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“No, Lucas, I think you should stay with me,” William said coldly, and my stomach sank when he waved off his women.
After a few confused glances at each other, they turned and walked away as a group.
“There are some people I need to introduce you to,” William continued.
“I’ve done fine without you so far, and I’ll continue to. Briar, let’s go.”
I stood and tore my hand from William’s grasp and tried to force the chill from my body when he said, “I told you to stay.”
I turned toward Lucas, taking a step in his direction, but froze when I took in what was happening. “Lucas . . .” I breathed, horrified.
The calm and panic were both gone, but had been replaced by a silent rage that was terrifying to be in the presence of. But those eyes—those dark eyes I loved so much—were saying so many things he couldn’t in that moment.
He loved me.
He was going to protect me.
He was sorry.
I dropped my gaze to where the gun was aimed at Lucas, then followed it up to the man holding it. The same man who had just greeted William and Lucas like long-lost friends.
“As I said . . . stay.” William laughed softly then clapped his hands twice.
I didn’t understand why people weren’t reacting. I didn’t understand why people weren’t trying to figure out why this man had a gun aimed at my devil. But then I realized that what seemed so big to me was nothing more than a tight circle of people talking to everyone else at this crowded, crowded celebration.
I felt the presence behind me before I felt the actual man. He had to have been as tall as Lucas and just as wide.
“Briar,” Lucas began softly, but whatever else he’d been about to say died in his throat.
I stiffened when something sharp pressed against my inner arm, and Lucas started, like he was about to lunge across the small space toward me.
“William,” he snarled, but William only laughed.
“I suggest you both stay quite still.”
Without moving my head, I looked down at the needle pressed to the crook of my elbow, and the clear liquid that filled it. I had a feeling it wouldn’t just knock me out for a few hours. When I looked back up at Lucas and saw the soul-deep pain in his eyes, I knew I was right.
“I had planned to do this differently,” William said cheerfully. “Poetically even. Something that people spoke of for years to come. That way you would never forget her, and this celebration would haunt you every year, Lucas. But then I received disturbing news a few days ago, and well, those plans no longer mattered to me.” William’s head tilted to the side as he studied Lucas. “Tell me, Lucas, what
is your name?”
Fear gripped me, squeezing me tighter and tighter until it felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore.
David had said they would find out the truth about my devil, and we’d been naïve to think they couldn’t in the time we had left.
Lucas’s chest was rising and falling roughly, unevenly, and his hands were clenching into fists. But he didn’t move, and his eyes didn’t leave me even as he spoke to William. “Don’t ask questions you already know the answers to.”
“But it’s so fun,” William said with another clap. “Really, boy, tell us. Humor me. You owe me that, at least. I just want to hear it come from you before I force you to watch as I tear your heart from your chest.” His words were even more sinister in that lighthearted tone.
“Briar . . .” Lucas whispered, and William sighed heavily.
“Sometime tonight.”
Lucas swallowed roughly, his head shaking slowly as he searched my face—like he was trying to memorize it. His gaze dropped to my stomach for a few seconds, longing and anguish flashing through his eyes before they met mine again. “Forever,” he breathed, and I nodded, because I couldn’t make my voice work.
My throat was tightening and tears were blurring my vision.
With one last ragged breath in, he held it for a moment, and then released it with a name. “Trent Cruz.”
