Raven Ridge Manor looms ahead, a black wound carved into the earth. She hesitates before the threshold, her fingers tightening in mine in a way that makes me want to turn around and run with her into the night until our lungs give out.
But running won’t save her.
Not anymore.
“We do this my way,” I tell her, lowly, calmly, because I need her to think I’m steady. “No one touches you. No one comes near you. And Milus…” I stop, the name bitter in my mouth. “Hedoesn’t get to breathe in your direction unless I fucking permit it.”
Nellie nods, but fear flickers in her eyes like a candle fighting wind. I squeeze her hand, and then I let go, because walking her through the gate while holding her like that would get us both killed.
We haven’t yet shown our cards, our hand still face down on the table. It doesn’t matter what Milus thinks we feel or don’t feel for one another. I have the best poker face of all my brothers, I take after my father in that way, it’s why I always suffered for it.
The Obsidian wanted her brought back to stop her opening her mouth about us. My father wanted her back because as far as he’s concerned that baby belongs to him. And they think I wanted her back to dissect the child from her, and string her up with a noose for abandoning her Pair.
Penelope's hand slips from mine slowly, like the break of a final thread.
Inside, the halls smell like cold stone and old secrets. Sconces crackle against the walls as if hissing warnings. Nellie keeps her head down, but every pair of eyes we pass follows her.
My Pair.
My pregnant Pair.
I want to gouge out their eyes, stuff them down their throats, and rip out their teeth.
Instead, I force my breathing into something almost even and walk with the posture of a man who belongs here, because that is my camouflage, my prison, and right now, her only shield.
When we make it to our suite, I lock the door behind us, and she collapses onto the bed, shaking.
“I’ll fix this,” I whisper, kneeling in front of her. “I’ll fixallof it.”
Her voice is small. “How?”
By doing the only thing my father respects.
Violence.
I kiss her forehead once, softly.
Then I leave.
And the moment the door shuts behind me, Bram, Tolly and Rune, all guarding her, the mask I wore for her fractures into something far more dangerous.
Tonight, I won’t sleep, won’t wait.
I’ll do what should’ve been done months ago.
The manor sleeps like a great animal, breathing slow, dangerous breaths. Doors bolted, sconces guttering, the hallways humming with the silence of obedience. Every stone knows my father’s name. Every corridor bends to his shadow. But tonight that shadow will feel me stalking it.
I move without sound, years of training making it easy. The cold seeps into the metal of the pistol I carry, numbing my fingers. And I’m glad for it, because if emotion heats me, I will act on it, and acting on it means blood I can’t spill.
Not yet.
Mother’s story echoes like a wound in my skull.
‘He told me my baby died.’
Secrets within secrets.
Lies old enough to have roots embedded into the very walls.
