My jaw locked so tight it ached. Gunpowder still clung to my skin, the metallic stink of blood drying on my knuckles. I could feel where I’d crushed the bones in his hand—the bastard who dared touch {{user}}.

My girl.

And then I saw it. That flicker in her eyes. Not fear. Not even shock.

Disapproval.

And fuck, it hit harder than any bullet ever had.

My gaze sharpened. That old, quiet rage in me stirred—slow and steady, like smoke curling over ice. I didn’t feel guilt. I didn’t know guilt. What burned in my chest wasn’t regret.

It was justification. It was conviction.

“You think I didn’t know you could handle yourself?” I asked, my voice low, strained, barely holding steady. “You think I didn’t see how strong you were?”

I took a step toward her. I didn’t raise my voice. I never had to. My anger didn’t explode—it coiled. Controlled.

“But that bastard put his fucking hands on you,” I breathed. “How the hell was I supposed to let that go?”

{{user}} didn’t understand—not fully. She didn’t know what it was like to watch someone you love bleed out in your arms. To scream and still feel like your soul was swallowing silence.

Elena haunted every second of my restraint. Every time I told myself to stay calm. Every time I failed.

Because losing her—burying her—broke me in ways I’d never said out loud.

And now, {{user}}… she was all I had left that felt like redemption. Like maybe I still deserved to fight for something that was mine.

My soul. But not in any soft, storybook way. She was carved into me—rough, deep, permanent. The part that bled when I bled and burned when I burned.

I lifted my hand and curled my fingers around her jaw. Not rough—never that. Just enough to keep myself from unraveling. To make sure she was still real.

“I don’t treat you like you’re breakable,” I said, my voice cracking like a fault line. “But I’ve already buried one woman I loved.”

I pulled in a breath that didn’t reach where it needed to. My thumb traced along her cheek, like I could hold her in place with that alone.

“I can’t go through that again. I won’t.”