186

186

Draven’s pov

She walked in without a sound, the same way she’d been slipping out of my world,quietly, precisely, like she didn’t want to leave a single trace behind. No perfume. No presence. Nothing of her lingered in the room but the cold that settled in my chest.

She dropped the manila envelope on my desk. The dull thump echoed louder than any scream.

“Divorce papers,” she said.

I didn’t reach for them. I couldn’t. I just stared at her,at the curve of her neck, the defiance in her jawline, the flicker in her eyes that told me this wasn’t some empty threat.

“I didn’t think we were married,” I said, my voice low.

She didn’t smile. Not even the bitter kind. “We were. In blood. In bond. In tragedy.”

I picked up the envelope, hands steady even though the rest of me was unraveling inside. My fingers slid over the seal, but I didn’t open it.

She folded her arms across her chest. “I want you to sign them.”

There was no rage in her tone. No desperation. Just something harder. Final. Like ice that’s settled after the fire.

“What are you running from, Eira?” I asked. “Me?”

“I’m not running,” she said simply. “I’m reclaiming.”

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the woman who once lay tangled in my sheets, laughing at my sarcasm and whispering dreams into my chest like prayers. Now she stood there, dressed like armor was her only skin, and I couldn't tell whether I hated her resolve… or admired it.

“Is this because of the baby?” I asked quietly.

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t bring that up like it changes anything.”

“It changes everything,” I growled, standing. “You’re carrying my child.”

“Your child will know love,” she said. “But not yours.”

The air left my lungs.

I stepped around the desk, slow, cautious like I was approaching a wild animal too wounded to fight,but too proud to beg. “Eira. Don’t do this.”

She held out a pen. “Sign it.”

“I won’t stop protecting you,” I said, even as I took the pen.

“Then you never loved me,” she replied.

The words hit harder than any blade.

She didn’t cry. She didn’t scream. She just waited.

“You asked me once what it meant to love someone like me,” I said, fingers tightening around the pen. “It means you bleed without asking for a bandage. It means you lose her,you,over and over again because your hands are too covered in guilt to ever hold her right.”

Her gaze faltered for a moment. That was all I had. A flicker. A fracture.

And then she steeled again.

“Draven, stop,” she whispered. “Stop trying to rescue what you broke.”

I looked down at the paper, the signature line waiting for the name of a man who didn’t deserve her in the first place. I signed. Slowly. As if each letter carved my soul open.

When I handed her the paper, I didn’t say goodbye. I couldn’t.

She took it and turned, but just before leaving, she said without looking back, “Don’t protect me anymore. I don’t want your kindness.”

Then she was gone.

No slam of the door. No sound of footsteps fading. Just a silence that screamed.

I stood there for a long time. Couldn’t sit. Couldn’t breathe. The desk, the envelope, the air,everything reeked of her absence.

My eyes drifted to the wall, to the painting I’d hung up years ago. Hazel’s portrait. She was smiling in it, just a girl with dreams too big and heart too soft. My sister. My curse.

Eira had once told me Hazel would’ve hated what I became. She was right.

I walked up to the painting, staring into the eyes of a ghost I could never outrun. “You told me to protect her,” I whispered. “I failed.”

My fist clenched. I don’t remember throwing the punch. All I remember is the sound,wood shattering, glass cracking, canvas ripping as Hazel’s face disappeared beneath shards and ruin.

I didn’t flinch.

Blood trickled down my knuckles. I let it.

I deserved to bleed.

I sat on the edge of the desk, breathing like a man drowning in his own silence. I didn’t want redemption. That had never been for men like me.

I wanted vengeance.

Not the loud kind. Not the kind that painted walls red.

The quiet kind. The kind that buried love so deep in the grave, it came back as fury.

Eira didn’t want my kindness anymore.
Fine.
I’d bury it with every soft part of me.

I would become the weapon they needed.

No more saving. No more begging. No more holding back.

If she wanted to forget I ever loved her,
Then so be it.

But may the world remember the storm I become without her.