Chapter 22
Killian
I’ve done it. I’ve killed someone. Sure, he was supposedly a bad guy, and I did it for the sake of my husband’s dream, but I’m still shaken.
I’ve sometimes wondered if I could make myself hit someone really hard, or pull the trigger if someone dangerous became a threat, but in real life, my preferred response is to run.
Come to think of it, I’ve always outsourced my safety to others.
Even Damen is someone I approached for help when Happy got wind of my trail.
Today, I executed a cuffed man with a shot to the head.
I didn’t have to do it—Damen wasn’t trying to manipulate me. I could see it in his eyes that he was ready to give up this lifelong dream of his for my sake. I couldn’t let him down.
But I also couldn’t prove myself unworthy of the Van der Horn family. I am a part of it now, and what threatens them, threatens me also. I will no longer hide behind someone’s back.
“Are you sure you’re fine?” Damen asks as we all stand in front of the mansion, waiting for Karl to blow the horn signaling the start of the hunt.
Like all the other participants, my man is wearing a white outfit dappled with irregular blots of dark green, and armed with a crossbow, and I step closer to adjust the hat on his head.
I know he’s proficient, smart, and strong.
Not to mention that, unlike the prey, the hunters are armed, but I still worry for him
“It’s more of a… stage fright. Might get awkward fast without you around,” I whisper, noting that Victor is already stepping away from Alexandra with a goodbye wave.
Titus stands a bit farther away, and while I’m sure he’s glad to be out of the ugly blazer, he hasn’t forgiven us yet for the indignity of needing to wear it for a week.
He looks away when my eyes settle on him.
He still doesn’t like me? Not my problem.
Damen kisses my cheek, which has already gone numb from the cold.
A new layer of snow has covered everything around us overnight, which should make the tracking easier, but all I can see is beautiful scenery.
It’s hard to believe people will be hunted down in this postcard-perfect landscape, but I am here to support my man nevertheless.
“Good luck. Bring me as many trophies as you can carry,” I tell him with a playful smile. “And if you come empty-handed, I will be there to make you feel better.”
Damen chuckles and pinches my icy nose with his gloved hand. “That is not going to happen. Watch me squash Titus like a bug yet again.”
“Damen?”
“What is it, baby?”
I smile as my chest melts. “I love you too.”
“Ready?” Karl shouts from up on a large rock rising off the ground between the woodland and gardens.
Uncle Roger whistles and waves at Damen. “May the best one win.”
Damen keeps looking back at me as he joins the hunters and sends me a kiss through the air.
Several other members of the Van der Horn family are making their final preparations, but then Damen’s father blows into the antique horn, and the hunters bolt toward the trees like a pack of dogs catching a whiff of prey.
I practically smell danger in the air and hope the former prisoners haven’t gotten any stupid ideas about hiding close by and trying to take out the Van der Horns one by one.
I want to warn Damen about such a possibility, but the snow camo does its job, and soon enough, tracks in the snow are the only evidence that he was at my side not that long ago.
Who am I to give him advice anyway? He was born to do this while I’ve killed for the first time today.
People around me chat, familiar with each other, but I’m adrift without my prince.
Still, if Damen wants me to be a part of this family, I can’t let him put in all the effort, so I focus on his father and walk toward him, determined to bury the hatchet and show him that I can be the perfect partner for his son.
I’m halfway there when Bree steps in front of me with her sourest face yet.
I wonder if she’s one of those people who refrains from smiling in order to avoid causing premature wrinkles, but she doesn’t give me much time to consider that question.
“Why are you still here?” she asks, pushing back her long blonde hair.
“Excuse me?” I choke out, flushing at this sudden confrontation. “I did not have the time to prepare myself for—”
“It’s your first hunt. You need to be in your designated position,” she says, as if I received a folder containing all there is to know about my role in the hunt and refused to read it.
“Which is… where exactly?”
She sighs in exasperation. “In the big greenhouse. The spouses aren’t allowed to communicate during the hunt to avoid any cheating.”
“This is so elaborate for no reason! Isn’t it cold in there?”
“Not that cold, since orange trees can fruit in there. Just sit by the heater. Listen, I don’t care. If you want to get Damen disqualified, that’s not my problem.”
I count to ten. “Fine, I’m going.”
Turning on my heel, I leave behind the family I shot someone for and follow a path leading to the southern side of the mansion. I know exactly what place Bree is talking about, because Damen took some photos of me with the gorgeous tropical trees and bushes a few days back.
Despite its smaller size, the elongated Victorian building with a glass dome in the very middle somehow appears even grander than the main house.
Maybe it’s about the excess of glass, or the fact that back when the greenhouse was first built, the plants grown inside were so rarely seen outside their natural habitat, but I love it all the same.
I could do with something to read, but maybe it’s for the better that I’ll get to spend the day with lemon trees, palms, and azaleas draped with tinsel rather than with Bree and Karl Van der Horn.
I don’t even want to be around Victor and his kids, because I’m too nervous to chat and play.
I sit in the shade of a large palm tree, and since the greenhouse is on a hill, I can look out through the window onto the woods where Damen hopefully doesn’t run into complications when collecting heads.
This is my life now. I got thrust into it by the strangest coincidence of events, and while I’m sure being with Damen will have its challenges, I’m open to facing them at his side.
For once, I don’t feel alone and adrift, fighting for my survival like some street cat.
I’ve been chosen, and it’s the sweetest feeling.
My life is finally changing its trajectory.
I touch the padlock choker with a sigh. I love this mark of ownership, even if some would have called it toxic. Maybe I’m toxic too, since it makes me feel so good about myself and my relationship with Damen.
I sit there with only the ticking of my new watch as my companion, but I’m excited about what our life together will bring.
Will we live around New York, or jet around the world to luxurious hotels?
I always wanted to visit London, and to think that now it’s a very real possibility?
I had to spill blood to claim my rightful place, but I still feel like the luckiest man alive.
I’m deep in my thoughts, imagining romantic gondola rides in Venice, or rooftop dinners in Paris when something creaks on the other side of the greenhouse.
I glance that way but see nothing through the bushes growing under the dome, so I get to my feet, suddenly hopeful that maybe I’m not meant to wait here all day.
Maybe this was pre-planned, and Damen has come to meet me?
A flush rises to my cheeks as I breathe in the fragrant air in this warm garden surrounded by snow. Is it possible that Damen wants to propose to me here for real?
But when a figure in black emerges from behind a small rhododendron, I stall with my foot raised.
Something inside tells me to run, but I don’t get to take another step before the stranger raises a crossbow. A swish later, air is knocked out of my lungs and pain shoots through my body, knocking me over.