Chapter 116— The Whispers of the Future

Chapter 116— The Whispers of the Future
AMARA

I had lost track of how many hours we spent in that war room. The boys carved strategies across the table until the map bled red. They were determined—relentless—ready to strip every dollar, every soldier, every ounce of power from Killian. And I’d given them everything I knew. Every route. Every habit. Every vulnerability he ever whispered to me like a secret.

But now it was just me.

Me and Liam.

I sit beside him, my fingers wrapped around his, clinging to hope like it’s the only oxygen in this room. His hand is warm against mine. Warm means alive. Warm means he’s still here. The monitor beeps in a rhythm I try not to count, because counting turns into fear.

“Please wake up,” I whisper. My thumb drags across his knuckles. “I need you… I’ve never needed anyone.”

He doesn’t stir.

God, what I would give to hear him say kitten again—even though I swore I hated that stupid nickname. Even though it became the one word that meant safety when everything else was pain.

I lean down and brush my lips against his. The machine seems to pick up pace. Maybe it’s real. Maybe I’m hallucinating from exhaustion. I haven’t slept—hours, days—I can’t even tell anymore. Time stopped meaning anything the moment Killian’s fortress disappeared behind us.

And every second since then has been a test of the choices I made.

Leaving Killian alive.

Liam shouting to kill him.

Thomas dragging both of us out before the gas took us under again.

Would Liam understand why I walked away?

Would he hate me for it?

Should he?

He looks so pale.

So unlike the man who broke into my prison world and rearranged every wall around me.

I rise and pace because sitting feels like drowning. My footsteps click against tile, the machines hum, and he lies still—too still. Like a ghost wearing Liam’s face.

If he never wakes up…

If he dies because of my choices…

Because of me…

A shiver tears down my spine.

He risked everything for me—someone who never believed she was worth anything. Someone broken, trained by a monster, shaped into something sharp enough to cut herself.

“Please,” I breathe, voice cracking. “Come back to me.”

“Kitten.”

The word—slurred, soft—splits the silence.

My head snaps up. “Liam?”

I rush to him, hands trembling as I take his. His fingers curl weakly around mine. My lungs collapse and expand all at once.

“I’m right here,” I whisper, breathless. “I’m here.”

His green eyes blink open, heavy with sleep, pain, morphine—yet still warm enough to punch straight into my chest. He gives me a lazy, crooked grin.

“Kitten…”

I choke on a laugh-sob and press my lips to his knuckles.

“Marry me, kitten.”

Everything freezes.

The room.

My heartbeat.

Reality.

I stare at him, unable to breathe. Surely I misheard. I haven’t slept. I’m imagining things.

“…What?”

My voice breaks like glass.

His gaze doesn’t waver. Not even a little.

“Marry me, kitten. Be mine. Forever.”

My stomach drops, twists, flutters—all at once.

The very first thing he says after waking up is a proposal?

My mind stumbles backward—to Killian, his forced vows, his chains, the mockery of a wedding he tried to trap me in. Marriage was never a dream for me. It was a weapon. A cage.

But Liam’s voice cuts through that shadow:

“Marry me, Kitten. Choose me. Choose us. Not because someone demands it—because you feel it too. Because these last months lit something in me I can’t put out. Marry me, Amara. Be my queen”

His voice trembles at the end—not from fear, but from how fragile his body is beneath the machines. How deeply he means every word.

My breath shudders out of me. My heart aches—sharp, sweet, terrified.

“Liam…” I whisper, blinking hard. “You don’t even know what you’re asking.”

“I know exactly what I’m asking,” he murmurs.

And God help me…

Part of me wants to fold into him.

Wants to say yes so fast the word falls out of me.

Because he’s everything I never let myself want.

Because he sees me—the real me—not the weapon Killian sculpted.

Because he fought for me when I couldn’t fight for myself.

But with that yes comes blood.

War.

Every enemy Killian still controls.

Every consequence of letting someone matter this much.

My lips part.

My throat tightens.

Emotion swells until it hurts.

“I…”

The word trembles.

Do I tell him the truth?

Do I tell him I’m terrified to want something that isn’t pain?

Do I tell him yes?

Or that I’m afraid of the cost?

His fingers squeeze mine—weak but determined.

“Say something, kitten,” he whispers.

Tears burn hot at the corners of my eyes.

My answer rises—heavy, trembling, impossibly full—

And I break.

A sound leaves me—not yes, not no—just a breath caught between longing and fear. My vision blurs. My shoulders shake.

I press my forehead to the back of his hand, letting the moment stretch, fragile and suspended.

Because whatever I say next…

Will rewrite everything.

I lift my head.

Meet his gaze.

My heart slams against my ribs—

Suspended.

Breathless.

Right on the edge of an answer.