Chapter Thirty
Athens
Karter’s sapphire eyes are the kind that swallow you whole. Dangerous. Beautiful. A storm dressed in charm.
He asks me what I’m going to do about it.
I could cry. I could scream. I could pack what little soul I have left and disappear from this place forever.
But that would make me prey. And I’m done playing victim.
Someone put their hands on me. Someone unknown took what didn’t belong to them and branded it with pleasure. And I fucking felt it. My body didn’t fight it. It burned for it.
I should be disgusted. Instead… I smile.
“I’m going to own it,” I whisper, dragging my fingers down the front of Karter’s shirt. “Wear it like a goddamn crown. Whoever touched me without my permission? They’re gonna wish I was broken.”
Karter’s lips twitch into something dark, dangerous. “You damn well better.”
He kisses me, sharp and sweet, the kind of kiss that stains.
“Now talk. Everything. Word for word. Don’t spare a single fucking detail.”
So I do.
I recount the way that masked stranger made me tremble. How his voice twisted into something haunting. How he fucked me like he knew my body better than I do. I speak every filthy syllable with my chin lifted and shame burned from my tongue.
And when I finish, the room is so silent it could bleed.
Their faces are unreadable. Walls of ice. Monsters caged by control.
Then Wyck steps forward. Voice low. Razor-edged.
“When we find him… he’s dead.”
God. Why does that turn me on?
It should send me running. Should have me scrubbing myself clean.
But it doesn’t.
It makes my thighs clench and my blood thrum.
“I want to be there,” I say, fire licking my throat. “When it happens. I want to see the light leave his eyes.”
Five heads snap in my direction.
“What?” I ask, daring them to flinch.
“You want to what, now?” Dash asks, arching a brow.
“You heard me.” I straighten, folding my arms. I won’t cower.
Dash opens his mouth, but Wyck beats him to it.
“If you do that, it’ll change you,” he says. His voice isn’t mocking. It’s regretful. Honest.
“Is that what changed all of you?” I ask, voice barely above a breath.
“Yes,” Dash murmurs.
“No,” Karter says at the same time.
I look at them, really look . The five Devils of Cliffside. Flesh and blood, but forged in something colder than steel. They weren’t born monsters. They were sculpted into it.
And I wonder… who did the carving?
“I want the truth,” I say. “I’ve been reading those journals. There are entries with your names in them. From when we were kids. Wyck, are they real?”
His gaze catches mine. Brown, but not soft. There’s a storm in them now. Sadness too.
“They’re real,” he says. “We were friends. All of us. You used to light up a room just by breathing.”
Something fractures inside me.
That truth lands like a hammer to the ribs. My knees buckle. My past slams into me like a freight train. Strong arms catch me before the fall, Wyck.
I look up at him, at the man who’s haunted my steps and stolen my sleep.
“I don’t blame you,” I whisper, even as tears sting my eyes. “I just… I wish I could remember.”
His grip tightens like he’s trying to keep me from slipping away again.
“I’m starting to remember pieces,” I say. “The journals help. Some feelings come with them, like muscle memory. But none of it explains him. ”
“Who?” Dash asks.
“Bash.” His name tastes like rot. “What the fuck does Bash have to do with any of this?”
My chest aches. My stomach growls like something caged and starving. Like it knows the truth is coming and it’s going to devour us all
“Sounds like you need food,” Dash says with a low chuckle, trying to break the tension.
My stomach growls again, traitorous and loud, and I give a dry laugh in return. “Yeah, well... after everything that went down tonight, I need food, a scalding shower, and maybe a coma.”
Thunder cracks outside, shaking the windows and throwing lightning-blue shadows across the room. I flinch, breath hitching as another boom rumbles through the air.
Fuck storms.
I shift closer to Wyck on instinct. “We need to go back to our room. I don’t want to be alone if this storm keeps up.”
Wyck’s voice is all gravel and steel. “We’re not staying here much longer.”
His tone flips a switch in me. That dangerous, no-questions edge. That voice that takes me apart molecule by molecule when we’re alone.
“It’s late. We’ve got forty-eight hours to figure this shit out, and we’re gonna use every damn second. Dash, bring the Escalade around back. No lights. Wells, text Fred and Ryan, meet us there. Same location.”
Watching him take control like this makes something primal uncoil in my belly. He's always been unshakeable, but tonight? He’s feral. On edge. Protective.
I’m already halfway wet.
But I still need answers.
“Where are we going?”
His gaze snaps to mine, and the corner of his mouth lifts, wolfish. “So many questions, Brat... all will be answered in due time.”
I know that look. That locked-jaw, lip-nibbling stare that means he's thinking ten steps ahead and probably won’t share a single damn one with me until the moment it matters.
Then Karter, in true Karter fashion, blows it all up.
“So…” he drawls, eyes on me like a hunter, “does he fuck better than us?”
I nearly choke on my tongue.
“What the hell?” I spin around so fast I almost trip over myself. “Are you serious right now?”
“Dead serious,” he says, tone light, but jaw tight. “Because I wanna know if I should snip his dick off. I’m gonna do it anyway, for touching what’s ours, but, y’know… intel helps.”
I blink at him. “You’re unhinged.”
“And yet,” he grins, “you’re still standing here dripping in us.”
Right. I said I’d own it. That no matter what happened tonight, no one would shame me for it, including myself.
I square my shoulders. “I won’t say he was better… but it was different.” My voice doesn’t shake. “And I should’ve known something felt off. I should’ve-”
“Don’t,” Wyck cuts in, eyes still cast to the side. “Stop punishing yourself.”
“I’m not.” I breathe out. “Just being honest. It’s not like I knew… Onyx and I haven’t even, ” I pause, biting down on the truth. “We haven’t slept together. Not really.”
Silence. One heavy enough to choke on.
“Let’s go,” Wyck mutters. “Car’s almost here.”
I move toward him, but he won’t look at me. Not directly. That stings more than I want to admit.
“Wyck?”
“Athens.”
“Why are you mad at me?” My voice is quieter now, a little raw. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
His eyes finally find mine. Something dark and gutted flickers in them, guilt, rage, something ancient.
“I’m not mad at you. I’m mad because I should’ve had this locked down. You were supposed to feel safe. Protected. But instead, some fuck waltzed into our world, into you , like he belonged there.” His grip tightens around my hand as he brings it to his lips. “I failed you tonight.”
“You can’t be so hard on yourself.”
But he’s already spiraling. I can see it in the way his shoulders rise with each breath.
“This was our fault,” he says, voice low and violent. “One night. We let our guard down for one fucking night , and someone slipped in. That doesn’t happen in my world. Not anymore.”
A chill runs down my spine at the way his tone hardens. The Wyck I know, the one who kisses me like I’m oxygen and breaks me open with his mouth, he’s gone.
In his place stands the Devil.
And maybe that’s what I need right now.
So I don’t argue. I don’t challenge him. I let him guide me out, flanked on all sides by the rest of them like I’m a queen they’d burn kingdoms for.
Because we all know this isn’t over.
We’re not just heading into the night.
We’re going hunting.
And someone’s going to bleed for touching what doesn’t belong to them.
jolt awake, disoriented. My mouth’s open. My face is damp.
Snoring.
“Seriously, what the fuck?” I mutter, swiping at the drool.
“Look who finally rose from the dead.” Karter’s voice slithers beside me, half amusement, half heat. “Queen of Snores lives to haunt us again.”
He’s grinning teeth flashing under dim interior lights, full brows twitching like he’s proud of that title he just gave me. “Don’t worry about spitting on me, Brat. I’m more into it than I should be. But when you let me? That’s the real art.”
My lip curls, half smile, half hunger. Bastard knows exactly how to get under my skin and drag the heat out of me.
“How long was I out?”
“Long enough to sound like you were gargling demons and drooling like you missed your last meal,” he replies, stretching lazily. “Don’t worry, you didn’t miss shit. We just arrived.”
I lift my head and peer out the tinted window. Nothing but shadows and silhouettes. Looks like we’re on a bridge, but it’s too dark to be sure. My head bumps against the glass as a shimmer appears through the trees.
“Is that… a waterfall?” I ask, and immediately regret it.
A beat passes. Then, “Did you just ask if the real-ass waterfall outside the window is real ?” I glare at my own reflection.
“You’re so fucking dumb sometimes,” I whisper to myself.
Dash turns in the front seat, brow cocked. “She’s a ten, even though she talks to herself like a certified lunatic.”
“If I wasn’t crazy, I’d be boring.” I stick out my tongue and flip him off. “Try again.”
His soft laugh dances in the silence just as the SUV slows. “We’re here,” Wyck says from the front, voice sharp. He kills the engine. A second later, all the doors swing open in perfect sync.
I smirk. If I move, you move… just like that. Vibes.
Before I can swing my legs out, Wells is already there, hand out, protective as always, pulling me into him like I might vanish.
I don’t hate it.
Not when his arms wrap tight around my waist and his fingers slip under my shirt to brush bare skin.
A spark jolts through me.
“Wells,” I breathe, giggling like some drunk schoolgirl. My chest presses against his.
“I didn’t do nothin’,” he says, smirk carved into marble.