Killian nudges my arm until I look over at him. “Why?”
“A feeling in my gut.”
It’s the only explanation I have.
I’ve never felt so attuned to anyone the way I do to Raven now. Like over the last few weeks, I’ve become an expert not only in reading her body and what she needs but also in sensing when things are off in that beautiful, twisted mind of hers.
And that’s what I feel now.
Almost as if she’s crying out for me from behind those old wooden walls and begging for me to help her.
Killian doesn’t question my response or try to argue that I’m overreacting, though I know I’m going to have a million things to answer for once this is all over.
Inclining my head toward the cabin, I glance back at him. “I’m going to go see what I can find out. Watch my back.”
He nods, his gun already in his hand, and I know he won’t hesitate to use it. “Always, brother.”
Always.
Brother.
Those two words do more for me than anything else he possibly could have said right now.
There has been so much tension, so many unspoken, impossibly heavy things acting as roadblocks in our relationship over the past few months that I wasn’t sure we could ever get past.
Knowing he’s here, at my side, my brother in every way but blood, always watching my back and trusting my instincts even when he doesn’t understand them is more than I could have ever asked for from him.
Before my emotions cloud my focus, I move along the edge of the clearing, keeping close to the trees, staying in the shadows while watching the other ones the moonlight creates.
Flashbacks of that night assault my brain.
The fear that overwhelmed me.
The way I trembled.
Mom’s words I had to repeat in my head to keep myself level and calm when panic set in.
But tonight feels different.
That fear I had then has been replaced with something else—an anger, a fury, a rage over the fact that someone came up here and shattered my peace, destroyed my refuge, and might have touched my woman.
Mine.
The word fills my head so completely that it’s all I can hear.
It’s all I can feel.
And I can’t take any time to pause and consider why I think of her that way.
I reach the rear of the cabin and lean against the old wooden boards near the small storage shed attached to the back, waiting and listening.
Raven’s sharp cry of pain shatters the silent night air, slicing through me as swiftly and deeply as if whatever she is suffering were happening to me directly.
I grit my teeth to keep the growl that wants to slip out from alerting whoever is inside with her to my presence.
It doesn’t matter who it is.
He’s a fucking dead man.
