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It seriously limits our options.
"You need to talk to Snow, Dimitri," Dante says, holding my feet to the fire. "She needs to know what she's facing here."
I scowl at him.
"You know I'm right. If it were you, you'd want a voice."
"She isn't me," I snap, rising from my seat to pace across the library. "She isn't any of us. She shouldn't have to make a choice between her future or the woman who tried to kill her." I know Snow. I've spent every waking moment obsessing over her since I met her. She'll choose to save Delilah's miserable life. Not because Delilah deserves it, but because that's who Snow is. Her heart is pure. If the choice is between killing Delilah or sending her to prison to rot, she'll choose prison, even if it costs her everything.
Dante keeps pressing me to let her make the choice, but everything inside demands I make it for her. That I handle the issue the way it needs to be handled, regardless of how anyone else feels about it. She's lost enough already.
I never thought I'd wish for the day I could take out a woman and not lose sleep over it. How fucked up is it that I wish I could be that man right now? I find an angel…and I need to be the devil to protect her. To keep her soul pure, I need to blacken mine beyond saving.
"You aren't that man, nephew," Dante says as if reading my mind.
I expel a curse, hanging my head. He's right. I'm not that man. My soul may be tainted, but it's not black. Not yet. Isn't that the problem? To protect Snow, I need it to be. We need to take our Delilah Buchanan…and I can't give that order.
I'm failing her, just like I failed Devin.
A sharp knock on the library door echoes through the room.
"Come in!" Dante shouts.
Carlton pokes his head into the room, his expression grim as his gaze lands on me. "Sheriff Armstrong is at the front gate with your brother-in-law."
"Fuck," I growl. Of course he shows up right now. Of course he does. "Where's Snow? We need to make sure she and the dogs are in the safe room."
"I've got them," Dante says, pushing himself up from his desk. "You go down and meet Dillon and Jude. I'll get Snow and the dogs."
I hesitate, reluctant to let anyone but me get her to safety. She's mine to protect, mine to care for. I should be the one whisking her to her bower until Dillon is off the fucking property.
Why is Jude with him?
Jesus Christ. If he's here with a search warrant and Jude didn't call to give me a heads up, Devin is going to be devastated when I strangle her husband.
"Dimitri." Dante circles the desk, clamping his hand down on my shoulder. His dark, sympathetic eyes meet mine. "You go do your part to protect her and let me handle this part. I'll make sure she and the dogs stay out of sight."
I jerk my head in a quick nod and follow him from the office, heading toward the stairs. We jog down together. At the bottom, he goes left, heading for the guest suite where we put Snow and the dogs. It's the only room on the ground floor with access to the yard. There's a safe room hidden in the closet.
Dante has them in every bedroom in the house. Shit. I've got a few in my place on the other side of the compound. But that's about all that's in it right now. I haven't had time to do anything with it since we finished construction. My shit is still in boxes, which is why I brought Snow here. I thought she'd be more comfortable in an actual home with another woman than in an empty house filled with boxes.
I just didn't anticipate how impossible it'd be for me to take my ass home to my empty house knowing that she's here. She asked me not to leave her alone that first night, and I've kept my promise every night since. I watch over her while she sleeps, drawn to her like a moth to her flame. She'd probably be pissed if she knew, but I doubt it'd stop me.
I thought the magic in my world died a long fucking time ago, snuffed out by the mantle of responsibility that fell on my shoulders when my parents died, leaving me in charge of Devin. This world hardens you. It demands sacrifices. And you make them because you have no choice. Because it's not just your survival that depends on it, but theirs. Dante's. Bruno's. Constantine's. Devin's.
And every sacrifice you make changes you. It kills a little bit more of the magic in the world. Until eventually, all that's left is sacrifice. All that's left is death and destruction and the deeds you do in the dark. How could magic continue to exist for a man with this much blood on his hands?
