27. Selene
27
Selene
T he cold air feels sharper on the walk back like it’s cutting straight through my coat and into my skin. Or maybe it’s just me, raw and unsettled after running into Aubrey. Valkyrie trots beside me, tail wagging happily, blissfully unaware of the storm in my chest.
It’s strange—how someone can smile so sweetly, laugh so freely, and hide so much darkness underneath. I can still feel the warmth of her hand on mine, the weight of her words about Gabriel, about Theo. About love and loss and memories. She sounded so genuine, like a person who would give you the shirt off her back. A person who wanted to see everyone happy.
But she’s not.
I know the truth now. Gabriel. George. Theo’s parents. The same woman who tried to set me up with her nephew, who teased me about romance and gave me tips on how to win over the town, killed at least three people to protect her secrets.
Thinking back on it she probably even used the tips she gave me. She knows they work because she is the one who used them in the first place.
I clench Valkyrie’s leash tighter, my fingers stiff and cold. The streets blur around me, the charm of Shadow Grove’s picturesque houses and friendly shops dimmed by the shadow Aubrey cast over the morning. How did I not see it before? How did anyone not see it? She’s so good at pretending—at making everyone believe she’s someone she’s not.
By the time I reach my house, my head is pounding. The sight of my porch is a relief, and I fumble for my keys as Valkyrie bounces up the steps, her tail nub thumping against the railing.
The door swings open before I can unlock it. Orion stands there, his broad frame filling the doorway, his expression grim. He steps aside to let me in, and I immediately spot the others—Theo, Morgan, and The Great Wall of FBI , aka Special Agent Lucian Stirling, who is standing near my bookshelf, arms crossed like a human skyscraper with a badge. Celeste somehow found out the broody agent’s full name.
I unclip Valkyrie’s leash, and she bolts past Orion, making a beeline for her usual spot on the couch. I shrug off my coat and hang it by the door, exhaling sharply. “It wasn’t what I wanted to happen when I left the house, but I guess I knew there was a risk of running into her.” I rub my arms, still feeling the ghost of her touch. “She hugged me like we were best friends and invited me to some little anniversary gathering at Gabriel’s grave tomorrow.”
Theo, who’s leaning against the arm of the couch, stiffens at that. His hands curl into fists at his sides, jaw locking.
Orion’s jaw tightens. “She’s not wasting any time, is she?”
“She’s good,” I say, sinking into the chair nearest the door. “Too good. If I didn’t know what I know now, I’d believe her. She talked about Gabriel like he was the love of her life. Told me this sweet story about one of their anniversaries, how he rented out some rooftop for dinner under the stars.” I laugh bitterly. “I almost believed her for a second. Almost.”
“She’s a pro,” Orion says, crossing his arms. “She’s had years to perfect her act. That’s what makes her dangerous.”
At the dining table, Morgan is bent over a map of the cemetery, making adjustments to a few marked spots. Meanwhile, Agent Stirling—who has no need for furniture—remains standing, watching the discussion with his usual unreadable expression.
“She said she also wanted to celebrate with Teddy and Morgan,” I say, the name nearly catching in my throat. “Like this is some heartfelt anniversary.”
Theo exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. He’s quiet, but I know what’s running through his head—how she manipulated him, how she looked him in the eyes for years and pretended to care about him.
“She’s trying to isolate them,” Orion mutters. “Make them feel like this is some sentimental moment, not a setup.”
“She’s still playing the role of the grieving widow,” I say, looking at the map Morgan is marking up. “And she expects them to play along.”
“We’ve got teams covering every angle—entry points, exits, surveillance. We’ll let her get comfortable, and then we’ll move in.”
I nod, but the weight in my chest doesn’t ease. “What if she doesn’t slip up? What if she’s as careful tomorrow as she’s always been?”
“She won’t be,” Orion says firmly. “She thinks she’s untouchable. That’s when people like her make mistakes. And when she does, we’ll be there to catch her.”
I want to believe him. I want to trust that this will end the way it’s supposed to. But Aubrey’s been outsmarting people for years—decades, even. What if tomorrow isn’t the clean resolution we’re hoping for? What if we can’t get her to confess?
I look at the map on the table, at the way the cemetery is neatly marked with red and blue dots. Valkyrie’s soft snoring fills the room, and for a moment, I let myself focus on that sound instead of the buzzing tension around me.
“And you think it’s safe to go tomorrow?” I ask finally.
Orion’s gaze softens, and for a second, I see a flicker of concern in his eyes. “I don’t see why it wouldn’t be. Just don’t accept food or a drink from her, every person she’s killed so far has been killed by poison. The chance of her pulling a knife or a gun on you is slim to none.”
I glance at Valkyrie, at the peaceful rise and fall of her chest. “If you’re sure then I trust you,” I say quietly.
Because no matter how tangled this web gets, I can’t let Aubrey walk away from this. Not after everything she’s done.
The tension inside the house is suffocating, so I grab a mug from the kitchen—one of my favorites that says “not today, satan” on it—and fill it with water. I need air, and space to think. Without saying anything to the FBI agents or Orion, I slip out the back door onto the covered porch.
The cold air hits me immediately, a sharp contrast to the suffocating heat of too many bodies in a small space. I grip the mug in both hands, staring out into the dark. Somewhere in the distance, the town is quiet, oblivious to the fact that tomorrow, everything could change.
Away from the noise and planning, the suffocating heat of too many bodies in my space. Out here, it’s easier to breathe.
I settle into the double rocking chair, tucking my knees up, the mug of water in my hands as I let my gaze wander to the small, fenced yard. Valkyrie’s toys are scattered across it—chewed-up tennis balls, a tug rope, and, of course, the random shiny things she’s dragged home from who-knows-where. My little magpie in Doberman form.
I take a slow sip of water and let my mind drift. It’s been a whirlwind these past few months. Leaving my ex had felt like a leap off a cliff, but I’d needed to escape, to start over somewhere far away. I hope he’s having the time of his life ‘living the single life the navy provided’ him while we were still together. To think he wanted me to move out of the primary bedroom to the smaller room across the hall. All so he could have other women over, in the bed I bought, in the townhome under my name. After a parting shot of ‘I hope you get everything you wished for’ I broke the lease leaving him to find a new place of his own. After briefly staying with my brother at his tiny apartment in D.C., I got to move to this small town, one I’d never even heard of, and it was the perfect blank slate.
And then Valkyrie happened. A failed TSA dog with too much personality and an obsession with shiny objects. I’d adopted her from my brother’s insistence, thinking maybe having her around would help me feel less alone and protect me in a way that he couldn’t. She’s been my constant—my goofy, loyal shadow through everything.
Meeting Theo was…unexpected. I hadn’t planned on finding the type of friends I did here, hadn’t planned on finding people who felt like home. And uncovering that his sweet, doting aunt was actually a serial killer? Well, that was pulled straight out of a bad crime novel. If someone had told me six months ago that I’d end up here—sitting on this porch, sipping water from a mug, planning to help the FBI arrest a serial killer—I’d have laughed in their face.
I trace the rim of the mug with my finger, staring out at the yard. Where does it go from here? After tomorrow, after Aubrey? What happens then?
The creak of the back door interrupts my thoughts. I glance over my shoulder as Theo steps outside, a thick blanket draped over one arm. His dark hair is a mess like he’s been running his fingers through it, and there’s a quiet sort of tiredness in his eyes. But when he looks at me, his expression softens.
“Orion said you were back here,” he says, his voice warm and low.
I smile faintly. “Needed some air. There are too many people inside.”
“I get that,” He walks over, nodding toward the chair I’m curled up in. “Move over.”
I blink at him. “What?”
He lifts the blanket in his hands. “You’re hogging the best seat in the house. And you clearly don’t know how to stay warm out here.”
I roll my eyes but shift over anyway, making room for him. He sits beside me, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off him even before he drapes the blanket over both of us. I didn’t even realize how cold I had gotten. He lifts his arm, an unspoken invitation, and I hesitate for only a second before shifting to his side. His arm settles around my shoulders, and the weight of it is grounding, steady.
“Better?” he murmurs.
I nod, relaxing against him, letting the gentle rocking motion of the chair lull some of the tension from my muscles.
Theo exhales, shifting slightly. “This thing is comfortable. What are we even sitting in?”
“A double rocking chair,” I answer, a small smile tugging at my lips.
He makes a thoughtful noise. “I need one of these for my place.”
I laugh softly. “I got it for Valkyrie. She’s a velcro dog—always has to be touching me. I figured if I was going to sit outside with her, I might as well be comfortable.”
Theo glances at the screen door, where Valkyrie is still watching us, her top teeth peeking out as she presses her nose against it. “Guess you’re not the only one with a shadow.”
I hum in agreement, absently tracing the rim of my mug again. For a while, we just sit there, rocking gently, the quiet between us comfortable. But the weight of tomorrow still lingers.
Theo breaks the comfortable silence we rocked ourselves into. “What are you drinking?”
“Water,” I say simply.
Theo’s face twists into mock horror. “Water? In a mug ? What kind of heathen are you?” He puts a hand to his chest like I’ve personally offended him. “Selene, water doesn’t belong in mugs. Mugs are for coffee, tea, hot chocolate… warm things. You can’t just put water in there and pretend that’s normal.”
“I wasn’t pretending anything,” I say, grinning. “It’s convenient and it makes me feel cozy.”
He narrows his eyes at me, but there’s a teasing spark in them. “You’re telling me, out of all the options in your kitchen, you went for a mug. For water.”
“Yeah, Hot Shot. I am. Is there a problem?” I say firmly, trying not to laugh.
Theo shakes his head in mock disappointment. “I’m questioning your sanity now. What sane person drinks water out of a mug?”
“I think we’ve established I’m not exactly normal,” I shoot back, raising the mug in a mock toast. “To my insanity.”
He chuckles, the sound deep and genuine, and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m serious, though. Water in a mug? That’s serial killer behavior.”
“Maybe I’ve been spending too much time around Aubrey,” I joke, though the words come out softer than I intended.
For a moment, neither of us says anything. The porch is silent except for the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze and the distant sound of a car passing on the street.
Theo finally breaks the silence. “So, what happens after all this? After tomorrow?”
I don’t answer right away. Because the truth is, I don’t know. The idea of finally being free of Aubrey, of winning, should be reassuring. But it’s also terrifying.
“I guess I’ll figure it out one step at a time,” I say finally.
Theo is silent for a moment, then he nods. “Yeah. That makes sense.” He glances down at me, his voice quieter. “Just…you don’t have to figure it out alone.”
The words settle over me, warm and certain. I tilt my head up, meeting his gaze, and for a second, I forget how to breathe. There’s a look there—an undercurrent just beneath the surface. A feeling that makes my pulse quicken and my stomach flutter.
I swallow. “Thanks, Hot Shot.”
His lips twitch like he wants to say more, but instead, he just smiles, shifting slightly so he can press a kiss to my forehead. It’s soft, lingering—just long enough to make my heart stumble over itself.
The weight of tomorrow presses down on us, heavy and suffocating. But right now, at this moment, it’s just the two of us. The whisper of the wind, the distant murmur of voices inside the house, and the quiet, steady rhythm of our breathing.
Theo’s still watching me, eyes unreadable in the dim light. Then, without a word, he reaches for my hand, threading his fingers through mine as he tugs me forward.
I don’t ask where we’re going. I don’t need to.
We step into the shadows, moving just far enough from the house to be out of sight but not so far that we lose the hum of activity behind us. Theo takes the blanket we were cuddled under earlier and spreads it out over the ground, the moonlight casts silver streaks across the fabric.
Theo turns to me, his grip tightening around my wrist. His voice is low and rough. “Lie down.”
A shiver runs through me, heat curling in my stomach. I do as he says, my pulse hammering as I settle back onto the blanket. The grass beneath the fabric is cool against my overheated skin, but all I can focus on is him .
The world fades to nothing but him.
Theo’s hands skim my sides, slow and deliberate, as he settles his weight over me, his thighs bracketing mine. The heat of his body presses into every inch of me, grounding me, trapping me beneath him in the best way.
“You sure you can stay quiet for me, Sweetheart?” His voice is a whisper against my skin, but there’s nothing soft about the way he grips my jaw, tilting my face up so he can see every flicker of emotion in my eyes.
I nod, my breath catching.
His smirk is dark. “We’ll see about that.”
He pushes my shirt up, dragging my bra with it until my breasts are bared to the night air. A sharp gasp leaves me before I can stop it, and his eyes flick up, filled with challenge.
“Gotta be quieter than that.”
Before I can respond, his mouth is on me—hot, wet, his teeth dragging over my sensitive skin before he bites down, just enough to make my back arch.
A whimper catches in my throat. My hands fly to his hair, fingers twisting in the strands as he soothes the bite with his tongue before moving to the other side and doing it all over again.
“Fucking perfect.” His voice is reverent, but his hands are sinful, gliding lower, undoing the button of my jeans. “I want you just like this—half-dressed, desperate, and completely at my mercy.”
A shiver runs through me.
He doesn’t undress me completely—no, that would be too easy. Instead, he drags my jeans and panties down just past my knees before folding my legs up, pressing them toward my chest.
I barely have time to process it before his voice dips lower, rougher. “You’re gonna stay just like this for me, yeah? All folded up so I can take what’s mine?”
My pulse pounds. My breath hitches.
I nod, but it’s not enough for him.
Theo grips my jaw again, thumb brushing my lower lip. “Use your words, Sweetheart.”
“Yes.” The word is barely a whisper.
“Good girl,” His groan is guttural, almost like the admission undoes him as much as it does me.
He shifts back just enough to shove his own jeans down, his cock springing free. My eyes go wide, breath catching. Even in the dim light, I can see the sheer size of him, thick and heavy, the tip already glistening.
Theo catches my expression and smirks. “You’ve seen it before, Sweetheart.” He strokes himself, slow and lazy. “You can handle it, yeah?”
I nod quickly, heart hammering.
His chuckle is dark, filled with promise.
Then, still watching me, he tugs his shirt up and clenches it between his teeth, baring his stomach, his abs taut with tension as he leans over me again.
I swear, I almost come undone just from the sight of him.
“Eyes on me,” he orders. “I want to see every second of you falling apart for me.”
And then—he thrusts inside, stretching me open, filling me completely, and I realize I have no hope of staying quiet at all.
The world around us disappears.
It’s just Theo—his weight pressing me into the blanket, his hands gripping my thighs, his cock stretching me open with a slow, unrelenting thrust.
I gasp, my head falling back, but he doesn’t let me escape. One strong hand grips my jaw, forcing my eyes back to his. “Keep looking at me, Sweetheart.”
I do. I can’t look anywhere else.
Theo clenches his jaw, his muscles taut as he buries himself to the hilt, filling me so completely I swear I feel him everywhere. His shirt is still clenched between his teeth, his bare stomach flexing as he stills inside me, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts.
“So. Fucking. Tight.” His voice is strained, reverent. “You always take me so goddamn well, baby. Like you were made just for me.”
Heat crashes through me at his words. My fingers claw at his back, desperate for anything that can ground me. “Theo—”
“Shh.” He smirks, voice rough as he pulls back, the drag of him making my toes curl. “I told you I was gonna do better, didn’t I?”
I nod frantically.
He groans, watching me like I’m to be worshiped. “Then let me take care of you.”
And he does.
His pace is slow at first—each thrust deliberate, measured, designed to build me up so torturously that I can’t do anything but whimper his name. But when I try to rock my hips up to meet him, desperate for more, he pins me down, making a tsking sound.
“Not yet, Sweetheart. I’m in charge, remember?”
I nod, already wrecked. “Please—”
He groans like my begging is the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. “God, I fucking love when you beg.”
Then his hand slips between us, his fingers finding my clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles in time with his thrusts.
It’s too much. It’s perfect.
“That’s it, baby.” His voice is nothing but gravel and sin. “I want to feel you come around me. I want to hear those sweet little sounds you make when I ruin you.”
The orgasm hits me hard, knocking the air from my lungs. My back arches, a strangled moan slipping past my lips as I clench around him, pleasure rocketing through me.
Theo groans, his grip tightening. “Fuck, that’s it. That’s my good girl .”
I shudder at the praise, still trembling as he barely gives me a moment to breathe before rolling his hips again, never once letting me come down from my high.
“Think you can give me another?” His thumb teases my clit again, dragging slow, lazy circles. “I think you can. I think you’ll give me as many as I want.”
I gasp, already teetering on the edge again.
Theo watches me fall apart, his expression full of dark satisfaction, of hunger, of a deeper emotion. “That’s it, baby. So fucking beautiful like this—wrecked, desperate, falling apart just for me.”
Another orgasm rips through me, and Theo eats up every second of it, groaning as I clench around him again. “Christ, I could stay buried inside you all fucking night.”
“Theo—” My voice is barely a whisper, my body trembling.
He leans down, pressing his forehead to mine, his words soft but filthy as he slows his thrusts.
“One more, Sweetheart. Just one more, and then I’ll give you exactly what you want.”
I whimper, already so close I can’t think.
“You can do it for me, can’t you?” His hand moves between us again, his thumb pressing just right. “Be my good girl and give me one more.”
That’s all it takes.
Pleasure crashes over me again, my vision blurring as my body clenches around him, my cries muffled against his shoulder.
Theo groans, gripping my hips as his movements turn rough and desperate. “Fucking perfect .”
And then, finally, he lets himself go.
His breath stutters as he thrusts deep, his entire body tensing before shuddering against mine. A low, guttural groan slips past his lips, and I swear I could come again just from the way he sounds.
For a long moment, neither of us move.
Then, Theo presses a slow, lingering kiss to my shoulder, murmuring against my skin. “Goddamn, Sweetheart. You were made for me.”