away. I just stare at her. At the girl who has no idea what kind of hell I’ve walked through and still chooses to sit in the ashes with me anyway.

My hand slides up, brushing her hair back behind her ear.

“You’re the first and only thing in my life I don’t want to push away, bambina,” I admit earnestly. Jordyn smiles, leans up, and her lips find mine, soft and fervent.

And for the first time in years, I kiss someone without needing to disappear after.

Morning breaks slowly, pouring gold through the curtains and bathing her skin in light. Jordyn’s still draped over me, bare and soft, her breathing steady and even. She’s never looked more peaceful.

I don’t move. Not for a long time.

I just lie there, watching her.

The way she sleeps, like she trusts the world not to hurt her. Like she trustsmenot to hurt her.

My fingers drift lazily through her hair again, brushing it off her face, and my heart tightens at the sight of her lips slightly parted, lashes casting faint shadows over her cheeks.

She stirs a little, shifting against me with a sleepy hum that slides straight into my bloodstream. I feel her stretch, her bare thigh sliding over mine, and then her voice, muffled and soft.

“You’re staring,” she mumbles against my chest.

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