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Then Alaric.

Because there are things you don’t come back from knowing.

My ruined thumb ached.

I curled my hand into a fist.

I’d come back before.

I would again.

Ghost turned slightly. “Nyssa?”

I stepped off the terrace.

His head snapped toward me. “Where are you going?”

“For a walk.”

“No.”

I stopped.

There it was.

That fucking word.

Again.

His expression changed instantly. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”

And I did.

Ghost wasn’t the enemy. None of these men were. They were doing exactly what Alaric had ordered because they loved him enough to believe his fear.

“I need you to go inside.”

He stared at me as though I’d lost my mind. “Not happening.”

“Ghost.”

“No.” His voice softened. “Be angry with him tomorrow.”

My chest hurt.

Tomorrow.

Shit.

“Tonight, let me keep you alive.”

I looked at the house. At the light burning in the study window.

My eyes filled.

Then—a sharp crack split the darkness.