Bloodbound: The Alliance
Chapter 99 - 101

Chapter 99: Chapter 101

Kelsey POV

The sharp, echoing bang of a gunshot jolts me awake, my heart racing as I bolt half upright, disoriented by the blinding glare of fluorescent lights. The soothing rhythm of his fingers belies the tension in his furrowed brow. The hospital’s waiting room materializes around me, stark and sterile. My head was cradled in Luciano’s lap, his hand still moving gently through the tangle of my curls as I sag haltingly, drooping against his shoulder this time. He lifts his hand and, with an awkward twist of his wrist, cups his hand over my cheek and so his huge hand covers half of my face.

"Avara?" I ask quietly.

"Still in surgery, I think. It’s been hours and still no one has told us anything."

His hand drops from my face to land numbly on his thigh. I take his hand so I can entwine our fingers together before I plant them on my lap, hoping he can draw from me what words fail to deliver. My eyes scan the expanse of glaring white and glass panels to see it occupied by us and three other people on the opposite end, who I don’t know.

"Where’s Silas?" I whisper.

"Stormed off not long ago."

I lift myself straight in the seat.

"Where are you going?"

"Fetch him before he starts picking fights with anyone who looks at him funny."

"At least we’re in a hospital," he mutters wryly.

I stand and my face turns to toss him a flat look.

"What?" he says too harshly, any sense of play or composure is expelled by a single expression. "I can’t be worried by Silas’s temper tantrums when any nurse can walk up in here and tell me my sister that my sister is d–d–"

His words dissolve into incoherent sobs as he leans forward, his face buried in trembling hands, elbows propped on his thighs. Slowly, I sink to my knees before him, gathering his weight into my arms. He collapses into me, his forehead pressing against my shoulder, the tension in his body melting into my embrace. His arms unfurl, wrapping around me in a desperate hold, as though letting go might unravel him entirely.

I want to promise that everything will be okay, to whisper that she’ll survive this. It’s the hope I cling to—but what if it’s not the truth?

Luciano pulls back suddenly, turning his face aside to shield his tear-streaked cheeks. The rawness in his retreat leaves me aching. I reach out, placing a reassuring squeeze on his thigh before rising to my feet. My legs carry me from the glass-walled waiting room, down the corridor. The first corner I turn, safely out of sight, I collapse against the wall, hunched over, my hands braced on my knees. A scream builds in my chest, silent but violent, shaking through me like a storm caged within. My body trembles under the weight.

A hand settles carefully on my shoulder—that confidence makes me assume it’s Silas, but I know his touch and this isn’t him. I glance up, only to recoil in shock.

The man from the wedding stands before me, the black-clad figure. His imposing presence is undeniable, but the tears that streak his face reveal an unguarded humanity, one that is just as shocking to me. His anguish is raw and unhidden.

"You’re... you’re him," I stammer, my voice faltering under the weight of recognition.

He inclines his head, his dark eyes glinting with a manic edge, the kind carried by those who’ve walked the edge of sleepless despair. "What is Avara’s condition?" he asks, voice taut with urgency.

"Last I heard," I manage, swallowing hard, "she was rushed into surgery. That was hours ago. We still don’t know anything."

The man’s shoulders sag, his formidable posture crumbling beneath the invisible burden of those words. His sorrow shifts, giving way to a darker, harder resolve.

"They were there for her, weren’t they?" I ask quietly, my words trembling on the brink of certainty.

His gaze snaps to mine, sharp and searching.

"I saw you holding those black roses," I murmur, piecing it together aloud. "At first, I thought those men were with you, that maybe you wanted revenge after she ended things. Yeah, I know about that—she tells me everything—but not when she was with you. But when I saw you fighting them... I realized they weren’t with you."

"I had nothing to do with this," he replies, the weight of his words landing with undeniable clarity. "But when I find those responsible—"

"You’ll kill them?" I whisper, the question trembling on my lips.

His eyes darken, his expression hardening into something almost inhuman. "I could never show such mercy."

"Yeah, go do the thing that severed you from her in the first place."

A burst of anger coils his muscles tighter, making him loom larger as the sight makes me shrink from him.

"Set aside my own grief. What if those who came for her come for her again when they learn she survived? Because she will survive," he states, as he refuses to believe in another truth that opposes the one he clings to.

I shrug exaggeratedly. "I don’t know. Let law enforcement handle it."

He turns his face sharpy as he shakes his head with impatient irritation. "There is not an intelligent agency on the planet that will reach the men who did this. Just like there is no power on this earth that will stop me from doing what they can’t."

My eyes jump to the round mirror thing in the top corner of the corridor and I spot Uncle Al at the end of the corridor, grabbing a nurse frantically. I whip around and I see him questioning her with feverish fervour before she points down the corridor I am. When I turn around to warn Botan—he’s gone. Vanished, like he was never here. I step forward so I can look at the junction, both left and right, but not even a dark inkling, no trace of his existence.

"Kels!"

I whirl around to see Uncle Al rushing towards me before he collides into me and I hold on to him for my own stability than his.

"Where is she?" His voice, torn by grief.

"Surgery. None of us know anything yet. Luciano is in the waiting room, and I’m trying to look for Silas."

"Silas?" he repeats, his panic renewed.

"He’s fine. He was just overwhelmed about Avara and stormed off. You know how he can get."

His brows quirk in silent agreement.

"Do you want to go inside?"

He shakes his head vigorously. "I can’t." he says breathlessly. "Hospitals," he spits out with loaded loathing. "Just like the night I lost my Rosie, and I was terrified if I was going to lose my baby girl, too." The sophisticated veneer deteriorates with his every word. "I can’t."

"I know this is harsh, but can you imagine how it feels for Luciano and Silas, too? She was your wife, but it was their mom and sister and now she’s fighting for her life again. They need a pillar of strength right now—they need you."

His lips fold inwardly as he nods brokenly. I motion him to follow and when the visitor’s room is within our field of view; I point a finger at Luciano, who hasn’t seen us yet. Uncle Al clasps his hand on the back of my neck to draw me close before he plants a quick kiss on my temple—screaming in internalised daddy issues. Uncle AL walks off, his natural iron-clad confidence shattered with his shoulders hunched and his eyes tied to the floor as he moves inside. When the door opens, Luciano’s eyes flick disinterestedly, then shock shoots him to his feet.

Uncle Al closes the distance with none of them saying a word. He places an affectionate hand on his shoulder and his warmth magnetises his body to him as he embraces his son, stroking his hair with his face buried in his shoulder.