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“What did he do?”
“He’s a moron and doesn’t learn from his mistakes. Just like with Jasmine, he told Alyssa everything. The next day, Kody found her dead in the bathroom with a wire coat hanger. Her attempt was successful, depending on how you look at it. She bled out.”
Coat hanger.
Abortion.
That’s why they refused to tell me anything. They didn’t want me to lose my shit and repeat history.
Five women. Two were murdered. One suicide. One wolf attack. One death by self-administered abortion.
“The bones I found in the fire pit…” Ash fills my mouth. “Who was it?”
“All of them. Or whatever was left of them.”
As that sinks in, the tempo of my heartbeat builds, builds, builds into a crescendo of fury and resolve.
I. Will. Not. Die. Here.
“I’m not going to react the way they did,” I growl. “Do you hear me?”
“How do you know?”
“Did the women know about the prior captives?”
“No. Some of them asked, but we didn’t give them details. None of them knew names, how many came before, or how they died. None of them were as persistent as you.”
They think I’m different. I don’t know if that’s true. But I have weapons. Weapons that the women before me didn’t have.
I have two years’ worth of birth control.
I’m armed with information to make better decisions.
And I have an alliance. Leo and Kody may not love me the way Wolf does, but I believe, down to my marrow, they care enough to protect me. They won’t leave me to the same fate as the others.
In turn, I won’t let them make another fucking deal with the devil.
“We’re in this together, Wolf.”
“I know, Little Red Riding Hood.”
The nicknames are back. I breathe a sigh of relief and lace our hands between us. “You should sleep.”
“Will you stay? For a while?”
“Yeah. I’m here. He won’t hurt you.”
Not tonight. Not ever again.
I twist to click off the light, and when I turn back, his mouth is right there, a breath away from mine. Shadows conceal his features, but I see him with my mind. I feel him with my entire soul.
Without thinking, I let instinct take over and delete the space between our lips. The kiss guides us through the darkness, and we follow, mouths fused and tongues tangled. Deep and languid, open and honest, our lips communicate love and hope and togetherness.
Our hands remain clasped between us. No wandering. No expectations for more. It’s just us, rising from the ashes in silent agreement.
No matter what happens, we will fight for each other.
Eventually, our mouths fall slack with exhaustion. But we stay close, noses touching, and after a quiet moment, I watch him drift off to sleep.
He’s so warm and strong and relaxed I want to curl up against his chest and join him. But there are plans to make. Promises to keep.
The devil waits for no one.
Slowly, I slip out of bed and enter the hall. With each step toward the stairs, my backbone strengthens, my muscles hardening, growing hotter.
The rhythm of my heart quickens, each beat a battle drum urging me forward.
Until I visualize what I must do, and dread buckles my knees.
Helena tied him up. Starved him. Held a gun to his head.
And he buried her alive.
God have mercy, I don’t want to die. Especially not like that.
But if I don’t do something, evil will rule unchecked in this cabin. Denver will come for me again, and Wolf will give him what he wants.
No. I won’t allow it. He’s suffered enough.
I stand at the top of the stairs on the precipice of an insurmountable task, my heart pounding not just with determination, but with a seething anger that burns within me.
Anger becomes my ally, spurring me down the stairs and into the armory.
I stride to the wall of weapons, and my fingers grip the cold steel of my plan, my knuckles turning white around the revolver Leo gave me.
Doubts whisper in my ear, but my roaring fury drowns them out.
This is a battle, and I am a warrior. I won’t falter. I can’t afford to fail.
I check the gun for bullets. Then I head for Denver’s room.
The world moves in slow motion. The thought of facing him nearly makes me turn back. So I don’t think about it. I focus on my goal.
My senses sharpen. The fire within me burns brighter, its intensity unmatched by my knocking fear. It transforms into an unrelenting force that propels me beyond my limitations. With every step, I strike a blow against the notion that I’m bound by constraints. I can do this.
I am a storm, and my need for survival is an inferno that lights my path.
The pep talk pushes me down the hall, the gun raised and steady in my hands. At the door to Denver’s bedroom, I don’t hesitate. I’m committed.
I step inside and swing toward the fireplace, the dim orange glow of the flames the only light in the otherwise dark room.
