Part 54
(Alex's POV)
He moved.
Just one small motion—backward, toward her.
Toward Leah.
It wasn't a shove or a shout, nothing so loud.
But to Alex it felt like an earthquake cracking through the quiet world she had built.
For weeks she had pictured this moment: Adrian seeing her again, remembering, understanding.
Now, watching him choose distance instead of recognition, that picture tore apart in her mind.
The air around her seemed to hum, faint and metallic.
She could taste rain and dust, feel her pulse burning behind her eyes.
He's mine, the thought came, fierce and wordless, rising like fire under her ribs.
He wouldn't even be standing if it weren't for me.
Leah's hand brushed his arm again—small, protective—and the sight made Alex's throat tighten.
A heat rushed through her chest, the ache of devotion twisting into something rawer, darker.
She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.
Her voice, when it came, was quiet—too quiet.
"You really think she can keep you safe?"
Neither of them answered.
They just stood together, and that silence was worse than any scream.
Alex took a slow breath, the rain behind her whispering like static.
Inside, everything felt sharp—bright with fury, heavy with heartbreak.
He doesn't see it yet, she thought.
But he will.
And she stepped back—not in surrender, but in calculation.
The possessive heat didn't fade; it only condensed, focused, becoming something colder, steadier.
A promise rather than an outburst.
He'll remember who stood in the dark with him. Even if I have to remind him myself.