All Chapters of Whispers of Loyalty: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

ALANAThe world looked different in the daylight. Still bleak, still teetering on the edge of something catastrophic but different. Sharper, like the edges had been carved with a blade meant to remind me that pain was real, and this wasn’t a dream I could wake from.Zach was alive. He was moving around now, out of bed, talking strategy, acting like the bullet hadn’t nearly shattered more than just his chest. And maybe that was his way of coping, staying busy, staying angry, staying focused. But me? I was hanging on by threads.I sat in the corner of the room, cross-legged in one of Zach’s shirts, staring at the wall. His scent wrapped around me, giving me both comfort and anxiety. The silence between us had grown louder ever since our fight, the one I wasn’t even sure I started for the right reasons. He’d kept things from me. Things about Benny. About how deep the rot really went. I was still furious, but more than that, I was afraid.Afraid that this thing between us - this volatile,

ALANAThe name Benny never left the room. Even when Zach stepped out for a smoke and silence crept in like fog, it hung thick in the air. It didn’t matter that we’d started planning, forming lists, dividing allegiances into categories of "trusted" and "watched." The moment Zach said Benny’s name, I saw something rupture in him - something jagged and raw, and still bleeding.And now, hours later, it was bleeding into me.My eyes flicked to the wall clock. 3:06 a.m.I sat at the long dining table alone, hunched over my notes, a black pen tapping restlessly against the wood. I'd rewritten the same three names four times already, each in their own column. Each in their own shade of doubt.Gia — Trusted.Leo — Watched.Micah — Watched.Gia was loyal. She'd proved herself ten times over, especially in the last few days. She didn’t ask too many questions, just moved like a shadow, did what needed to be done. Leo, on the other hand, his timing was always just a little too perfect. Micah wasn’

ALANAThere’s something about silence after violence.It doesn’t comfort. It doesn’t soothe. It’s sharp, echoing with everything that wasn’t said and everything that was done. And tonight, the silence feels like it’s screaming inside my skull.I stare at the blueprint spread across the long dining table, one of the few untouched surfaces left in this place that hasn’t been clawed by blood, gun oil, or desperation. Zach’s notes are messy, scrawled in sharp black strokes that slice across the pages like rage given form. Gia sits across from me, chewing on the tip of her pen like it's the only thing keeping her from breaking.They’re talking. Strategizing. But all I hear is static.I can’t stop thinking about what he said last night.“Your father knew. He knew everything. And he told me I’d have to end him before this was over.”I hadn’t responded. I couldn’t. Not then. Not when it felt like someone had cracked my ribcage open and stuffed it with ice.Because it wasn’t just about Zach do

ALANAThe silence in the room didn’t feel like peace. It felt like the kind of quiet that came before a war cry, the sound just before the arrow let loose, the moment just before your name is called, and you know your life is about to change.Zach’s eyes flicked toward me like he felt the shift in me before I even opened my mouth.I stood at the window of the safehouse, arms crossed tightly over my chest, not because I was cold, but because if I didn’t hold myself together, I might shatter into too many pieces for anyone to put back together again.“I think we’re ready,” I said finally, voice low, steady. I didn’t even know what I meant until the words were out. But Zach understood. He always fucking understood me.He nodded once from where he sat at the edge of the table, shoulders hunched forward, fingers steepled like a man on the edge of prayer or execution. “Yeah,” he murmured. “We’ve got enough to move. It’s time.”Gia leaned against the wall with a cup of coffee that had gone c

ALANA“No more second chances,” I whispered.And I meant it.Zach’s arms stayed tight around me, but his grip wasn’t desperate, it was resolute. Like something inside him had hardened. Or maybe something inside both of us had.The air between us didn’t shift. It thickened.His cheek rested against my temple, his breathing slow but strained. I could feel the faint tremble under his skin, not from fear, but from what it had cost him. What he’d just done. What he’d chosen.“I told you I’d do what needed to be done,” he said quietly, voice rough from smoke and silence.“And I believe you.”I pulled back just enough to look up at him. The heat between us wasn’t lust. It wasn’t love, even. Not in this moment. It was war. It was blood-bonded loyalty carved in bone-deep promise.“You’re still bleeding,” I said.He shook his head. “It’s not mine.”His shirt was dark with streaks near the collar. His hands stained. There were still splashes on his boots. But he’d already washed his soul with fi