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None of them have mentioned what happens on the other side of this Pledging ceremony. Once Thorne’s plan has been completed. The unknown of how life will look and feel after I’ve served my purpose is like a bell tolling in the far distance.
They say I’m their property—that they own me and intend to keep me. They’re ruthlessly possessive and willing to murder for me. But once they take control of Noire House will that still ring true, or will the rules shift with a new playing field.
It feels as though that inescapable horizon is approaching far too fast.
The storm keeps on brewing and manifesting, and I know it’s only a matter of time before we’re consumed by the force of it. But for now, that’s a concern I keep to myself.
I have to focus on surviving one day at a time.
“Come on.” Ky is the first to make a move. Giving our wild wolf a kiss on the shoulder before tugging on Thorne’s arm. “And please, please, can someone make it a priority to organize getting a big enough bed to fit all four of us.”
60
Iblink a few times. Pre-dawn murkiness still clouds my sight as I roll over. Every limb feels languid with the pull of sleep, and all I want to do is curl around my girl. Leave me to lie here for an eternity, please and thank you, with my little Fox’s sweetness to act as a balm to my sins.
My arm stretches toward the place where I’m expecting to find feminine curves and softness, but my fingers only glide over cool sheets. At first I wonder if one of the others has stolen her to their side during the night. When we all collapsed into Thorne’s massive bed together, Ven had her tucked tight against his chest. But only after first stealing her away to spend hours in the bath together, just the two of them.
At least we survived without losing Ven to his darkness entirely. Sweet Fox has no idea the power she truly holds over that man. When they finally emerged, she pulled him into the bed to join us. Truth be told, I was more than happy to wriggle in on the other side with Thorne’s steady presence at my back and heavy arm draped over my waist.
Although, now, when I pop my head up off the pillow to sit up a little, all I see is Ven’s shaggy mess of dark hair as he lies sprawled out and face-down. To my other side is Thorne’s face, softened with sleep.
I don’t want to panic or disturb either of them, but after the shit that has been going on lately, they won’t hesitate to kill me if I don't wake them up.
There’s no telling how paranoid we need to be, with threats seemingly popping up every direction we turn.
I reach across Ven’s back in order to grab my phone off the nightstand. Quickly opening the tracking to look for her location. The fucking thing is still offline, and now my heart really starts to pound.
It doesn’t matter that I was asleep barely a minute ago; adrenaline rushes in like a stampede, and now my feet are moving of their own accord. Both Thorne and Ven stir as I hurl myself out of the bed.
She could be in the bathroom. Or the kitchen.
Or not.
Fuck.
Dragging a pair of sweats on that lie crumpled on the floor, I couldn’t give a shit if they’re mine or not, and I’m halfway to the kitchen when I hear the others hard on my heels.
“Tracking is still off,” I inform them.
Ven curses. His throat thick with sleep.
There’s only silence rippling off Thorne, his worry is instantaneous.
My phone is at my ear as I dial her number, and that’s when I stop dead. A dull vibration rebounds off the top of the kitchen island, only a few paces in front of me.
And the room is sickeningly empty.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Dread cements itself in the pit of my stomach. Everything feels like it’s spiraling out of control, and this girl—this fucking lilac-haired wonder that I’ve fallen so hard and so fast for—is at risk no matter what any of us seem to do.
There’s no time to fuck around with questions about why the tracking device isn’t functioning. I don’t have answers to half the crap that seems to be happening. She’s not here, and the worst part is, I’ve already halfway convinced myself that she’s left us.
That she’s finally woken up after all these weeks and decided to run.
If we go after Fox, we might successfully get her back in physical form, but mentally? Would forcing her to return if she’s chosen to escape finally be the thing that tips her over the edge into a place where she hates us so deeply we can never come back from it?
“She’s not inside the compound anywhere.” Ven has his phone out, with the motion detectors pulled up.
“Goddammit.” Thorne is looking back at me, and his blue eyes are haunted.
