-Elias Grayson:
What do you do when your father's last wish on his deathbed is asking you to mate the most terrifying man you've ever known?
I sit on the edge of his bed, the sheets cold under my hands, and I feel like the room is shrinking around us. The machines beep like they're begging him to stay alive. I'm begging too.
He lies there, skin pale, breath uneven. On his other side sits him — the Enigma.
He's massive — tall enough to block the light, broad enough to make the bed seem too small. Dark hair falls to his shoulders, messy like he ran here. Tattoos climb up his arms and disappear beneath black sleeves, symbols I don't recognize. His eyes… they're sharp, hunter-like, the kind of eyes that should be cold.
But they aren't.
They're hurting.
He looks at my father like a son watching his world fall apart. Like this moment is breaking him too.
My father reaches out with a trembling hand. He grabs the Enigma's hand first — big, warm, calloused — then he takes mine. He pulls both our hands together and presses them to his chest, right where his heartbeat struggles.
"Listen," my father whispers, voice thin like it's slipping away. "Elias… this is the person I trust most. The only one I trust with you."
The Enigma swallows hard. I can hear it. "Don't," he mutters. "Don't talk like you're already gone."
But my father just shakes his head. "I know what's coming. I can feel it." He squeezes our hands. "So hear me. Please. Stay with him."
My chest cracks open. "Dad… stop. Please. Don't say it like that." My voice isn't even a voice anymore; it's just shaking air. "I can't do this without you. I can't—"
"You can." His eyes close for a moment, then open again — soft, certain. "He will protect you when I can't. Please… stay together. Please marry him. Be with him. He's the only who would stand between you and the world."
I can't breathe. Tears slip down my cheeks before I realize I'm crying again.
The Enigma's hand twitches in mine. He looks at my father, not me — like this decision is a weight he's afraid to drop. His voice comes out rough, almost frightened.
"I'll stay," he promises. "I'll protect him. If this is your last request… then I swear it."
My father exhales, a sound like he's been holding it for years. He opens his eyes just enough to see me.
"Elias…." His voice breaks. "Don't be afraid. I'm not leaving you. I'm just… going ahead."
"No," I choke. "Don't go. Not yet. Please… I need more time. I need—"
He tries to smile. It's small. It hurts. "You won't be alone. He'll be here with you." Our hands are still pressed to his chest, all three of us holding on. "He won't try to change you. I promise. Please, count on him."
I look at our hands. My father's. The Enigma's. Mine.
I don't know whose tears fall first — his, or mine, or maybe both.