Sierra's POV

Aiden’s arm was heavy across my shoulders.

Too heavy.

Every breath I took felt like a scream trapped inside my ribs, but somehow my legs kept moving. Somehow I didn’t fall. Somehow I carried him because the Don said I should move.

And when Don Elira gave the order, my bones obeyed even when my brain didn’t understand how.

The night outside the cabin was cold and swollen with danger. I could hear it. I could feel it. The voices of men clashing in the distance, arguing, shouting, weapons clicking, footsteps everywhere.

Chaos.

Pure, horrible chaos.

And Aiden was slipping.

“Hold on, please,” I begged, pushing his arm...