Unknown number: Did you like my gift? I decorated just for you. Welcome home, Bloom. Mother is waiting.
Blooms and Branches—Terra’s shitty names for her “daughters” and “sons.”
Another comes through before I can show Valen.
Unknown number: Photo sent.
It’s of me, at the compound, sitting on the porch steps after I vomited. It’s taken from a distance, but she was there, in the woods, following us.
And now, I truly know there’s nowhere left to run.
Handing Valen my phone, I close my eyes and fall back into a land where Prince Valor has always saved his Honey Queen. Except this time, I know without a doubt that the queen will have to sting first.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
VALEN
The safe house is nothing like our typical outfits.
It’s not some sterile space hiding in plain sight in the middle of a city—which is my preferred style—but a cabin. It’s rustic, secluded, and nestled deep in the White Mountains with a view that would be breathtaking if I had the capacity to appreciate beauty right now.
I don’t though.
All I can see is Clover’s face when I walked into that room—color drained, hands clawing at her throat—and her scream still rings in my head.
Roman secured this place in under an hour. It’s not one of our team’s properties, kept off the grid for situations exactly like this. No, we needed something that couldn’t be traced to anyone we’ve ever known.
Grant had to call in a favor with his contact at the FBI, which has now put us on his radar too, but we’re out of options. My cousins say we can trust this guy, and there’s no one I trust more than my cousins.
“She’ll be okay,” Chief says from the kitchen. He’s making coffee even though it’s nearly ten at night. “Kid’s tougher than she looks.”
Silently, I watch Clover through the open bedroom door. She’s curled up in the bed in clothes she didn’t bother to change out of. Wrecks is pressed against her back while she trembles so hard the whole bed quivers.
And her fucking right foot is draped over the edge of the bed while her toes tap against the floorboards in a steady rhythm that breaks loose the last threads holding my heart together.
This is her sorting the pieces in her mind until she forms a puzzle that makes sense.
And it’s no way to live.
What would have happened if I’d found my way to her that fateful night? If I hadn’t forgotten about her? Would she still fear life, or would she be the sneakily vibrant star she was born to be?
Terra’s text message proved that she could reach her anywhere, and Clover knows it. Her teeth chatter, but her unfocused gaze hasn’t left the blank wall before her.
I tried turning up the heat and piling blankets on top of her. I tried holding her until she finally pushed me away without a word. The sadness in her gaze nearly stopped the blood flowing in my veins.
So now I’m giving her space, but I can’t leave. I can’t walk away or stop watching her to ensure she’s still breathing. It’s a wildly unfounded fear, but it doesn’t stop me from counting how many times her chest rises per minute.
“Valen.” Roman’s voice pierces my count. He’s standing in the family room, arms crossed, staring at me with the same expression he wore when I was an angry twenty-year-old, pissed off at the world and preparing to do something stupid and reckless. “You need to eat something. Shower. For fuck’s sake, sleep.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” He gets in my face. It’s what a good brother should do, but I’m not in the fucking mood. “When Clover getsup—because she will get up—she’s going to need you functional. Not running on fumes and guilt.”
Guilt. It’s the crushing sensation in my chest that I’ve lived with for as long as I’ve had memories.
So many times, I should have protected her, and so many times I’ve failed.
I’ve only lived this torment once. This is a repeat performance for her, and I can’t even remember what my own fucking mother did to us, so I have no idea what she’s planning.
