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We start toward the house and behind us, the ground shifts. None of us turn around. If we had…we would have seen three tiny shoots breaking through the dirt. One beneath the place where Malakai knelt. One where Rhett stood. And one where Ezra dug me free.

Three seeds.

Three men.

Waiting to grow.

10

Run Filthy Little Bride... Run

Rhett

Ezra thinks taking Sage back to the house will fix something.

Adorable.

Two hundred and sixty-three years old and still an optimist. He’d stab me for saying that. Which is precisely why I intend to do it later. For now, I watch Sage walk between Malakai and me with dirt streaked across her legs, and one stocking missing.

I know exactly what happened in that hollow. I don’t need details and I don’t particularly want them.

That’s a lie.

I want every fucking detail.

Also unfortunate.

The red ribbon circles her wrist. Blood stains the satin. Her hair is a mess. Her mouth is swollen.

Malakai has dirt across his chest and the insufferably calm expression of a man who has gotten exactly what he wanted.

I hate him.

Not really.

We’ve known each other for more than two centuries. He’s saved my life. I’ve saved his. We’ve buried bodies together. Been buried together. Watched entire generations come and go. I would tear this world apart for him. At the moment, however, I would also very much enjoy punching him in the mouth.

Interesting.

Jealousy remains unpleasant. I preferred it when I thought myself above it.

Sage glances at me and I smile then her eyes narrow. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“I was admiring your stocking.”

She looks down. “One is gone.”

“I noticed.”

“The ground ate the other one.”

“Tragic.”

“Along with my underwear.”