Page 98 of Storm of Stars
“Hey, love,” Thorne said quietly, brushing a shoulder against mine. “You okay?”
I nodded, but the motion felt like a lie. My legs refused to move.
“Jaxy,” Briar said softly, leaning down until she was eye level with him, brushing hair from his forehead. “Why don’t you and I go inside, get you signed in? Bex will be right behind us.”
Jax didn’t hesitate. He offered her that shy, crooked smile that I cherished and laced his hand with hers, disappearing through the door with Briar, whom he quickly took a liking too. He was just as desperate for a family as I was. And words couldn’t explain the joy I felt knowing that my Wildguard could be that family for both of us.
I watched until the door swung shut behind them, swallowing hard as decades of fear bubbled to the surface. Suddenly, I was shaking. Suddenly, I felt like I was falling.
Thorne was the first to move, looping strong arms around my waist and hauling me tight against him. I sank into the solid warmth of him as Ezra pressed in close, brushing the line of my spine with the palm of his hand. Zaffir was right there too, brushing hair out of my eyes and tucking it behind my ear.
“What’s wrong, Brexlyn?” Zaffir asked, voice low and soft, brushing the edge of my desperation.
“Are you alright?” Ezra asked quietly, brushing a kiss just below the angle of my jaw.
I pressed a shaking hand to my chest, forcing myself to draw breath when Zaffir’s voice came low and commanding. “Breathe for us, baby.”
I tried. The air came in ragged, felt like swallowing broken glass. But I kept going until it was deep enough to sting, until I felt the sting of tears burning my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I finally whispered, brushing the heels of my hands across my damp cheeks. “I should be over the moon right now. This is what we’ve been fighting for. This is why we kept going. But…”
“Love,” Thorne said, brushing the side of my face with the tips of his fingers. “You don’t owe us an explanation. You don’t owe an apology for being scared.”
“What do you need?” Zaffir pressed, brushing a hand down the curve of my spine.
I shook my head, swallowing hard, looking from one to the next until my gaze landed on Ezra. “I don’t know,” I confessed, voice shaking. “I’m just… scared.”
“You’re scared,” Ezra repeated quietly, brushing hair out of my eyes.
I met those deep green eyes and felt the weight of every unspoken thought settle between us.
Ezra pulled me closer, brushing a kiss to the side of my temple as he spoke. “That’s what you’re afraid of,” he said, voice low, soft and sure. “That after all this fighting, after every second we’ve survived, after every night you refused to give up on him… you’re afraid it’s too late.”
I nodded, leaning harder into him as the sting bubbled into quiet sobs. The three of them surrounded me, pressed close until the shaking ebbed and the terror gave way to something quieter, smaller.
Thorne pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “He’s going to be okay, Brexlyn. Whatever happens, we’re here. We’re with you.”
Zaffir framed my face with long, warm hands, brushing away a stray tear.
Ezra pressed closer from behind, resting a hand on my waist, brushing his nose along the shell of my ear as he spoke, low and soft. “That boy is here because you refused to give up on him.”
I drew a breath then, deeper than the one before, brushing the sting of fresh tears from my lashes as I pressed into the circle of the people I loved. The world was still broken. The ruins of Praxis still haunted every corner of this city. But right here,pressed between the three men who refused to let me carry this weight alone, I felt my feet finding solid ground.
With my hands tangled with theirs and their support guiding me, we stepped across the threshold into the hospital.
“Jax!”I called, leaning out the door as I watched him and Thorne chasing after a scuffed old ball across the lawn. “You heard what the doctor said. You need to rest after treatments, remember?”
He didn’t reply at first, focusing every ounce of concentration on aligning himself, wobbling for a moment before swinging a leg. The ball rolled forward, wobbly but strong, and Thorne let out an approving whoop as it bumped to a halt just shy of him.
“He also said ‘controlled exercise’ was important for rebuilding strength,” Thorne called out, grinning like the proud big brother he was quickly becoming.
“Traitor,” I sighed, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth as Jax looked back at me, brushing hair from his sweaty forehead, grinning like he wasn’t in the constant pain I knew he felt.
Briar, perched nearby, offered a slow clap and a wink, as she shuffled closer to snag the ball.
The doctors weren’t shy about how hard the years had been on Jax, how much damage had been done by going so long without the treatment he needed. The illness had progressed further than any of us would’ve hoped. But despite it all, they were hopeful. Hopeful that we could give him more years, more moments to laugh, to play, to tease, to just be a kid surrounded by people who cherished him.
How many more? They couldn’t say. No one could. But it didn’t matter. Whatever time he had left would be ours to fill with warmth, with belonging, with a love that refused to run out. Every breath he drew was a gift, and every single day we got to spend with him would always be enough.
