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"Think!" His hand slams down on the table, making me flinch. "You rush in there, you might as well sign their death warrants—and yours."
I swallow hard, fighting the urge to argue, to scream against the helplessness that claws at my throat. I glance at Gunnar, and he takes my hand. "This is just the beginning," he says. "We'll get them out one day, I promise."
"Rook, call Mr. Solace's people and tell him," Luka says, voice like gravel. "Every detail. They need to know what's brewing."
Rook gets up and leaves the room, taking his phone with him, and Gunnar runs his thumb over my knuckles.
"Safe," Gunnar murmurs, just for me. "You'll be safe. I swear."
"Safe," I echo, not quite believing.
"Let's hunker down," Luka says. "Mr. Solace will want to meet. But for now, survival is the game."
"Survival," I repeat. "Right...I can focus on that for now."
I just wanted to escape. I didn't plan on doing any of this. I just wanted to get out, to seek shelter with Gunnar, for all of us to get away...
...and now I'm wrapped up in a conspiracy.
Fuck me.
Rook steps back through the door, heaving a sigh as he looks at the rest of us. "Mr. Solace wants us to stay put," he says. "He's sending some folks over to talk to you in the morning."
I want to argue, to scream that we can't just sit here while Oberon and my friends are out there, possibly in danger. Oberon is probably already dead--everyone else is in danger, since they helped me.
But there's not a damn thing I can do.
Luka is right.
I sink back into the cushions, the worn fabric of the sofa barely registering against my skin. My heart thuds loud in my chest, a drumbeat of fear and frustration. Gunnar shifts beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
"Hey," he murmurs, low enough that Luka and Rook don't turn their heads.
His hand finds mine again, fingers lacing with mine in a silent promise. I glance up, meeting those blue eyes that never failto anchor me. There's a storm in them too, but it's controlled, harnessed.
For now.
"I'm going to keep you safe," he whispers, and the word doesn't sound as foreign now. It sounds like a vow.
I let myself lean into him, my head resting against his broad shoulder. His arm wraps around me, pulling me close, and for a moment, the world outside this room, with its dangers and uncertainties, fades away.
Gunnar's scent envelops me, that unmistakable alpha musk that tells me he would kill for me. Even though my mind whirls with thoughts of what's to come, his touch is steady and sure. For a brief second, I allow myself the fantasy that we're just two people on a sofa, not pawns in a game of power and survival.
"Whatever happens," Gunnar's voice rumbles against me, "I'm with you."
"Thank you," I whisper.
And for now, it's enough. It has to be.
Chapter thirteen
Gunnar
Ijolt awake, myheart pounding in my chest...and I know in a split second that Aisling is gone.
The room is dark, the moonlight casting eerie shadows on the walls of Luka's attic apartment. Star's side of the couch is empty, the blankets crumpled and cool. Her scent still lingers though, meandering through the door and out toward the stairs to the church.
Wherever she is, I need to follow.
