Page 162 of Lured By Shadows

But I couldn’t drown in it.

I couldn’t let myself collapse beneath the full weight of everything all at once.

So I stayed with Sienna as long as I could.

I held her hand. Brushed her hair back from her damp face. Murmured soft comforts that felt painfully thin even while I said them. I stayed until the trembling in her body eased into something steadier, until Oliver finally stepped forward fully and wrapped her against him with quiet desperation.

Then I left.

Because I couldn’t stand there drowning in their grief while mine remained tangled around something I could never explain to them.

And because what I needed most in that moment was him.

The monster standing quietly across the way with blood hidden beneath his fingernails and violence still breathing beneath his skin.

The only person who could hold me together even as everything else threatened to split me apart.

I skipped my last lecture without hesitation. I could talk to Kiera later. I could explain things to her later. Right then, all I knew was that I needed Culver the same way lungs needed air, even when the air itself burned going down.

When I turned toward him, I didn’t speak. I didn’t need to.

I stepped directly into his arms and let him catch me, my body folding into his like it had finally been given permission to give out completely. He held me instantly, as though he’d already known the moment was coming.

There were no questions. Just the quiet strength of his body wrapped around mine, his fingers threading through my hand with a certainty that made my chest ache painfully. Every time my thoughts drifted toward the photos, toward the blood, the carved words, and the mangled bodies burned into my head, his grip tightened slightly, a silent pulse of pressure reminding me to stay anchored to him instead.

He took me away from the school, away from the whispers already crawling up my spine like insects. He drove us back to his estate with the kind of terrifying focus that made it feel as though the entire world had narrowed down to one singular purpose: getting me somewhere safe before he lost whatever thin restraint he still possessed.

The pavilion sat tucked into the farthest edge of the property beneath the soft shadows of autumn trees, hidden away from the rest of the estate like a secret too sacred to expose. Warm strands of light glowed overhead, casting golden halos across pale stone while faux leaves curled around the columns, their amber and burnt-orange colors catching the light like embers suspended in air.

It looked unreal.

Like something stolen from Olympus itself and lowered carefully into the mortal world.

A shrine built for a sinner like me.

He gestured for me to sit, and I lowered myself slowly onto the plush circular bench. Warmth bloomed beneath me almost immediately, heat spreading through the cushions and into my hips and thighs, easing the tension from my body inch by inch. I leaned back against the softness and let the stillness drape over me like some heavy, expensive cloak.

The grief didn’t disappear.

But around Culver, it softened into something bearable. Like a nightmare remembered in daylight… still horrifying, still real, but less capable of swallowing me whole while he stood beside me.

A small, brittle giggle slipped from my throat, half-strangled beneath the weight pressing against my chest. The warmth beneath me, the golden lights overhead, the man standing in front of me… It all felt impossibly surreal beside the horror of the morning. I looked at him, my eyes distant but softened by something far more dangerous than comfort.

“I guess,” I murmured quietly, curling my fingers into the heated cushion beneath me, “we needa talk about it.”

He inhaled deeply, like he’d been waiting for the words to finally take shape. Then he lowered himself in front of me, kneeling with a terrifying sort of discipline that made my breath hitch sharply in my throat.

His eyes never left mine as his knees touched the ground. And suddenly I was above him.

Like some goddess seated in a shrine while something ancient bowed at her feet.

He reached for me carefully, almost reverently, like he genuinely believed I might shatter if he moved too quickly.

“Okay,” he said softly, his voice calm enough to disguise the violence humming beneath it. “Tell me what troubles you.”

“You know what I’m talking about,” I whispered, my voice catching as my fingers slid through his dark hair. Even now, after everything he’d done, the reality of him still didn’t fully register in my mind. That he was real, that I was touching him, that the terrifying thing between us still existed after blood had already been spilled for me. “Don’t make me drag it outta you.”

His arms circled my waist slowly as he pulled himself closer, settling between my legs with the kind of inevitability that made my pulse stutter. Like my body was somewhere he belonged. Somewhere he intended to remain, either for the final time or forever.