“It means there’s a cease fire for the time being.”
Because I don’t know what’s going to happen when all of this is over.
And I’m done discussing this with Killian.
I scan the trees and the darkening sky. “We’re only a few miles from the cabin now.”
Killian nods. “I figured. I knew the general vicinity of where Dad used to come hunt, but I never thought you even knew about it since no one has used the cabin since he died, long before you were born.”
I give him a sad smile. “Mom said your father used to come up here a lot when he needed to be alone. Maybe cosmically, she knew I would need it some day. And I did. It seemed like a good place when I needed to be.”
“Do you still need to be?”
Shit.
It’s a loaded question.
When I think of the foundation, of all the logs I’ve prepared, of my cabin ready to go up and what Killian is going to see when we set foot on that property, I know more questions are coming that I’m not going to want to face or know how to answer.
“Right now, all I know is we need to make sure Raven’s okay.”
“And if she is?”
“We’ll figure it out once we see what’s happening.” The pain in my chest only gets worse as we resume our hike, getting closer and closer to what could be another nightmare. “You really think someone could’ve gotten up here? Could’ve gotten to her?”
Killian presses his lips together. “I don’t know, but considering how hard of a hike this is, it would have to be someone very determined, very fit, and very hellbent on her destruction to go through all this trouble.”
“That’s what terrifies me.”
If anyone did find her, it wouldn’t be for a friendly chat. It would be for the kind of things she wrote about in that story.
20
CONNOR
By the time we reach the small clearing high on the mountain where the hunting cabin stands, it’s nearly pitch-black outside, so there isn’t any way to visually confirm if anything is wrong, but I still know within ten seconds of reaching the treeline that I was right to be concerned.
That knot of dread that has sat squarely in my gut was warranted.
Something’s wrong.
There’s a familiar quiet stillness, a kind of eerie, almost death-like feeling that makes my skin crawl because it’s exactly what I felt the night the Lorells attacked the homestead.
I know this place.
I’ve spent countless hours here over the last several months, enough to know that the sanctity of it has been shattered by something—or someone.
I creep along the edge of the forest with my axe in hand, keeping myself concealed behind tree trunks and fallen logs until I can get a better view of the small open space that houses the old cabin and the beginnings of the new one.
Killian squats beside me, scanning everything visible in the little light provided by the partially-clouded moon overhead. But he doesn’t know this land. He hasn’t sweat and bled here trying to create a sanctuary from the world. He can’t feel that change in the energy permeating the mountain air.
The cabin sits about a hundred yards away, tucked into the corner of the small dell, a pale light flickering in the window.
It’s the only sign of life, and while I wouldn’t expect Raven to be outside this time of night anyway, something about that light being on so late makes my hand tighten on the axe.
He tilts his head toward it. “It looks like she’s in there.”
I nod, never tearing my eyes away from the small building where so much happened between Raven and me—where everything changed. “I don’t think she’s alone.”
