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Something withered in her chest. For the damaged man in her arms.

“Stay with me tonight.”

I’ll keep you safe.

He nodded, the movement sluggish, almost drunk. He was fading, and fast.

She slid off his lap and linked their fingers. “Come,” she encouraged softly.

And as she helped him get ready for bed, as she helped him bind their wrists together, she made a promise to herself—to him—there and now.

Just like she was going to help him rebuild his burned-down estate.

She’d help rebuild the man as well.

22

Rafe

Rafe snuck out before she woke up again. Everything was unsettled, unsteady. After last night, he somehow felt lighter yet more weighed down than ever. When he’d blinked awake to her sleeping visage, the soft light of dawn filtering over her features, his chest had seized. So beautiful. So unguarded.

And his father had almost destroyed that.

Would have crushed her spitfire spirit before it’d even had a chance to spark to life.

His gloves squeaked as his fingers tightened on Storm’s reins.

Miss Dawson was all fire; she was meant to burn bright. The thought of her broken, of those luminous brown eyes flat and haunted—a strangled howl burst from him, and he shoved a fist to his mouth to stifle it. Storm sidestepped, his ears flicking nervously. The poor beast probably thought his rider was a madman. Which wasn’t far from the truth.

Rafe drew in a steadying breath and leaned over, patting Storm’s neck. “Sorry, mate. It’s not you.” His attention lifted to the castle looming larger as they plodded toward it. “Just the monsters and their ghosts that never seem to leave.”

No amount of bracing for this visit could have prepared him for reliving his past. Being back here…the memories consumed him, took hold of him, and trapped him inside his mind, to the point he feared he was going mad.

But she brought him back, his tether to sanity. He didn’t understand why.

Rafe had wanted to explain to her why he had his one rule, why she always had to be bound. She deserved to know after everything she’d done for him—both since he’d arrived and the years she’d taken care of his estate while he’d all but neglected it. But after purging some of the horrors of his past, he’d been so drained he’d barely been able to keep his eyes open.

Let’s slay them one at a time.

It appeared there was no other choice. He hadn’t the strength to fight more than one at a time.

A movement in the distance caught his attention. He narrowed his gaze on the tree line of the dense wood that bordered the castle but didn’t see anything more. The back of his nape prickled, and he found himself turning Storm in that direction. It was early. He’d left Miss Dawson’s just past six. It’d be odd for someone to be wandering the grounds at such an hour.

He nudged Storm into a canter, scanning the area. As he reached the wood, he slowed them to a walk, ears peeled. Faint voices drifted from within, and he pointed Storm in their direction. Deep laughter filtered through the trees, growing louder. And then Rafe spotted them. Lord Sebastian and another man. Rafe’s mouth dropped. Because that was his half-brother locked in an intimate embrace with another man.

The two disappeared deeper into the wood, and Rafe stared dumbly at the tree they’d just been pressed against. Last night’s dinner all of a sudden held an entirely new meaning. Lord Sebastian’s discomfort with the discussion of marriage; Abigail's deft deflection. She must know. He steered Storm back toward the castle. He’d need to meet with Abigail. He wanted to ensure she knew if anything ever happened, if Sebastian ever got himself into any sort of trouble, she could turn to Rafe for help.

Bloody fucking hell. Thank all that was holy that their father had never found out that fact about his second son. Rafe shuddered. He couldn’t bear the thought.

He reached the edge of the wood just as a shout rang out behind him. Rafe turned Storm sharply but was met with silence. He frowned and shook his head. Considering what his brother obviously met up with that man to do, it wasn’t all that surprising noises were coming from where they were hidden.

“I said no!”

Rafe reacted before his brain even registered the words. The alarm underscoring the shout was piercing. He dug his heels into his mount, and Storm launched into the wood. Blood thundered in Rafe’s ears in the same rhythm as Storm’s hooves in the underbrush. He thought he might hear more signs of a struggle, but he wasn’t certain if it was that or the panic infiltrating his mind.

“Get the bloody fuck off me!” His brother’s shout broke through the drumming in his ears.

“Come on,” a voice grunted. “It’s not like we haven’t done this before.”