EZRA
I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions I couldn't control. The dull ache in my legs was a constant reminder of everything that had happened, of how much had been taken from me. They told me I might be able to walk again in a year or two, but that felt like a lifetime away. I wasn't sure if I'd ever truly believe it.
The cabin was warm, comfortable, nothing like Lucius's mansion, where the air always felt suffocating, like the walls were closing in on me. Here, it smelled of pine and old wood, of safety and freedom, even if I was bound to this damn wheelchair.
I exhaled sharply, shifting slightly as I heard the door creak open. Malachai walked in, his face worn with exhaustion but his eyes lighting up when he saw me awake. He always looked at me like that now, like he was scared I'd disappear if he blinked.
"You're awake," he said softly, stepping closer. "How are you feeling?"
I forced a smirk. "Like someone ran me over with a truck. Twice."
Malachai chuckled, kneeling beside me. "You're still dramatic, I see."
"Would you rather I be boring?" I quipped, tilting my head as I studied him. "You look tired."
He shrugged. "I've been talking to my brother. Planning."
I frowned, my fingers gripping the blanket draped over my legs. "Planning for what?"
His jaw tensed. "To take Lucius down."
My breath hitched, my heart hammering against my ribs. Lucius. His name alone sent shivers down my spine. "You're serious?"
Malachai nodded. "I'm not running anymore. I'm done being his puppet. I won't let him hurt you again."
A lump formed in my throat. No one had ever stood up for me before. No one had ever fought for me. I didn't know what to do with the warmth that spread through my chest.
I reached out, my fingers brushing his cheek. "You don't have to do this for me."
His eyes darkened. "It's not just for you, Ezra. It's for me too."
I swallowed hard, nodding. "Just… be careful, okay?"
He smiled, leaning into my touch. "Always."
Silence settled between us, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was warm, comforting. I watched him, tracing the sharp lines of his face, the bruises that were slowly fading. He was still healing, just like me.
Then, I hesitated before asking, "Why do you keep calling me 'baby'?"
Malachai blinked, surprised by the sudden question. Then, a slow smirk spread across his lips. "Because you are."
I scoffed. "That's not an answer."
He leaned closer, his breath warm against my skin. "Fine. Because you mean something to me. Because I want to. Because I love the way you react every time I say it."
My cheeks burned, and I tried to push him away, but he caught my wrist, holding me in place. "Admit it," he teased. "You like it."
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't hide the small smile tugging at my lips. "You're insufferable."
"And yet, you're stuck with me."
I sighed dramatically. "I guess I am."
Malachai laughed, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before pulling me into his arms. I melted against him, my head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe. I felt loved.
We stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, letting the moment wrap around us like a warm blanket. He ran his fingers through my hair, his touch gentle, almost reverent.
"Tell me something," I murmured.
"Anything."
"Do you think we'll ever be truly free?"
Malachai exhaled slowly. "I don't know. But I know I'll fight for it. For you. For us."
I closed my eyes, absorbing his words. I wanted to believe them. I wanted to believe in him. Maybe, just maybe, we had a chance at something more than just survival. Maybe we had a chance at happiness.
For now, that was enough.