Reaper glances over his shoulder to the open door. “Don’t know.”
In the hallway, three soldiers lie in heaps on the floor, blood smearing the walls behind them. 55 kneels at the foot of the stairs leading to the kitchen, hands clasped behind his head.
“Don’t shoot him,” Reaper says as I raise my rifle. “He’s the one who unlocked my cuffs.”
I glance at Reaper, then move forward, taking the stairs two at a time. When we reach the top step, we’re met with an eerie silence. I lock eyes with Reaper. He senses it too. The dead stillness. The missing piece. My jaw clenches as I surge forward, and sprint through the house, my heart slamming against my ribs.
The hallway to her room stretches impossibly long as I storm toward Delilah’s room, Reaper a half-step behind me.
Iknow, even before I open her bedroom door.
It slams against the wall as I burst through, my eyes landing on her empty, messy bed. For a second, the world narrows to just the sound of my breathing and the echoing silence.
Fallon’s taken her.
Sent her back.
The thought wrings me out. Strips every bullshit veneer away.
I stumble backward, my vision blurring, barely seeing through the dark tunnel of my own fucking stupidity. How could we let this happen? I let my guard down. We all did. Let need and hunger and greed drive us, just as we let the mission take over all humanity for far too long.
It was always the mission. Secure, extract, train. Every fucking time I,we, chose his orders over the suffocating need to just hold her and keep her safe, we failed her. We thought we could manipulate our father by feeding his ego like we’ve always done. But now Delilah is gone.
Sent back to Rune.
Exactly like we fucking planned.
A low growl from Reaper beside me, then he’s in motion, his grating voice echoing down the hallway, screaming for Fallon. I stomp through the house behind him, rage pulsing in my veins. The closer we get to the west wing, the closer I am to losing control. When we reach the study, Reaper slams the door open so hard the sound cracks through the room.
Fallon doesn’t even blink as we stalk toward him, standing in front of the dark, empty fireplace like he had been waiting.
“Where the fuck is she?” I growl, dread eating my gut, making it churn.
“Gone,” Fallon says. “Now we pray she’s capable of completing her task.”
“He’s going to kill her,” I snarl. My fingers flex on the rifle, itching to end him. I set it down, not trusting myself to maintain control.
“If that’s her fate, then so be it,” Father says. “You knew the risks when we decided to do this.”
“That was before—” I slam my mouth shut.
Before she was ours. Before she was something we were scared to lose.
Reaper marches forward, and grabs Father by his collar. “She wasn’t ready.”
“She was never going to be ready,” Fallon snaps, attempting to shove Reaper back. “That girl was a tool. You are the one who let these useless emotions play into this.”
I laugh bitterly.
“You are to blame for this mess,” Fallon says, pointing at Reaper’s face. “You made the mistake of falling in love with your target. Of falling for the woman who destroyed our lives.”
“Your greed destroyed us,” I seethe.
Fallon rips Reaper’s hand off him, glaring at me. “That fucking woman has cost me enough.”
Reaper taps his chest, leaning in so close to Fallon’s face our father takes a step back. “If she dies, her blood is on your hands.”
“Her blood has been on your hands for fifteen years!” Father shouts. “That’s the cost of being marked by the devil.”
