3. Lakynn
LAKYNN
I sit like a statue at the far end of a long white table, my spine straight, shoulders locked, jaw clenched so tight I feel my teeth grinding into dust. This whole thing is like a dream I’m desperate to wake up from, but can’t. Not with all eyes on me. Not with what happened last time.
I ran away, and it took my father’s henchmen less than twenty minutes to capture me. He sees everything and without Riven as a buffer, it’s proving difficult to escape him.
Everyone in this restaurant thinks this is a celebration. My mother smiles so tightly that I think her face might crack and crumble all over the fine linen tablecloth. She thinks they’ve secured something important tonight. An alliance with the St. Clair family that also gets me out of her house. She doesn’t like me, especially now that I’m not a gangly fourteen-year-old. I know that when she looks at me she sees everything she could have been, everything I could still be. I know she’s taking pleasure in my fate. A price paid in blood and pearls and ugly white satin.
No one here sees the coffin they’re building around me, but that’s exactly what this is. I won’t survive if I have to go through with this.
It won’t be as easy as they think.
Matthew, my fiancé …Ugh, God, I want to claw that word out of my mouth. He uses the word, but we both know that he’s buying me. He’s buying my virginity because that’s the only way he can get the kind of girl he wants. I refuse to look at him or any of his family members in an act of defiance. I want to break down in tears, but there isn’t time for that. It’s clear to me that Riven isn’t going to come back for me, and that was a silly little fairytale dream that has long since sailed away. I’m going to have to save myself, even if that means I don’t make it out of this alive. Because that’s what it comes down to. The man who adopted me made that clear. I either comply this time or he’s going to snap my neck. I feel his hand around my neck, around my wrists, gripping my jaw painfully. My ‘mother’...that word feels absolutely bitter on my tongue, isn’t any better. I sigh when I think about how she covered up the marks her husband left on my skin with makeup.
The asshole who is buying me is sitting too close to me, and he’s enjoying that I hate this. That I hate him . His thigh brushes mine every time he shifts, and I want to carve that smirk off of his stupid face right here in front of everyone. His hand rests on the table, waiting for mine. Expectant. Disgusting. Every breath he takes feels like an invasion of my literal will to live. Every second he sits beside me feels like a countdown to my burial. I was told that Riven was offered a coveted spot on the Castlebrook University hockey team and he couldn’t turn it down. I don’t believe them. Riven wouldn’t leave me for hockey, and they wouldn’t have sent him away so he could go off and have fun at some fancy school. He’s too valuable here, so wherever he went off to is benefiting our parents I’m sure. That doesn’t mean I’m not pissed at him for not saying goodbye, for not telling me anything. I feel hollow, beaten down. I feel like I’ve got nothing left to look forward to.
Across from me, Lucas swirls his wine like he thinks he looks posh, but he just looks like the pretentious dickwad Riven always said he was. He’s loving every second of this. Lucas is Dimitri and Karina’s biological son. Their golden boy. The son who wore the right mask, but didn’t have the natural ability to be a leader the way Riven did. He keeps catching my eye like this is some kind of inside joke, like we’re both in on the farce of my engagement.
I used to think being adopted meant I was chosen. Wanted.
Now I know better.
It means I was owned.
It means I was always going to be used for something that would benefit these monsters.
I remember my first night at the Kozlov household. Lucas smiled like he already knew how this would end, but I couldn’t even fathom any of it. I remember the look Riven gave me the first time we sat alone on the porch swing that night. The pinky promise he made. The way he whispered, "I won't let anything bad happen to you. Not ever."
And now he’s gone.
A toast rings out. My father lifts his glass, eyes glittering with straight up arrogance and pride. "To the future of the Kozlov legacy," he declares, his voice deep and rehearsed, like he’s practiced it in the mirror. "To new beginnings and strong alliances." I want to vomit on the table and show him how the sound of his voice makes me feel. I decide against it because I need to stop acting out and figure out how I’m actually going to get out of this mess.
"And to my daughter," my mother cuts in, her smile looks sugary and thin almost as if she wants to be here less than I do. That’s not possible. But almost. "We couldn’t be more thrilled, darling. You look radiant tonight. To the happy couple."
I blink at her, wondering if she actually sees me as a human being.
Lucas leans forward, grinning. "You clean up well, little sister."
"Don’t call me that," I say under my breath.
He chuckles and takes a sip of wine. "What? Not feeling sentimental on your big night? Come on, this is what every girl dreams of. A rich husband. A glass of overpriced champagne. All eyes on you."
"You don’t know what I dream of," I say flatly.
Matthew laughs like he has any clue what’s even going on. He knows nothing about me and never will. None of these people will. "I know what you dream about, baby. You like it rough. I can tell. You’re feisty."
"I’ll cut you if you touch me," I mutter, but he chuckles. I’m serious, but he won’t know that until the time comes.
"You should be smiling," Lucas says, swirling his wine again. I’m starting to think he doesn’t like the taste of it. I hope he chokes on the next sip. "Or are you just sad Riven isn’t here to give you away?"
His name cuts through my chest, and I feel physical pain. I’m not the only one, though, because Matthew stops laughing at the mention of Riven’s name. He looks on edge and I see the way he glances around the room, almost like he’s afraid that saying his name out loud will summon him to appear. Even though I know he’s not coming for me, it’s nice to know that the spoiled prick next to me is afraid of him.
"Don’t mention him," my father says sharply, reprimanding Lucas for once in his privileged life.
I want to scream that none of them should be mentioning Riven, but I stay quiet. Because if I open my mouth, I won’t be able to stop. I stop listening to everyone. I’m too focused on keeping my hands still in my lap. Too focused on not drawing attention to the storm clawing through my ribs. I feel like I’m going to combust into a million pieces.
Matthew leans in close, warm breath hitting my cheek. “I was right, wasn’t I? You’re going to fight me,” he murmurs.
My stomach rolls and I taste bile rising up. I force a smile and take a sip of champagne so cold it burns all the way down because he’s enjoying how uncomfortable I am. I grip the stem of my glass so tight it nearly snaps, and I kind of wish it would. Anything to get him to stop hovering so close.
In my mind, all I can see is the way Riven used to hold my hand secretly. It was like it was something special, not to be flashed around for everyone to gawk at. Like I was something sacred to him that he didn’t want to share with anyone else. With Riven, I felt cherished. Like I belonged to no one, but still somehow belonged to him.
With Matthew, I feel like property that he wants to destroy. A deal sealed with a handshake and a signature.
He touches me. Just my bare arm with his fingers at first. His palm settles there and I want to cut my own skin off.
I’m not going to make it through this dinner. They’re going to have to kill me. I’m not going anywhere with him. Not today, not on the wedding day, not ever.
Across the table, my mother raises her eyebrow and gives me the kind of look that says behave.
I breathe through my nose and keep my voice trapped behind my teeth.
This isn’t real. It can’t be real. This isn’t how things were supposed to end.
The dinner is being held at The Mill, Castlebrook Falls’s only upscale restaurant. The kind of place where white linen hides blood money and the waitstaff knows better than to ask questions.
Riven could’ve asked me to marry him in a parking lot with a twist tie and a scraped knuckle, and I would’ve said yes. His knuckles were always bloodstained for one reason or another, and I loved that about him.
I would’ve said yes.
He didn’t.
He left.
My nails dig into my palm. He’s my brother, at least in the eyes of everyone else in this town. He couldn’t have asked me, even if he wanted to, so I don’t know why I let my silly little heart go back to that concept. It never would have been allowed, even if we both wanted to be together.
From the corner of my eye, I notice rowdy movement that doesn’t pair well with the ambiance of this pretentious place.
A table tucked just out of the glow of our fake celebration holds a group of Castlebrook’s worst-behaved…the bull riders from Grey’s Ranch. They don’t belong here. Especially not Caiden Grey, slouched in his chair, long legs sprawled, sipping from a dark bottle instead of a glass.
My heartbeat stutters because something is happening. I can see the looks on everyone’s faces at my table.
Why are they here?
They never come to this part of town, not unless they’re making a statement.
I lift my eyes and meet Caiden’s, and he doesn’t look away. A shiver races down my spine because I can tell Caiden knows something.
I remember what Riven told me once about Caiden Grey: he lives by a code. Never touches what isn’t his. Never lays hands on a girl who belongs to someone else. That was the first time Riven had called me his. He’s made the comment, “Don’t be afraid of him. He knows you belong to me.” I’ll never forget the feeling that soared through me in that moment. I belonged to Riven Kozlov, even if he didn’t mean it in the way I wanted him to, I was still his.
My chest pulls tight. I don’t want to get my hopes up because Caiden’s presence here tonight could be a coincidence.
But it isn’t.
I know it in my bones.
Matthew starts talking again. Loud. Obnoxious. Something about our honeymoon plans. The word Maldives floats across the table like a curse.
Something inside me snaps.
I once thought Riven would burn the world for me, so maybe it’s time I start the fire.
I can’t run. They’d find me. Drag me back. But I can end this. I can kill Matthew. I know I’ve got it in me.
I know herbs. I know poisons. I know where the hemlock grows at the edge of the woods behind the old mill.
It wouldn’t take much. Just a pinch. Just enough for someone his size.
And then I’d disappear. I’d rather live on the run, in the woods, for fucksake, then deal with whatever torture the slimeball next to me has in store.
A hand slides under the table and grabs my knee.
Fucking gross.
He starts to move it up my thigh, a smug smile on his putrid face.
I jerk away and grab my fork off the table. “I hope you’re ambidextrous, because if you don’t get your hand off of me, you’ll never use this hand again,” I snap.
He laughs, pulling his hand away from my leg and waving my mother off when she squeals, ready to reprimand me for threatening to stab precious little Matthew with silverware.
“Wiry little thing,” Matthew coos like I’m a horse to be broken. A poorly behaved dog to be trained.
My mother hisses, “Lakynn, behave. He’s just being sweet.”
I want to scream. I want to stand up and flip the table and tell them all to go to hell.
Instead, I scoot my chair away from him. It’s not far, but my point has been made.
He reaches again, but this time around my waist, and tries to pull me closer.
That’s when the glass clinks loudly and obnoxiously.
Everything stills.
Silverware freezes mid-air. Conversations halt.
Caiden Grey stands and walks toward us like a reaper in denim and a pearl snap.
He slams his beer bottle down on the table narrowly missing my father’s hand. The sound is sharp and jarring, and my father’s eyes flash with something akin to surprise for a second before he masks it. “I didn’t know this establishment serves anything in a bottle.”
Caiden doesn’t smile. “They’ll serve me whatever I ask for. Just like everyone else on this fucking mountain.”
His tone is meant to incite my father, but his eyes are locked on Matthew.
He’s silent, but his message is loud and clear. It’s a warning. A promise.
Matthew stands. “Run along, cowboy,” he says. “She belongs to me, not your little friend.” I suck in a breath because people have called Riven Kozlov a lot of things over the years, but at six-foot-five, little has never been one of them.
Caiden grins, slow and cruel. “I think we all know who Miss Lakynnn belongs to. And it’s not anyone at this table.”
My father sets his wine down with a hard clink. “You’re not one to overstep, Grey. You need to remember the rules you impart on everyone else on this mountain, don’t you think?”
Caiden turns his head, deliberate, unbothered. “Am I?” He shrugs. “You should be honest with her. Tell her where Riven really is.”
My breath catches. The room shrinks.
My father’s expression darkens. “That’s not your concern.”
“It is when she’s being fed lies to keep her quiet,” Caiden replies, voice low and deadly. “You think it’s smart to double-cross the monster you created? You think he’s going to sit around while she’s forced to play house with this asshole?”
Matthew bristles. “You don’t know a thing about me.”
Caiden doesn’t even glance at him. “I know she flinched when you touched her. I know she looks like she’s planning her own funeral. I know that dress wasn’t her choice, and neither was this dinner.”
“You’re making a mistake,” Mr. Kozlov growls. “I have complete control over Riven, and you need to remember that.”
Caiden leans forward, bracing his palms on the table. “This mountain is my business, old man. Every forest path. Every back road deal. I know everything. And if you think Riven is still under your thumb, you’re in for a big surprise. You took away the only thing that will ever control him and now you’ll pay the price.”
“Enough, Caiden Grey. You have absolutely no right trying to ruin my daughter’s night,” my mother snaps, rising from her chair, voice shaking. She’s trying to save face and doesn’t see that everyone is on the same page with each other, yet a completely different book than she is right now.
The illusion is shattered, and I swear it feels like something in me cracks open.
Because Caiden didn’t come here to start a fight with my father, that was just a fun little bonus for him. He came to send a message from Riven.
The air leaves my lungs, heat rushes up my neck and floods my face.
Caiden looks right at me and says, “Tell Riven I said hello when you see him.”
The floor feels like it tilts beneath me.
He’s coming.
Riven really coming back.
Caiden turns and kicks my father’s chair hard enough to knock it backward. The legs screech across the floor. My father goes down, stunned and sprawling.
Caiden pours the last of his beer over top of him in one last act of humiliation before he walks back to his table without a glance back. All of the men at this table and none of them, not even Lucas or Matthew, are willing to stand up and defend him. None of them are willing to go against Caiden.
The silence that follows is absolute.
Until my mother snaps, “What in God’s name was that?” She’ll spin her narrative and everyone at the table will agree with her, pretending that we didn’t all witness Caiden’s little show. I block it out. I can’t focus on anything other than Caiden’s voice echoing in my skull.
Tell Riven I said hello.
He’s coming back for me.