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“What happened to Marc?”

“He’s dead. I’m sorry.” Daphne cries out as Violet grabs her hand, urging her along. “We need to go.”

I scan the property for the third guard as we make our way out of the church and across the property. Mila runs towards Mikhail, who’s fighting an unexpected sixth guard.

“Dahlia!” Dean’s voice roars as he sprints past me. My gaze follows his path; I grab Violet’s hand and take off with the girls.

The third guard is holding Dahlia against a tree, his hand around her throat. He turns just as Dean body slams him to the ground, knife thrust into the back of his head. Dahlia heaves in and out, then her gaze reaches us and her eyes go wide.

“Daphne?” She runs in our direction, my gaze narrowing in on the limp she’s trying to hide. Dahlia throws her arms around her sister and sobs.

“We need to go,” I whisper as I walk up behind her. I open the hemostatic gauze and begin to pack the wound.

“Aghh!” She cries out.

“Dahlia!” Dean holds one arm around her waist, the other over her shoulders as she grips his arms, bracing through the pain. Once it’s packed, I grab a cloth from my bag and tie a tight knot around her thigh. “You’re riding back with me,” Dean growls. Dahlia shakes her head.

“I can’t. We won’t all fit on one.”

Dean’s nostrils flare as he heaves a breath. “We need to go,” he says, then he scoops her up, bridle-style, and starts through the woods.

Mikhail and Mila catch up with us as we make our way through the woods. Then we head out on the sleds: Mikhail and Mila, Dahlia, Dean and Daphne, then Violet and I.

My chest tightens more and more as we make our way back. My eyes are on Dahlia the entire twenty minutes back.

We park, and I jump off my sled as I see Dahlia pull off her helmet and ski mask. She looks pale, if that’s even possible for her. She stands up, wobbling on her injured leg.

“Dean…” She faintly cries his name. He jumps off his sled, pulls off his helmet, and grabs her as she stumbles into his arms.

“Doll… Doll!” He pats her cheek, then scoops her up in his arms.

“I’m sorry… You were right, I shouldn’t have come.” She rests her head on his shoulder.

“Violet!” He yells, Violet already on her way to them.

Then Dahlia whispers, “I love you…”

Violet

Chapter 39

Mrawr!

A happy meow from Snowdrop pricks my ears when we enter Cain’s apartment. I scoop him in my arms; he nudges my chin, and I cuddle into his thick, fluffy fur. Cain places his hand on my waist and kisses my shoulder as he walks past to the bathroom. The space is destroyed. From Marcus and what I imagine was Cain searching for clues and raging. He wasn’t going to bring us back here before Dahlia got injured. Until she’s able to go home, we want to stay nearby.

I guess Cain’s been building a house in the woods for years. Where he finds the time, I don’t know. That man never sleeps. It started as a project to give him a place to escape, where he and Dean would hang out away from Alistair. When he decided we would be together, he began expanding it and turning it into a real home.

But for the next couple of days, we’ll be here. We’ll get some rest for the night, then tomorrow I’ll work to clean the place up.

“It’s ready.” Cain’s voice calls me back from my musings. He’s leaning on the doorframe as he looks over me. And the shell I have become over the past week. I’ve refused to look in the mirror, but I know I’m in rough shape.

My hair, my body, my blood.

Cain usually enjoys the sight of my blood. He gets excited, his energy bubbling beneath the surface as he sucks on my flesh. Not now. Not under these circumstances. His brow wrinkles and his gaze turns hard when he looks at my dress.

I set Snowball down and walk into the steaming bathroom. The large claw tub is filled with hot water. The door clicks, and Cain pulls his shirt over his head, dropping it on the counter.

“What are you doing?” I ask as he drops his trousers and sets them on the counter. I swallow as I look over him. His muscles sculpted straight from marble. He’s lean, leaving every curve and edge pronounced. Then his scars. The ridges, canyons, and divots.