The room was still dimly lit, the heavy scent of antiseptic and faint traces of blood lingering in the air. Dominic's breathing had steadied, but his face remained ghostly pale, a stark contrast to his usual imposing presence. Elijah hadn't left his side, his fingers still loosely intertwined with Dominic's.
Vincent entered the room, carrying a fresh set of bandages. He glanced at Elijah, then at Dominic, before sighing.
"He's lucky," Vincent muttered. "Another inch, and that bullet would've been the end of him."
Elijah's jaw clenched. "If it was so close, then why the hell did he leave without backup?"
Vincent crouched next to him, unwrapping the bloodied bandages around Dominic's shoulder. "You know why."
Elijah didn't respond.
Vincent continued, his voice low. "He doesn't trust anyone else with this war. It had to be him."
Elijah scoffed bitterly. "And look where that got him."
Vincent shook his head, carefully pressing fresh gauze against the wound. Dominic stirred slightly, a pained groan escaping his lips, but he didn't wake.
Adrian, who had been leaning against the wall, finally spoke up. "So, what now? You just keep fighting till one of you dies?"
Vincent tightened the bandage, his movements sharp. "That's the way things work."
Elijah exhaled sharply, rubbing his face. "Matteo's not gonna stop, is he?"
Vincent's eyes darkened. "Not until one of them is dead."
Silence settled over them like a thick fog.
Elijah looked at Dominic again, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest. He hated this. The helplessness. The waiting. The knowing that Dominic would throw himself into battle again the moment he was strong enough to stand.
Adrian shifted. "So, what do we do? Just sit here and wait for the next attack?"
Vincent glanced at him. "That depends."
Elijah frowned. "On what?"
Vincent hesitated before answering, his voice careful.
"On how far you're willing to go."
Elijah stared at him.
Vincent's gaze flickered toward Dominic. "Because once you step into this world, Elijah… there's no going back."
Elijah swallowed, his heart pounding.
And the worst part?
He already knew that.
—