Page 106 of Goldrage
For a heartbeat, nothing happens. Then?—
The explosion knocks me back a step. Fire erupts from the estate’s windows, orange tongues licking at the night sky. The heat hits us even from here, a wave of destruction that makes my skin sting.
“Jesus,” I breathe, stumbling backward.
Adrian pulls me against him, keeping me steady as I watch. I can’t believe he rigged it. The whole fucking estate. Ready to burn at his command.
We stand there, all of us, watching the Harrow legacyslowly disintegrate. Flames devour the halls where generations of Harrow men created an infection they could spread to others—their children, their wives. The innocents.
All of it burns.
Lorenzo’s hand finds my elbow, and he glances between me and Adrian. “Come on,” he says gently. “We need to go.”
He guides us toward a black SUV. Roby climbs into the front passenger seat, his young face pale. Lorenzo slides behind the wheel.
Eleanora takes the middle row. She reaches for me as I climb in, her fingers wrapping around mine to lend me some of her strength. I squeeze back, grateful for her support through all of this. I no longer care what secrets she’s keeping, because she’s the best fucking friend anyone could ask for. I’m so thankful she’s in my life.
Adrian follows me in. His movements are mechanical, like he’s barely aware of what’s happening. His eyes are vacant as they stare down at the floor.
I take his hand. His fingers are ice against my palm. And his entire body is silently trembling.
The engine starts. We pull away from the burning estate, from the bodies being loaded into unmarked vans, from the end of the only life we’ve ever known.
I watch the flames until distance swallows them. Until all that’s left is smoke rising against stars.
The road stretches before us, dark and endless. I turn from the window to find Adrian still staring at nothing.
When the tears come, they come for both of us. The dam breaks all at once—great, heaving sobs that shakeour bodies until we can’t tell where his grief ends and mine begins. We fall into each other, a tangle of loss and relief and the terrible weight of survival.
Adrian’s arms wrap around me like he’s drowning. Like I’m drowning. Like we’re both going under and all we have is each other to hold onto. His tears wet my shoulder. Mine disappear into his ruined jacket.
We cry for Julian—the boy he was, the monster he became, the brother Adrian couldn’t save. We cry for Valentine and all his imperfect love. For the poison the Harrows spread through generations.
We cry because we’re alive. Because surviving feels like another kind of dying.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
DANTE
The sheets stick to my skin as I roll over to check the time. It’s nearly noon. I groan and cover my eyes with the crook of my elbow.
It has been three weeks, and I still wake expecting Julian’s voice down the hall. But I’m at Lorenzo’s estate and that’s hardly rational.
Also, my brother is gone.
The silence presses against my skull like a vise, and I know—God, I know—he’s never coming back.
I turn my face into the pillow. The cotton absorbs another round of tears I thought had dried up yesterday. Or was it the day before? Time bleeds together when you’re suffocating.
My head pounds with the familiar ache of too much crying. Behind my eyes, pressure builds until I think my skull might crack. That might be ideal; then some of this pain would leak out.
The curtains are still drawn so the room is covered in a film of gray. I can’t remember when I last opened them.Aurelia slips in sometimes, sets water on the nightstand, murmurs soft words I don’t deserve. Her own grief sits heavy in the slump of her shoulders, the shadows under her eyes, but she’s doing her best to care for me.
I should comfort her. Should be the man she needs. Instead, I curl deeper into myself, letting the mattress swallow me whole.
Julian.
His name echoes in the empty chamber of my chest. I see him everywhere—in the mirror when I catch my own eyes, in the way shadows fall across the bedroom floor, in the space between heartbeats where regret lives.
