26
“Hi, Ellie.”
The sound of his voice shattered something inside me. My breath hitched, and my chest felt like it might cave in. I tried to speak, but the words got tangled in my sobs, coming out broken and uneven.
“D-Dane…” I stammered, barely able to get the word out through the tears. My body trembled. “I saw you. I saw you die.”
He didn’t answer, not right away. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming me. And then I smelled him.
It hit me like a wave—familiar and bittersweet. That same mix of freshly laundered clothes and his natural, musky scent. It wasn’t anything extraordinary, but it was him. It was home. The scent of a place that didn’t exist anymore, a life we’d lost.
I remembered how Mom used to wash our clothes as kids, the faint soap smell clinging to us for days. Dane never cared for deodorants—he’d always hated them. He said they smelled too strong, too fake. That scent, so uniquely him, filled my lungs, pulling memories I’d buried too deep to reach.
Through the blur of tears, I watched as he knelt before me. His movements were quick but shaky, his fingers fumbling as they worked to undo the ropes around my wrists. His hands trembled—just like they always did when he was nervous.
My sobs turned into quiet gasps as I looked at him, really looked at him. The scar on his face, the colder edge to his features, the weight in his eyes—it was all so different. But those trembling hands? That was my Dane.
“My Dane,” I whispered, barely audible. My older brother. My protector. The boy with autism who used to get so nervous before school presentations that his hands would shake just like this. The boy who used to count my freckles to calm himself down.
Tears spilled over as I realized I wasn’t dreaming. This was real. He was here. “You tie her,” He said to Dominic, accusingly, his voice was shaking. “You tie Ellie. Hurt Ellie.”
Dominic stood by the door, watching us, his arms folded, and remained silent. He had been Dane’s best bud since we were all kids, before I was even born, he was the second person who understood him as much as I did. So he said nothing, let Dane’s voice shake and his fingers tremble as he tried to loosen me.
When the ropes finally came loose, I didn’t wait another second. I threw myself into his arms, clinging to him as if letting go would mean losing him all over again. At first, he stiffened at the contact, his body rigid, as though he didn’t know how to react. Then his arms wrapped around my waist, and his grip tightened, desperate and unrelenting.
His head buried against my chest, and I held onto his shoulders with everything I had. My tears soaked into his hair, my sobs uncontrollable. The pain in my chest felt like it might split me open, but I didn’t care. I cried harder than I ever had before—deep, body-wracking sobs that left me trembling in his arms.
Against me, his voice came muffled, trembling, broken. “Dane not die. Dane…” He paused, his breath hitching. “Not die. Alaric save Dane.”
Alaric.
The name hit me like a shockwave. Our uncle, my father’s older brother, who had lived with us twelve years ago—before that night. The night Vaughn’s men came, the night of my sixteenth birthday party when everything fell apart. I hadn’t seen or heard from Uncle Alaric since that night. I’d assumed he was dead, like everyone else.
But if Alaric had saved Dane, where had they been all these years? What had happened after that night? My mind spiraled with questions, but more than anything, the thought of Dane having to fend for himself, like I had, clawed at my heart.
I had relocated to Brooklyn after the attack, far from Paris, far from where our families had lived, reigned, and perished. I’d spent months in a smelly, run-down apartment with barely enough money to survive. I had lived through the loneliness, the hunger, the fear. And then, when Dominic came and supposedly died, and I had both his and my father’s wealth transferred to my name, I rebuilt my life, piece by piece.
But Dane? What had become of him in all that time?
I wanted to scream, to cry out at the thought of the suffering he must have endured. My suffering had been unbearable, but his—his must have been worse. He hadn’t had anyone. Not me. Not anyone.
Seconds stretched into minutes before we finally pulled away from each other. Dane's trembling fingers wiped the tears from my face, his movements tender, though his own eyes were reddened. Despite everything, no tears fell down his face. His voice was soft but steady when he spoke. “Dane here now. Brother here now.”
A small, broken chuckle escaped me through my tears, a wave of relief washing over me. For a moment earlier, when I had first seen him, I thought he’d lost himself entirely—the quirks and warmth that made him Dane. But I was wrong. He was still here. Still my brother.
Dominic’s sharp voice broke the moment, cutting through the warmth like a blade. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to ruin the reunion, but we’ve got more pressing matters to discuss—like how to take Vaughn down before he strikes again.”
My relief turned to disgust as I shot him a glare over Dane’s head. “Vaughn’s planning another strike?” I asked, my voice tight. Then, the anger shifted, sharp and fresh, back to Dominic. “And couldn’t you have made the kidnapping a little less dramatic?”
Dominic shrugged, completely unbothered, though a small, lopsided smirk tugged at his lips. That smirk—the same one that always reminded me of the boy he used to be—tilted just enough to hint at mischief. “What can I say? I still love being in the spotlight.”
I laughed, despite myself, shaking my head. “For a loser, you sure have a lot of nerve.”
Dominic leaned against the doorframe, his smirk widening into something more genuine. “You didn’t seem to mind my nerves back then.”
“The ego stinks.”
Dominic’s smirk only widened, his arms crossing over his chest as he leaned lazily against the doorframe. “Still mad at me, Ellie? I thought you’d be used to my dramatic flair by now.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, my voice laced with irritation. “Used to it? Oh, absolutely. Being thrown into a chair, tied up, and nearly suffocated? So endearing. You really know how to make a girl feel special, Dominic.”
He chuckled, low and infuriatingly calm. “You know, you’re welcome, by the way. For saving you.”
“Saving me?” I scoffed, folding my arms. “You kidnapped me! And for what? To drop a bombshell about Vaughn and parade my brother out like some magic trick?”
His lopsided grin didn’t falter. “You’re alive, aren’t you? You can thank me later.”
I threw my hands up in exasperation. “You are unbelievable.”
He tilted his head, feigning thoughtfulness. “Charming. Confident. Reliable. The list goes on—”
“You’re insufferable!”
“Ellie mad,” Dane’s voice cut through, soft but firm, silencing us both. He looked between the two of us, his brow furrowed in that familiar way he used to when he didn’t understand why people argued. “No fight. Dane not like fight.”
I immediately softened, guilt washing over me as I turned back to him. “Sorry, Dane,” I murmured, brushing my hand against his arm. “We’re not fighting. Dominic’s just...Dominic.”
Dane tilted his head, his lips pursing like he was trying to piece something together. Finally, he looked at Dominic with a deadpan expression. “Dominic dumb.”
I snorted, biting back laughter as Dominic’s jaw dropped slightly. “Dane! Traitor!”
Dane didn’t respond, instead turning back to me with a small smile, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. “Ellie okay?”
I nodded, cupping his face briefly with both hands. “Yeah, Dane. I’m okay.”
Dominic grumbled something under his breath, clearly displeased with the turn of events. Dane glanced at him again, shrugging innocently. “Still dumb.”
And for the first time in years, despite everything, I laughed.
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