Chapter Four

The second my door slams shut, I press my back against it, my breath coming out in ragged gasps. My hands are still trembling with anger, my chest tight with betrayal.

How could he do this to me?

How could she know and say nothing?

A sharp knock jolts me from my thoughts.

“Go away, Dakota!” I snap, my voice raw.

But the response isn’t hers.

“It’s not Dakota.”

I freeze.

That voice—low, smooth, calm—soothing.

Malakai.

For a moment, I just stand there, gripping the doorknob like it’s the only thing tethering me to reality.

They always sent Malakai when I was little. Whenever I threw a fit, when my anger burned too hot for anyone else to handle, it was always him who came.

And even now, years later, his voice has the same effect. The tension in my shoulders loosens just slightly.

I don’t want to open the door.

But I do.

The second it swings open, I’m met with piercing blue eyes, cool and steady beneath golden-blond hair. Malakai stands there, hands in his pockets, leaning against the doorframe like he has all the time in the world.

He doesn’t say anything right away. He just looks at me, really looks at me, and for a second, something in my chest aches.

Because he understands.

Because he always has.

Malakai doesn’t rush me. He never does.

He just stands there, watching me with that quiet patience of his, like he’s waiting for the storm inside me to settle. But it won’t. Not tonight. Not ever.

I cross my arms, desperate to shield myself from the way he sees me—too deeply, too clearly. “Say whatever you came to say and leave, Malakai.”

His lips twitch, just barely. “That’s not how this works, and you know it.”

I scowl. “How what works?”

“You.” His voice is maddeningly calm. “You spit fire, slam doors, curse the world—but you never really want to be alone.”

My stomach tightens.

Because he’s right.

Because he always sees past my anger to the fear beneath.

I let out a sharp, bitter laugh, my arms tightening around myself. “You talk like you know me so damn well,” I snap. “Like you have me all figured out.”

Malakai doesn’t react, doesn’t rise to my anger. He just watches me, steady and unshaken, like he always does.

And maybe that pisses me off even more.

I take a step closer, my voice dropping into something raw, something laced with betrayal. “Your fucking best friend sold me, Malakai.”

Something flickers in his blue eyes. A shadow, dark and unreadable.

“I know,” he says quietly.

I shake my head, a bitter laugh ripping from my throat. “Do you? Because you’re still here. Still loyal to him. Still standing in my room, acting like you give a shit while your best friend just handed me over to a fucking monster.”

Malakai’s jaw clenches.

And for the first time, something cracks through that cool exterior of his.

“I do give a shit, Riva,” he says, voice taut with something I can’t name. “More than you fucking know.”

I scoff, but before I can throw another bitter retort his way, he takes a step forward.

And suddenly, he’s too close.

Close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from him, the weight of his presence pressing into my space.

Close enough that my heart slams against my ribs in a way that has nothing to do with anger.

I press my hands to my temples, sucking in a shaky breath. “You always fix things. You always make things right.” My gaze finds his, desperate. “So fix this. Please.”

Malakai’s jaw clenches so tightly I swear I hear his teeth grind. His blue eyes are stormy, torn, like he’s fighting some invisible war inside himself.

And then, quietly, “It’s not that simple, Riva.”

I let out a broken laugh. “Of course it’s not.”

Nothing ever is.

I take a step back, my hands trembling at my sides. “Then what is simple, Malakai? Huh?” My voice rises, frantic now. “Watching me get handed over like I don’t have a fucking soul? Standing beside Cassian while he ruins my life?”

His nostrils flare. “That’s not fair.”

“Oh, fair?” I snap, my fury spiking again. “Fair would be me getting to choose, Malakai! Fair would be you standing with me, not him.”

My breath is ragged, my vision blurring with unshed tears. My chest feels like it’s caving in, like something deep inside me is fracturing beyond repair.

I swallow hard, my voice dropping into something raw, something fragile. “We made a blood oath when we were little.”

Malakai stiffens.

“You said you would protect me,” I whisper, searching his face, desperate for something—anything—that proves those words weren’t just empty promises.

His lips part, but no words come out.

I shake my head, a bitter laugh escaping. “Do you even remember that?” My voice cracks, my throat tightening. “Because I do.” I press a trembling hand against my chest. “I remember you slicing your palm open with Cassian’s knife and making me do the same. I remember you holding my hand, pressing our blood together, and swearing that you’d always be there.”

His jaw locks, his entire body going rigid.

“Where are you now, Malakai?” My voice wavers. “Because it sure as hell isn’t with me.”

Malakai closes his eyes for the briefest second, like my words are a blade sinking into his ribs. When he opens them again, his blue eyes are stormy, unreadable.

“I remember,” he says, voice rough.

I let out a sharp breath, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Then prove it.”

Something flickers in his gaze—guilt, torment, something darker.

He exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his golden hair. “Riva… you don’t understand what you’re asking me to do.”

I take a step forward, my fingers curling into fists at my sides. “No, Malakai. I do understand.” My voice is steel now, unwavering. “I’m asking you to be the person you promised you’d be. The person I trusted you to be.”

For a long moment, he just stares at me.

Then, so quiet I almost don’t hear it—

“I don’t break my promises.”

Something in my chest tightens painfully. “Then don’t start now.”

Malakai’s throat bobs as he swallows, his fists clenching at his sides. His entire body is taut, like he’s fighting a war I can’t see.

Then, softly—so softly it shatters me—he says, “I’m sorry, Riva.”

My stomach drops.

“But this has passed my hands.”

I stare at him, my pulse roaring in my ears. “No.” I shake my head, stumbling back a step. “No, don’t you dare say that.”

His face twists with something raw, something broken. “I would stop this if I could.” His voice is hoarse, uneven. “You have no idea how much I wish I could.”

His words feel like a slap.

Like a knife slipping between my ribs.

Because that means he won’t.

A hollow, strangled sound rips from my throat. “You’re Malakai,” I whisper, my vision blurring. “You fix things.” My breath shudders, my entire body trembling. “You fix me.”

Malakai flinches, like my words physically wound him. His blue eyes darken, stormy with something unreadable.

“I can’t fix this, Riva.” His voice is barely above a whisper. “Not this time.”

A sob rips from my throat as I stumble forward, collapsing against his chest. His arms wrap around me instantly, crushing me to him like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.

“I can’t do this,” I choke out.

Malakai presses his lips to my hair, his grip tightening.

“I know,” he murmurs.

And for the first time in my life, Malakai Voss can’t save me.