Malik turned to me with a smirk, his eyes glinting with mischief.
“I told you we’d be safe on this journey.”
His voice was light, teasing.
I narrowed my eyes at him, shivering against the cold.
The skies had split above us, dumping relentless sheets of rain on our heads.
Roman rode on my other side, his jaw tight against the miserable weather.
Emily, Marcellious, and Rosie were tucked safely inside one of the wagons, spared from the worst downpour.
I tugged my fur-lined coat tighter around me, pushing aside a wet strand of hair clinging to my cheek.
“What’s your definition of safe?” I muttered.
Malik grinned. “Not having a darkness on our tail.”
The words sent a chill through me that had nothing to do with the rain.
Ahead, Count Montego slowed his horse, letting us catch up.
“Are we near your estate, Malik?” he called over the rain. “I’ll certainly feel better once the ladies are safe and dry.”
Malik lifted his chin toward the distant hill rising before us.
“Indeed. My home is just over that rise.”
Relief flickered across the count’s face. “Good, good.”
But when we reached the crest of the hill?—
Malik’s expression froze.
Then, it darkened into something lethal.
His estate had been razed to the ground.
Nothing but charred ruins and smoldering wreckage remained.
A vision of Costa’s ruined villa flashed in my mind.
The same devastation.
The same cold, merciless destruction.
Malik’s body went rigid. Then, with no hesitation, he spurred his horse into a gallop.
Roman and the count tore after him.
A sick feeling coiled in my gut.
I kicked my horse’s flanks and followed.
We reached the ruins, our horses splashing through puddles of rainwater mixed with soot and ash.
Malik reined in his horse abruptly, staring at the wreckage.
