I couldn’t look away from him.
Couldn’t unscramble fact from fiction because he’d turned into such a chameleon. Who exactlywashe? What part of him was real? Had any of the moments we’d shared been true? Or was I just the fool he’d trained and cultivated—turning me into a weapon?
But if I was, why me?
He could’ve used any other girl. Any other foolish,ridiculousgirl who stupidly thought she had feelings for him. Someone who didn’t blackout.
My heart sank.
I’d let this man in.
I’d treated him sincerely but...what if he’d merely been moving people around on his chessboard—playing a long game of strategy, sacrificing what needed to be sacrificed, and lying so convincingly?
I swallowed hard as tears ached.
Maybe I’d been nothing more than the chess piece my namesake said I was. A rook used to claim checkmate.
A big black paw appeared from beneath the weeping maple branches.
Whisper’s golden eyes caught mine as if he could taste my heartbreak.
I sucked in a breath as the wet-slick panther slunk out and—
Four guns whipped back up, fingers pressing on triggers.
Instinct screamed at me to move—to put myself between Whisper and those weapons—
Lucien moved first.
“Don’t hurt her!” His hand snatched tight around mine and hauled me backward—placing me solidly behind him. Shielding me. Hiding me with his body as if his fear hadn’t been for his best friend but...for me.
My aching heart ignited with truth.
No matter what lies he said or tricks he used...this thing between us? Thissomethingwe both didn’t want to name...was real.
He’d pulled me out of harm’s way. Protected me over his beloved panther. And nothing he said—no story he spun or lie he could weave—could change that.
He stiffened, realising what he’d done.
What he’d just revealed...to all of us.
My headache reached burnout levels.
God, Iwasan idiot.
But only because I’d doubted him when all I had to do was focus on the unexplainable bond between us. The crazy, incredible connection that couldn’t be faked.
My hand—still gripping the knife—pressed against his damp shirt. The blade snagged on cotton as I breathed in his heat, his violence, his unwanted admission that hecared.
He stiffened as if he didn’t want me touching him, then shuddered as I pressed my forehead to his spine.
Whatever game Lucien was playing, this moment was real. The night he’d killed Evelyn and Lydia to protect me. The days he’d pressed his wrist to my lips to give me his blood. The way he kissed me as if I’d stolen his very soul.
Those. Were.Real.
And if he needed me to help him win whatever battle he fought...so be it.
Pushing off him, I shifted to his side.
