The smell of gunpowder is faint in the air, mixing with the coffee and smoke.
And in the window reflection, I catch movement—another figure watching me from outside.
Atticus.
He’s just standing there in the shadows, staring. His expression is unreadable, but there’s an intensity to it that makes my skin prickle.
I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I need answers. Now.
I storm toward the door, yanking it open. “Hey, asshole!”
The word echoes in the night air.
That’s when I see him.
Koa.
Standing there with Revan and Atticus, all three of them together, and my skin prickles with betrayal. They can’t befucking serious right now. My stomach drops out from under me, freefalling.
I search frantically for the nearest weapon I can find—there’s a boot by the door, muddy and abandoned. I grab it and lunge, throwing it at Koa with all the strength I have.
He dodges it easily, hands up. “Baby, I know you’re mad—”
“Mad?” I snap, throwing the boot at him. “You think I’m justmad?”
“Let me explain.”
“Fuck you!” The words tear out of me. “Let me explain something toyou—”
Then I stop. Look around. Really look.
These three men are here... together. Standing in a loose semicircle like they’re on the same team.
I look at Revan, who’s watching me, looking almost uncomfortable. Atticus, who’s staring at me with that unreadable glint in his eyes. And Koa, who looks genuinely terrified—of me, of this situation, of what might happen next.
“What the hell is going on?”
Revan speaks first. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up so I could tell you everything.”
I grind my teeth so hard I taste blood. Turn to Koa. “Where the fuck is my brother, Koa?”
I step right up to him, close enough to see that the swelling in his face, one eye is still bloodshot red, the white stained with broken vessels.
“I’m so fucking serious.”
“He’s in the other bedroom,” Revan says from behind me.
I whirl on him. “You couldn’t mention that in the house?” I push past him, shoving him hard enough that he stumbles. “Fucking useless!”
I can kill them later. Right now, I run back inside, slamming the door behind me hard enough that the frame shakes. Myhands are shaking as I start opening doors—closet, bathroom, another closet—until I find the one with Axel in it.
I close it quietly behind me, suddenly terrified of what I’ll find.
I walk to the edge of the bed on trembling legs. “Axel?” My voice breaks. “Axel. Wake up.”
I reach for his neck, feeling for his pulse, my heart hammering. It’s not a rational thought—he’s clearly breathing, clearly alive—but terror makes me check anyway. When I feel the steady thump under my fingers, relief crashes through me so hard I almost sob.
I shake him. “Axel.”
