I could have killed my brother when that accusation came flying out of Shayne’s mouth at my dining table. How dare he try to fuck with her memory like that? But he kept at it, determined that it was her, and I was a fucking idiot for not believing him. I saw the signs and I ignored every last one of them. There is still time. If I’d only listened, if I’d given it the time of day, I could have saved her from this bullshit.
My father will pay for keeping her from me. I’ll fucking destroy him for this.
My gaze skims over a cell that has signs of an attack, torn underwear, dried blood, and a pair of pants that are inside out. My mind takes me to the worst fucking place, and I find myself looking up at Shayne. There’s something oddly familiar about those pants. They’re not Shayne’s though. She’s still fully dressed in the clothes she was wearing the day she was taken.
Felicity. They must be hers.
“Where the fuck is she?” I roar, looking up and meeting Shayne’s stare on the steps, hiding behind my brothers as though she’s terrified that I’m about to take out my frustrations on her. I would never hurt her like that, not after the bullshit I’ve already put her through, but fuck, if one of my brothers wanted to try me right now, I’d be more than happy to take my guilt out on them.
Shayne nods toward the cell just down from me and points. “She’s in there,” she starts. “But—”
I break away, spinning on my heel and darting toward the cell to find a fucking mess. “FELICITY,” I rush out, my brothers racing down the rest of the stairs.
“Roman, wait,” I hear Shayne calling out, whatever she needs to say is not important right now, all that matters is getting to Felicity.
I reach her cell within two big strides and dive through the open door, my gaze shooting down to the body sprawled out on the floor, unable to understand what the fuck I’m looking at. This isn’t my Felicity. This is … this is nothing but a shell. Her stomach is swollen and her bright blonde hair dirty and matted. Those lips that would brush against mine are thin and gray, the color completely drained from her body. Her stiff, decaying body.
“Fuck,” I hear Marcus moving in behind me, his hand falling to my shoulder and making me realize that I’m on my knees.
I reach out to her, gripping onto her perfect, delicate little hand unable to believe what I’m seeing. She can’t be dead, not when I only just got her back. My hand clenches around hers, the red-hot anger burning through me. She looks as though she’s been gone for at least a few days, and that realization has pure agony spearing through my chest.
My eyes sting, a feeling I’ve never experienced before, and I want nothing more than to sink my fingers into someone’s chest and tear their heart right out of their body.
“FUCK,” I roar, this feeling weighing down on me, something I haven’t felt since that night my father stormed the castle and shot her through the chest. She was supposed to be gone then. I’d come to terms with it, but she’s been alive this whole fucking time and I left her here to rot, left her in my father’s grasps, too fucking overwhelmed by grief and anger to even question it.
I failed her. I let her down and I’ll never fucking forgive myself.
A broken sigh sounds beside me, and I feel Shayne’s presence like a fucking beacon calling to me. “How?” I breathe, the word getting stuck in my throat.
She moves in closer, and it somehow makes the pain just a little more tolerable. She drops to her knees, looking down at Felicity as though they were best friends. She reaches out and brushes the matted strands of hair off her face, revealing the sunken hollows of her cheeks, cheeks that were once full of life.
“Your father has kept her locked up this whole time,” Shayne starts, lowering her voice to a whisper as she struggles to get the words out. “The night I got here was when it happened. She was all alone in here, already in labor. She was screaming. I’ll never forget it. I was locked up across the basement, but I couldn’t ignore it. They were just upstairs, acting as though nothing was happening and I …”
She trails off, realizing there are more important things she needs to share right now. “I knocked out one of the guards … the one you just shot outside, and I helped her. She was so scared. She didn’t want to push because she knew what your father was going to do the second the baby was delivered.”
Dread pulses through me and my chest sinks, fearing the worst. “My baby,” I breathe, feeling it deep in my gut. He’s gone. My father would have killed him in front of her eyes before killing her just to get his fucking rocks off.
“No,” Shayne rushes out, taking my hand in hers and holding it so close to her chest that I feel the rapid beat of her heart beneath. “She gave birth to a beautiful little boy, Roman,” she tells me, her eyes watering as she recalls the magical moment. “He was perfect, and fuck, he had a good set of lungs on him. Felicity,” she continues, pausing for a moment to find herself. “She held him in her arms, and seeing the way she looked at her son, it was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”
My heart constricts and the agony tearing through me is like never before. I’ve never been so fucking jealous. I would have loved to witness the birth of my son, to be here as he was brought into the world and see that unconditional love shining through Felicity’s eyes as she looked down at him for the first time. “Stop dancing around it,” I demand. “Give it to me straight. What the fuck happened?”
Shayne’s brows furrow and I see the fear in her eyes, wanting to save me from whatever she’s about to say, but she knows I need to hear it just as much as my brothers do. “A few minutes after your son was born, Felicity started to hemorrhage. There was just blood … everywhere. I couldn’t stop it, couldn’t control it. It just kept coming and I panicked. I couldn’t help her. I swear, I was trying to save her, but there was just … nothing,” she says with a heavy sob, squeezing my hand as though that’s magically going to make the pain go away. “There was nothing I could do but watch her die while she held onto her son.”
My gaze lingers on Felicity’s body, and the longer I stare, the harder it gets. “Was she scared?” I question, at odds with my emotions, glad that she died from birthing complications rather than at my father’s hand. “When she died. Was she scared?”
Shayne shakes her head. “I don’t believe so,” she murmurs. “She was concerned about the baby. That’s all that mattered to her. She was terrified of what would happen to him growing up in this world, but I assured her that he would be safe with us. I … I can’t exactly speak for her, but I think she was almost relieved to go, that it was finally over for her.”
Shayne’s words kill me more than she will ever know, the thought of Felicity enduring this hell for so long at my father’s hands and not being here to save her. What would she have thought of me?
Levi moves in closer, standing directly behind Shayne, his hand dropping to her shoulder. “Where’s the baby, Shayne?” he questions, asking the one question I’m too fucking scared to hear the answer to. “What happened to him?”
Shayne looks back at me, fresh tears forming in her eyes. “I tried to stop him,” she says, choking on her sobs as they get stuck in her throat. “But your father … he … he …”
My eyes close as the overwhelming grief takes over me. She said earlier that he was fine, but I won’t believe it until I hear exactly what happened. “Spit it out,” I roar, the mix of frustration, guilt, fear, and devastation creating a vile mix.
“He was down here the whole time, watching her die and he just … he did nothing but watch,” she cries, tears streaming down her blood-stained face. “I tried to run with the baby, but he blocked me in. I had nowhere to go and his hand … he overpowered me. He took the baby and promised that he would use him as a weapon against you. I swear,” she adds, her violent sobs tearing at my already shattered heart. “I held onto him as long as I could. Your son … he’s gone. Your father took him, and I don’t know how to find him.”
With that, I take one last lingering look at Felicity’s body, taking in the face that I’ll never see full of life ever again. I get to my feet and walk the fuck out.