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The only option left was to fight like hell—

And hope we both survived the destruction our secrets would bring to light.

Chapter 27 – Isabella

A velvet whisper tore me from sleep. I gasped, tugging the comforter to my chest. There was only my heartbeat ringing in my ears. I strained to catch the sound of another breath, to hear the soft tread of feet.

It was only a dream.

I lay for a moment longer. In the stillness of the room, my senses searched for the other presence. It lingered in the air, making it feel as though it really had been there. But there was nothing. No scent, no sound. I scrubbed a hand over my scalp, pushing hair out of my face.

Jaxon wasn’t here—again. No matter how hard I wished, no matter what I dreamt of, he hadn’t come back.

Something called him away, and there he stayed.

A small rush of sadness pulsed through me. It was stupid to hope.Iwas stupid. Selfish. I wanted a fairytale, no matter how dark and twisted. At least it would be mine.

I sat up and reached for my phone. It was three in the freaking morning.

Groaning, I padded to the bathroom. The water on my hands was cold. I shivered against its icy bite.

Pausing at the threshold, I scanned the dark room.

Empty.

Lonely.

What would it take to bring him back? I let out a harsh laugh. First, I would have to find a way to contact him.

I stopped at the window and looked over the lawn. There was no happily-ever-after in my world. Maybe someday I could remarry and finally have a family of my own. But the war would have to be a distant memory, and my reign firmly established. Kids, even a husband, could be used against me.

“This is better,” I lied to myself. It was only me who would be hurt in the end if anything happened.

The trees blew softly in the midnight breeze. Their branches stretched and strained, casting long, skeletal shadows over the ground. I peered between them, hoping to catch one move at an odd angle. Just a flicker to tell me I wasn’t alone.

Hope mocked me as I returned to bed.

I sat on the mattress and knew sleep wasn’t likely to return. I reached for my wine glass, hoping a drop or two remained, already knowing it was bone dry.

It wasn’t there.

My heartbeat doubled.

No dishes.

I flicked the light on my phone. The piercing glare confirmed what I suspected. The torn piece of paper where the dishes had been was a pleasant surprise. I dove for it.

Scrawled in a tight, rigid hand were ten numbers.

“He’s back!” I sang out softly.

It wasn’t a dream. That feeling, knowing my midnight stray had been here, was real.

I was about to dial, just to hear his voice, when my phone blared at me.

I scowled at the bleating device.

“Hello?” I answered.