Page 69 of Knuckles & Knives
Kieran follows in the second vehicle, and I know he’s already planning how to spin Viktor’s death to benefit our larger strategy against his uncle. Always thinking three moves ahead, always finding the angle that serves our interests.
“Are you really okay?” I ask Axel quietly as we near the facility.
He considers the question seriously. “I don’t know yet. Ask me in a few days when the shock wears off.” He pauses. “But, Raven? For the first time in ten years, I slept through the night last night. Before I left, I mean. No nightmares, no waking up in a cold sweat. Just peace.”
“That’s something.”
“That’s everything.” His hand finds mine in the darkness. “Having people who give a shit, having something worth protecting… it changes you. Makes the old wounds hurt less.”
I think about Dom taking a bullet for me, about Kieran betraying his family, about Marcus working himself toexhaustion to keep us all safe. About this strange, violent, impossible love we’ve built together.
“Yeah,” I agree. “It really does.”
When we finally make it back to the facility, the sun is rising over the city. Dom allows the medical staff to check his stitches and change his bandages. Axel submits to having his various cuts cleaned and treated. Marcus finally crashes at his desk, surrounded by the digital detritus of our successful operation.
I can’t sleep.
Not with the adrenaline still ghosting through my veins and the image of Axel’s blood-streaked face seared behind my eyelids. I leave the medical bay quietly, careful not to wake Dom, and wander the halls in search of… I don’t even know. Silence. Air. Something to hold on to now that the storm has passed.
I follow the low hum of voices to the far side of the facility, where Marcus’s office spills faint light into the corridor. The door’s cracked, and instinct has me pausing just before I’m seen.
Marcus sits on the couch, a cup of something steaming in one hand. Axel slouches beside him, legs stretched out, head tipped back against the wall. He’s in sweats now, a bandage on his shoulder, his curls still damp from a recent shower. The calm after the chaos. But his eyes are open, haunted, locked on the ceiling like maybe if he blinks, Viktor will still be there.
Neither of them speaks for a long while.
Then Marcus breaks the silence. “You did it.”
Axel lets out a breath that might be a laugh, but it’s hollow. “Did I?”
“You ended it on your terms.”
Axel’s fingers toy with the rim of the cup Marcus handed him. “He was right, you know. I was his masterpiece. He broke me perfectly.”
“No,” Marcus says, his voice low and certain. “You survived him. That’s not what masterpieces do.”
Another silence.
“I didn’t think it would feel like this,” Axel mutters.
“Like what?”
“Empty. Quiet. Like I cut off the last piece of who I used to be and now I’m just… floating.”
Marcus leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’re not floating. You’re free, but sometimes freedom doesn’t feel like a parade. It feels like standing in a room and realizing you don’t have to look over your shoulder anymore.”
Axel huffs a laugh. “You been talking to Raven?”
“No.” Marcus gives a small smile. “But I pay attention. She’d say the same thing.”
That pulls a real smile from Axel—tired and cracked at the edges. “She always sees the shit I’m trying to hide.”
“She sees all of us,” Marcus agrees, “and still chooses us anyway.”
A beat passes, then Axel speaks so quietly I barely hear it. “I don’t know how to be anything but broken.”
“You don’t have to be,” Marcus replies. “Just be here. Be ours.”
Axel nods once then leans forward, resting his forehead in his hands. For the first time since the fight, I see him truly collapse—not in weakness but in safety. He lets go, and Marcus doesn’t move to comfort him physically, but his presence is steady and grounding. It’s enough.
