Lucian crouched in front of me. Careful not to touch. His storm gray eyes swept over my face, cataloguing every injury with an expression that promised violence later.
“Are you hurt?”
I shook my head, then nodded, then laughed because I didn’t actually know. But I was alive. I was alive and Hudson wasn’t standing over me anymore.
“I need to leave.” My voice came out wrecked, barely a whisper. “I need to go somewhere he can’t find me.”
Except I’ve already done that, and the realization that I’m back at square one sends unwelcome anger flooding through my chest.
“Our cabin.” Percy says, his hand hovering near my shoulder like he wanted to touch but was waiting for permission. “It’s secluded. Secure. He won’t be able to-”
“No.” I cut him off. The word was automatic, reflex.
I didn’t know these men. Even if they did save me and they seem to know me, they are still strangers. I should learn my lesson.
“I don’t know you. I don’t-”
I stopped.
Breathed.
And looked at them.
The room tilted sideways for a second, and I saw... a vision.
A flash of warmth and a stone fireplace. My head resting against someone’s shoulder, heavy with sleep I hadn’t meant to fall into. The low murmur of voices talking over me, around me, as if I was worth protecting.
Followed by the familiar sound of my own voice, drowsy and unguarded. “I haven’t felt safe in so long. I’m scared this won’t last.”
The memory, or whatever it was, slipped away before I could grab it. But the feeling stayed.
Which made no sense. I didn’t let my guard down. Not anymore. Surely not with anyone.
None of this makes any goddamn sense.
“Do we...” I swallowed hard. “Do we actually know each other? Before the fire, I mean. Did we meet somewhere? Because you keep looking at me like...”
I didn’t finish the sentence. I didn’t know how.
“Yes.” Solomon’s voice was steady. “We knew each other, Mira. And you trusted us.”
“But I don’t remember you.” The words came out harsher than I intended. “How am I supposed to believe that? How am I supposed to trust something I’m not sure is real?”
Percy and Solomon exchanged a look. Lucian just kept watching me with those storm-gray eyes, and for a second, I could have sworn I saw pain across his face.
“What do your instincts tell you?” Lucian asked. “Right now. At this moment. What do they say?”
A laugh scraped out of my throat. “If I had good instincts, I wouldn’t be in this situation. I wouldn’t have dated Hudson for two years. I wouldn’t have ignored every red flag he waved in my face. My instincts are shit.”
“We will never hurt you.” Percy’s voice had gone serious with raw sincerity. “I know you don’t remember us. I know you have no reason to believe that. But I’m saying it anyway. We will never,everhurt you.”
“We would rather die,” Solomon added, and the flat certainty in his tone made my chest tight.
I wanted to argue. Wanted to point out that every abuser in history had probably said the same thing at some point. That promises meant nothing and words were cheap. Actions were the only currency that mattered.
But I looked around the wrecked inn room. The shattered phone, the broken window and the ceramic dust from a lamp I’d used as a weapon.
I was alone.Completely, utterly alone.
