Malachi opens the door slowly, holding it just enough for us to slip through. The icy night air hits my face like a slap. Hepulls me with him into the snow, the door closing behind us with a muted click.
There’s only one thing left to do.
We run.
Chapter Nine
LOG NINE – VOCAL SHIFT RECORDED: SHE SPOKE TODAY, BUT NOT IN ANY LANGUAGE I KNOW. THE MACHINES TRANSLATED IT AS GRIEF.
We run in silence,our footsteps muffled by a fresh dusting of powder, breath clouding in the air as we cut through the darkness toward the far end of the property. Malachi’s cabin looms ahead, and we don’t slow until we’re inside.
He locks the door behind us, eyes scanning the space as he moves room to room. I stand in the center, heart hammering, ears straining for any sound behind us. The place looks untouched.
“No one’s been here.” His voice is hushed. “Don’t turn the lights on. Grab anything you need and wait for me here. If I’m not back in five minutes, get in the jeep and drive straight to Cade’s. Don’t stop for anyone. You understand?”
I blink at him, stunned. “You’re not leaving me. Wherever you go, I go. Try and stop me, Malachi.”
He lets out a sharp breath and crosses to me in three long strides. “Goddamn it, Kat.” Without warning, he lifts me off the ground and drops me gently onto the couch. “I didn’t realize you left your shoes.”
My feet are burning from the cold now that I’ve stopped moving. He crouches, pulls off my soaked socks, and starts rubbing warmth back into my feet. Then he lifts them to his mouth, blowing hot air across my numb toes over and over.
I want to tell him to stop treating me like something breakable because we don’t have time for this, but I can see it in his face that this is important to him.
He disappears into the bedroom and comes back with thick wool socks and a pair of my old loafers. “They’re not boots, but they’ll have to do.”
I shove them on as fast as I can. By the time I’m on my feet, he’s slinging a duffle bag over one shoulder, stuffed with clothes—his and mine.
“Follow me. Stay low. Stay quiet.”
I fall in step behind him.
A lone jeep waits behind the cabin, dusted in snow. Malachi drops the duffle and the backpack beside the back tire, his breath misting in the frigid air. Then he takes my hand again, fingers tight around mine, and leads us away from the cabin—not back toward the road but through a narrow path behind the barn.
The trees here are sparse, thin skeletons veiled in white. We keep low, weaving through shadows and using every bit of cover we can find until Irina’s house comes into view again from a new angle.
The front door is shut. It’s quiet.
Malachi halts behind an old feed trough, snow crunching softly beneath his boots. He pulls a small pair of binoculars from his coat pocket, one of the things he must’ve grabbed before we fled, and presses them to his eyes.
I stay close, the cold cutting through every layer I have on. A fresh flurry begins to fall, the flakes burn againstmy cheeks, collecting on my eyelashes, clinging to my hair and nose. I squint toward the house, trying to see what he sees.
Two men step out the front door, both dressed in dark clothes. I don’t recognize the first one. He’s lean with shoulder-length blond hair and a strange stillness in the way he walks, like he’s listening to something only he can hear. But the second man…
I freeze.
Tall. Slicked-back hair. That smug, polished arrogance in the way he holds himself.
Gary Volkov.
Malachi’s brother.
The one I used to think was the reasonable one between him and Orin. The quiet one. Now, watching him from the shadows, I realize I was wrong. He’s cold, empty, and right now he has a leash in one hand… and a fucking wolf on the other end of it.
It’s massive with mangy black fur that hangs off its thick frame in patches. Its eyes glow with an unnatural yellow light that seems to cut through the night and land directly on us.
Gary lifts his chin like he’s sniffing the wind, and the wolf mirrors the motion.
I swallow hard, trying to stay calm, but the sight of the creature makes my heart thud rapidly in my ears. Whatever part of me used to believe Gary would take me back to that pretty prison is long gone. I don’t think he’d hesitate to let that monster rip me apart.
