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The group stood in silence, listening to the sound of Jaden’s crushed SUV starting and sputtering away.
No one had told the heir to the Blood Rose where they were going. No one had made any indication that they were leaving at all. They’d managed to change clothes and pack, but they’d kept the bags out of Jaden’s line of sight.
Now that he was gone, they were able to speak freely.
Logan drew a deep breath and said, “You’re leaving?”
“We’re going to Yveswich,” Max said. “If we stay here, we’re no better than sitting ducks. And if the imperator hired those people to kill us, he’ll be going after Darien next.”
“If he hasn’t already,” Lace said with a shudder. She looked like she wanted to throw up.
That made two of them.
Sabrine faced Dallas. “You’re going with, aren’t you?”
Dallas nodded, and the wolf stepped forward to embrace her friend.
Max said to Logan, “I’d offer for you to stay at Hell’s Gate, but I’m not sure you want to be here right now.”
“I can stay with the Guardian Pack,” Logan said. “I’ve got a lot of options.” As alpha of all wolf packs, he could stay with any he wanted—and could have moved into his father’s mansion after his death, but had chosen not to. The Guardian Pack lived in that mansion, guarded it. It would be an obvious place to look for the Key of Sapientia, but—
“What about the key?” Max asked Logan.
Logan drew another deep breath, visibly working on calming the tremors now tearing through his thickly muscled body. A wolf could only go so long without shifting; he would have to do it soon. “Knowing my dad, he did a really good job hiding it. But I’ll look.”
Max’s eyes swept over the group, lingering on Lace and Travis. “You just about ready?”
Malakai made his away across the room, toward the front doors. “I need to swing by my place and talk to the others. You want to meet me there, and we’ll head out?”
Max nodded. “Sure. Sounds good.”
Malakai’s gaze snapped to his sister. “Jewely?”
She walked to his side, throwing a backward glance over her shoulder at Travis—a glance everyone in the room noticed.
Things were changing—in more ways than one. Before they’d branched out and made these new, unlikely friendships, they’d already had a lot to lose, but they had even more at stake now.
82
Roman’s House
YVESWICH, STATE OF KER
The following evening, Loren lounged in an armchair in Roman’s living room as the sky darkened outside.
This romance novel was really good. She was about two hundred pages in, so roughly halfway. She had reached the point where she wanted to savor the story, but at the same time couldn’t resist binging it. When she’d first plopped down in this chair and cracked open the paperback, she’d found her floral bookmark saving her place in chapter twelve. She’d started from the beginning, of course, since she couldn’t remember reading this title. But the more pages she turned, flipping past the twelfth chapter, the more the story picked at her brain.
She had read this before—the whole thing. More than once.
The page crackled as Loren flipped to the next one. It was peacefully quiet in here. The others were scattered throughout the house—doing target practice in the shooting range, playing video and board games in the attic. All of the usuals were here, including Paxton and Eugene. The only person who wasn’t here was Darien, who’d left to run errands. Loren had the lamplit living room all to herself, and she was quite enjoying it, a mug of chamomile tea steaming on the coffee table. This was glorious.
Darien walked through the front door, snow cone in hand. But she didn’t mind; if anyone was going to disrupt her, she’d prefer it was Darien.
As soon as he spotted her, he stayed quiet as he crossed the room, boots thumping, and sat down on the leather couch across from her.
Loren peeked up at him, book still open in her hands.
“You ever had a snow cone before?” he asked her. He dug the plastic spoon out of the dome of fruit-flavored crushed ice and took a bite.
