KEIFER'S POV —
I don't remember standing up.
I don't remember pushing the chair back.
I only remember the sound of her voice still ringing in my head as I walked away from the table like my legs belonged to someone else.
JJM.
The Ravens.
Guns. Blood. Orders.
My father.
Her parents.
A bullet with her name engraved into it.
Jay.
Every word she said keeps replaying on a loop, brutal and precise, like she carved the truth straight into my chest and left it there to bleed.
I make it out of the park before my breathing turns ugly.
Before my vision blurs.
Before the weight of what she carried alone finally crushes me.
I end up in a secluded corner, trees packed close together, the city muffled like it's underwater. My hands are shaking. My chest feels too small for my lungs.
"She didn't choose this," I whisper hoarsely.
"She survived it."
The realization hits harder than anything she confessed.
She didn't become dark because she wanted power.
She became dark because the world didn't give her another option.
My jaw clenches.
I slam my fist into the tree.
Once.
The bark scrapes skin. Pain flares sharp and grounding.
Again.
Again.
Again.
I punch until my knuckles burn white-hot, until the skin splits, until my arms shake with the force of everything I didn't know, everything I should have seen.
"How much did you carry?" I choke.
"How much did you hide just so I could breathe?"
I lean my forehead against the tree, breath coming apart in harsh, uneven pulls.
My father.
I don't even know how to feel about that part yet. Rage, grief, disbelief—they're all tangled together, sharp and unfinished. But even that pain gets drowned out by one truth that towers over everything else.
Jay suffered.
Silently. Strategically. Alone.
While I was worried about legacies and bloodlines and protecting her from shadows—
She was already standing in them.
I drag a shaky hand down my face and turn back toward the park without meaning to.
And that's when I see her.
Jay is folded in on herself on the bench, shoulders shaking, her face buried as Percy holds her. She's crying the kind of cry that breaks something permanently. Not loud. Not dramatic.
Just ruined.
Something in my chest snaps so violently I actually gasp.
That's when it hits me.
Not the guns.
Not the blood.
Not the darkness.
Her pain.
Her breaking.
Her still choosing love even when it destroyed her.
I take a step forward before I can stop myself.
Another.
Every instinct in my body screams to go to her, to gather her up, to take every piece of that suffering and make it mine instead.
I don't care about the darkness.
I don't care about the blood.
I don't care about the world she thinks is too much for me.
All I can see is her.
Still crying.
Still hurting.
Still mine.
My voice comes out rough, raw, stripped of pride and fear and every lie I ever told myself.
"Jay."
She freezes.
Percy looks up first, surprised.
Jay lifts her head slowly, eyes red, breath stuttering—and when she sees me standing there, something in her expression shatters again.
I walk closer.
I don't stop.
"I heard everything," I say, my voice breaking openly now. "Every word. Every truth. Every scar you thought you had to carry alone."
She shakes her head weakly. "Keifer, I—"
I don't let her finish.
"You don't get to decide you're too dark for me," I say fiercely. "You don't get to love me enough to leave me and call that protection."
My chest heaves.
"You survived hell," I continue. "And you think that makes you unlovable?"
Her tears spill faster.
I step closer, stopping just in front of her.
"Jay," I say, softer now but no less certain. "You are mine."
Her breath catches.
"And I am yours," I add. "Nothing you told me changes that. Not the blood. Not the power. Not my father. Not the darkness."
I swallow hard, eyes burning.
"You didn't ruin me," I whisper. "You saved yourself. And I will never forgive myself for not seeing how much you were bleeding."
She breaks completely then, a sob tearing out of her as she covers her face.
I kneel in front of her, careful, reverent, like she might vanish if I move too fast.
"I don't need you to be soft," I murmur. "I don't need you to be clean. I just need you alive. Honest. Here with me. "
Her fingers tremble as they clutch my shirt.
The sun is fully up now, spilling light over everything we don't deserve forgiveness for.
And for the first time since the door closed between us—
I don't walk away.
The world narrows to her hands fisted in my shirt.
Jay is shaking like the ground beneath her is still breaking, like the choice she made is ripping through her in aftershocks. Her tears soak into the fabric over my heart, and I let them. I want the proof. I want to feel it.
Percy shifts behind us.
He doesn't interfere. He never does. He just watches me with that sharp, assessing calm — like he's measuring whether I'll break her or hold.
I lift my hand slowly, deliberately, and cup Jay's cheek.
She flinches.
Not away.
Just… bracing.
That nearly kills me.
"Hey," I whisper. My thumb brushes under her eye, catching a tear before it can fall. "Look at me."
She shakes her head.
"I can't," she breathes. "If I do, I'll—"
"—stay?" I finish softly.
Her breath stutters.
She looks at me then.
Really looks.
Her eyes are wrecked — red-rimmed, swollen, furious with love and grief and restraint. I've never seen her this open. This unarmored.
And suddenly everything clicks into place.
The control.
The steel.
The silence.
Armor.
She didn't become dangerous because she wanted to be feared.
She became dangerous because no one came when she cried.
"I'm not here to save you," I say quietly. "You don't need saving."
Her jaw tightens.
"I'm here to choose you," I continue. "Knowing everything. All of it."
She shakes her head again, frantic now. "Keifer, you don't understand—my world doesn't let people walk away clean. People get hurt. People die."
"I know," I say.
That makes her still.
"Jay you know I grew up in blood and violence and threats dressed up as tradition," I go on. "I know what darkness looks like when it smiles at you and calls you family."
I lean closer, forehead nearly touching hers.
"You think I'm untouched because I didn't pull the trigger," I murmur. "But I was raised by men who taught me how to aim."
Her breath comes uneven.
"You walked away to protect me," I say. "I walked back because loving you means accepting the cost."
Silence stretches — thick, terrifying.
Then she whispers, broken, "What if one day you hate me?"
I don't hesitate.
"Then I'll hate the world that forced you to become this," I say. "Not you."
Her hands slide up, gripping my arms like she's anchoring herself to reality.
Percy clears his throat softly behind us.
"Jay," he says gently. "I'll give you space."
She doesn't look back.
She just nods once.
Percy steps away, retreating toward the path, but before he goes, his eyes meet mine. There's a warning there. And respect.
Don't fail her.
I won't.
Jay exhales, shaky and exhausted, and leans her forehead into my chest like she's finally run out of strength.
I wrap my arms around her carefully, not tight — not trapping — just enough to remind her I'm real.
We stand there as the morning fully arrives.
Birds. Footsteps. Distant traffic.
Life daring to continue.
"I meant what I said," she whispers into me. "I wasn't pushing you away to test you."
"I know," I murmur into her hair. "You were letting me go because you love me."
Her fingers curl tighter.
"But I'm here," I add. "And I'm not leaving."
She pulls back just enough to look at me again.
"Even now?" she asks. "Even knowing what I am?"
I meet her gaze without flinching.
"Especially now."
Something in her finally breaks open — not painfully this time, but like a door unsealed after years of pressure.
She nods.
Once.
Slow.
"Okay," she whispers.
That single word hits harder than any confession.
I kiss her then — not desperate, not consuming — just a quiet, steady promise pressed into her trembling mouth.
No fireworks.
No urgency.
Just truth.
When we part, her forehead rests against mine, eyes closed, breathing syncing with mine like it used to.
The sun climbs higher.
And for the first time since everything shattered—
We don't choose safety.
We choose each other....