Page 131 of The Endless Want

Inside, the safehouse smells of pine cleaner and old wooden beams. The floors creak. The lamps give off soft amber light. It’s the kind of place that looks like it hasn’t seen a woman inside in ten years.

Ailish mutters, “It’s quaint,” against my shoulder.

I huff out something that might be a laugh.

I get her settled in a bedroom on the second floor—clean sheets, heavy blankets, a window overlooking a field of tall grass. She exhales slowly when her back hits the mattress. Her eyelids sag with exhaustion.

“You should have a midwife look at you,” I say. My voice is too sharp. Too full of fear.

She nods once. “Mackenzie knows someone, I’m sure. One call.”

“I’ll make it.”

After that, there’s nothing to do but wait. Ailish sleeps in short fits, waking once to curl a hand around mine, whispering, “Don’t leave.”

As if I could.

But I need to call Liam. So I step out onto the porch, rub both hands over my face, and dial him.

He answers on the second ring. “Tell me she’s safe.”

“She is. Barely.” My jaw works. “Liam—she had signs of early labor.”

There’s a pause long enough for the wind to whistle through the line. “Tell me the baby’s still alive.”

“They’re both alive. But she’s not going anywhere for a while.”

Liam exhales, but it’s not relief—it’s frustration mixed with fear. “Declan, listen to me. You staying with her⁠—”

“I’m not leaving her.”

“You have to,” he says, voice low and firm. “We need you. There’s movement on the pipeline. A border estate. They’re not done aiming for us. If you stay with her, we lose ground we don’t have.”

He’s right. And I hate that he’s right. “I can’t just abandon her,” I snap.

“You’re not abandoning her. You’re protecting her by fighting for her. But right now, I need my brother at my side, not gone missing in the countryside.”

I grit my teeth so hard it hurts. “She needs me.”

“And the war needs you more,” he says quietly. “If you don’t help me hit back, none of us survive long enough for that baby to be born.”

The truth of it is a weight I feel in my bones. “Let me stay the night,” I say. “Just the night.”

There’s a long pause. “One night. But you leave by sunrise.”

“Liam—”

“One night.” He hangs up.

I stare at my phone. My hand shakes before I shove it into my pocket.

Ailish is sleeping when I return. The room is dim except for the small lamp in the corner. She looks so small under the blankets. So breakable. And she’s never been breakable.

I sit beside her on the bed. Not touching. Not trusting myself to.

When she stirs, I reach for her hand. “Ailish,” I say quietly. “Wake up, love.”

Her eyes flutter open. She blinks at me a few times, as if making sure I’m real. “You’re back.”