Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
DONOVAN
THE PRESENT
The icy wind cut through my jacket as I crouched behind the crumbling wall of an abandoned farmhouse, my breath clouding in the frigid night air.
The others were moving into position, shifting shadows against the overgrown grass and skeletal trees.
I should have been focused. Should have been scanning for movement, listening for the telltale sound of rustling leaves or unnatural stillness.
Instead, my fingers curled around my phone inside my pocket.
No messages.
No missed calls.
Nothing.
Asher had gone off-grid weeks ago. No warning. No explanation. Just vanished.
Then Declan found him, by accident, of all things, while on a mission.
He barely had time to tell me before dropping another bombshell. Asher wasn’t alone. He was with a vampire. A bloody vampire.
Declan tried to talk sense into him, tried to convince him to come home, but Asher refused. He’d been stubborn.
More than that, resistant. Like he wasn’t even the same person I’d grown up with.
And then, before I could even process that, Declan went radio silent too.
Now both of them were off the grid. And it was driving me out of my mind.
Asher used to be the logical one. The steady one. But after Finn disappeared, something inside him cracked.
He stopped thinking things through. Stopped being careful. Recklessness replaced reason.
It was like I didn’t even know him anymore.
And then there was Declan.
I’d known him for too long, understood him too well.
He wasn’t the kind of person to just disappear.
Something was wrong. I felt it in my bones.
“Donovan.”
Kit’s voice snapped me back to the present. He was crouched a few feet away, eyes sharp despite the darkness.
A fresh scar cut across his jaw, another reminder that I was supposed to be watching his back, not obsessing over something I couldn’t control.
I forced my grip to tighten around the hilt of my hunting knife instead of my phone.
“I’m good,” I told him.
Kit didn’t look convinced, but he nodded and turned his attention back toward the farmhouse.
The intel had been solid. There was a nest here, a small one, maybe four or five vampires, but numbers didn’t matter if we weren’t careful.
Our squad leader, Beckett, signaled from across the field. Move in.
We advanced, boots silent against the frostbitten earth. The team fanned out, slipping inside the rotting structure through different entry points.
My heartbeat should have been steady. This wasn’t my first hunt. It wasn’t even my tenth. But my pulse was erratic, my mind still elsewhere.
I shouldn’t be here.
I should be out there, tracking Declan and Asher down, figuring out why the hell they weren’t answering their phones.
A flicker of movement. A shadow where there shouldn’t be one.
I barely reacted in time.
The vampire lunged, a blur of speed and snarling fangs, and I wasn’t ready.
I stumbled back, my knife slipping in my grip. Pain exploded along my ribs as I hit the floor, the wind knocked clean out of me.
I struggled to raise my weapon, but claws raked across my shoulder before I could bring it up in time.
A blade flashed. A whoosh of steel cutting through the air.
Kit.
The vampire hissed as Kit’s knife sliced through its shoulder, staggering back just long enough for me to drive my blade up through its ribs, twisting deep.
The vampire went limp, collapsing against me before I shoved it off. Kit hauled me to my feet, his grip tight, his breath coming fast.
“Donovan, what the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded, barely keeping his voice low. “You almost got your throat ripped out!”
I was still breathing hard, my shoulder burning where the claws had torn through fabric and skin.
“I’m fine,” I told him.
Kit’s glare could’ve burned through steel. “Like hell you are.”
Before I could answer, another commotion erupted on the other side of the house. Gunfire, the wet snick of blades hitting their mark, shouts of warning.
The rest of the team was finishing off the nest.
“Move,” Kit snapped, shoving me toward the sound of the fight.
The battle ended minutes later, bodies crumpled in the dirt, blood seeping into the frozen ground. The mission was a success.
The nest was wiped out.
And I couldn’t bring myself to care.
Beckett was waiting for me outside once we regrouped.
His expression was as unreadable as ever. However, the way he crossed his arms over his chest, the way his eyes flicked right to the claw marks on my shoulder, told me I was in for it.
“Walk with me,” he said, his voice flat.
I didn’t have a choice.
The others moved ahead, heading for the vehicles waiting on the dirt road, but I trailed behind with Beckett.
“What happened back there?” he asked after a long silence.
I shrugged, the motion pulling at my wounds. “I hesitated.”
“That’s not like you.”
I stayed quiet.
Beckett stopped walking, turning to face me. His expression wasn’t angry, but it wasn’t kind either.
“I don’t know where your head is at, but you’re a liability if you’re distracted on a hunt.” His gaze hardened. “And tonight, you almost got yourself and Kit killed.”
The words should’ve hit harder. Should’ve made my stomach churn with guilt.
But they didn’t.
Because I didn’t care.
Not about the hunt. Not about performance. Not about any of it anymore.
“I hear you,” I said, voice empty.
Beckett studied me for a long moment, like he was trying to see through me, to figure out what had changed.
“Fix it, Donovan,” Beckett said.
He turned and walked away, leaving me standing there in the freezing night.
I pulled out my phone again, staring at the blank screen.
Still nothing.
I clenched my jaw, fingers tightening around the device.
Declan.
Asher.
Where the hell were they?
I slid inside the van where the rest of my team were waiting. The tension inside the van was suffocating.
They were whispering about me. They thought I couldn’t hear, but I did.
"Not surprised he lost it," one of them muttered. "Both his brothers are missing, probably dead."
"Yeah," another agreed. "Bound to snap eventually."
I clenched my jaw so tight it ached. My hands curled into fists, nails digging into my palms.
It would be so easy to turn around and shut them up.
A punch to the mouth, maybe a broken nose. Make them regret running their mouths about things they didn’t understand.
But before I could act, a firm hand grabbed my shoulder.
"Forget them," Kit murmured. "They’re just talking bullshit."
I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to breathe through the anger. Let it go. They weren’t worth it.
Kit’s presence was grounding. He always had a way of pulling me back when my emotions threatened to spiral.
He was young, one of the newest recruits, but smart and observant.
And ever since I’d saved his life on a mission, he’d made it his personal goal to return the favor, whether I asked for it or not.
I managed to calm down, shoving my hands into my pockets, shoulders still tense as I stared out the window.
The drive back to Guild Headquarters felt like it took forever, but finally, the van pulled into the lot.
Relief coursed through me the second I stepped out, stretching my stiff limbs.
As we unloaded the gear, Kit lingered near me.
I barely noticed at first, too caught up in my thoughts, but then he touched my shoulder again, stopping me.
"Hey," he said.
I turned, raising a brow.
"You need company?"
Kit gave me a small, shy smile, but there was something else in his expression. Something hesitant, hopeful.
I sighed. Kit had developed some kind of feelings for me.
I wasn’t stupid. I’d seen the way he looked at me ever since that mission, the way he always stayed close.
It wasn’t hard to guess what he wanted. But my heart didn’t belong to him. It belonged to Declan.
Even if I never admitted it out loud.
Even if Declan would never let himself belong to me.
A couple of nights spent together weren’t enough to convey what I really felt. Declan didn’t do relationships.
And like a fool, I had told him I was fine with just being friends with benefits. That I didn’t need anything more.
But that was a bald-faced lie.
I shook my head. "I’m fine."
Kit's smile faltered for just a second, but he nodded, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets.
"Alright, but if you change your mind, you have my number. I’m a good listener,” he said, voice light, like it didn’t bother him. But I saw the flicker of hurt in his eyes before he turned away.
I didn’t ponder on it.
I had too many other things on my mind.
By the time I reached my room, my body ached. I was battered, bloodied and exhausted, but I barely noticed. The second the door shut behind me, I pulled out my phone.
Still nothing.
No calls. No messages.
I swiped through my contacts, hovered over Declan’s name. My thumb twitched, debating whether to call.
Then I scrolled down to Asher.
I hesitated.
Screw Asher.
Screw both my brothers.
Finn and Asher both went off the deep end, choosing their vampire lovers over the Guild, over me. Over family. And they did it by choice.
They left me here.
Alone.
I clenched my jaw, shoving the thought away. I didn’t have the energy to deal with them right now.
But Declan…
Why wasn’t Declan contacting me?
I kept imagining worst-case scenarios.
What if the mission went wrong?
What if he was dead in a ditch somewhere, bleeding out, and I was just sitting here, waiting for a call that would never come?
I dragged a hand down my face, my pulse hammering against my skull.
Dang it.
What would Declan do in a situation like this?
He’d probably wait it out a little longer, weigh his options, think through the possibilities before making a move.
Maybe his cellphone didn’t have any reception. Perhaps he ran into an unexpected problem but came out of it unscathed. He always did.
Declan had a knack for survival, just like me.
So I waited.
I tried to convince myself it was nothing.
Tried to believe he was okay.
Tried to sleep.
But sleep wouldn’t come. And when it did, it dragged me straight into a nightmare.
In the dream, I saw Declan, lying in the grass, his body battered, clawing his way toward me.
His eyes, wide with desperation, were locked on mine.
Something unseen lurked behind him, a monster made of shadows, its form twisting, its claws digging into his flesh, dragging him back into the dark.
He wouldn’t give up.
Declan never gave up.
He clawed forward, inch by inch, his breath ragged, his lips parting
"Donovan, save me."
Three words.
Three haunting, final words.
The monster swallowed him whole.
I woke up with a gasp, heart hammering against my ribs, lungs tight, drenched in cold sweat. My skin prickled, still grimy from last night’s mission.
My hands shook as I raked them through my hair, my entire body stiff and aching.
"Just a dream."I whispered the words out loud, but they did nothing to calm me.
I snatched my phone off the nightstand, my thumb flying over the screen. I kept checking, hoping and praying, but the screen only stared back at me, blank, lifeless.
No messages. No calls.
Dead silence.
I threw the phone onto the bed and exhaled sharply, pressing my palms to my face.
This was getting out of hand. I needed to cool off, think clearly. I needed to do something.
Pushing myself off the bed, I dragged my exhausted body to the bathroom and stepped into the shower.
The water was scalding at first, burning against my raw skin, but I let it. I needed it.
Needed to feel something other than this helpless, gut-wrenching frustration.
As the water ran down my face, I let my thoughts wander.
Then I remembered.
Something I’d forgotten in all the chaos. That night, before Declan left, we got drunk. Not just tipsy, but wrecked.
Declan had laughed at me when I struggled to find my own boots. He’d stolen my jacket and refused to give it back.
I’d called him a bastard, and he’d smirked, leaning in too close, his breath warm against my skin, his eyes dancing with amusement.
"What, Donovan?" he'd murmured, challenging me.
I almost kissed him. Should’ve kissed him.
Instead, I’d done something infinitely more devious. While Declan wasn’t looking, I’d grabbed his phone and activated track my phone on our linked accounts.
I could still hear him drunkenly swearing at me the next morning when he realized I’d messed with his settings. I’d laughed it off, telling him it was for his own good.
"What if you go missing, huh? What if I need to come save your sorry ass?" I had asked him.
He had rolled his eyes, shoved my shoulder, but hadn’t bothered to turn it off. And now… now I needed it.
The moment the realization struck, I moved. I turned off the water, grabbed a towel, barely dried myself before yanking on my clothes.
My fingers worked fast, unlocking my phone, pulling up the tracker. My pulse pounded as the map loaded.
Come on. Come on, come on.
The location pin popped up. A small, isolated point. Nowhere near his last mission site. Nowhere he was supposed to be. My stomach twisted. My Declan was in trouble.
I swiped over to my flight app, ready to book the next flight out, but I hesitated.
Commercial flights were too slow. I couldn’t afford to sit around in an airport, waiting for a scheduled departure, praying for no delays.
Then I remembered. I had another option.
A contact of mine, someone who owed me big time for saving his life on a mission a couple of years ago.
A guy who, conveniently, was a pilot with access to a private jet.
I didn't waste another second.
I scrolled through my contacts, found Tom’s name, and hit call. The phone barely rang twice before he picked up.
"Donovan?" Tom’s groggy voice answered. "You do realize it's the ass crack of dawn, right?"
"I need a ride."
A pause. "A ride?"
"Jet. Fast as you can get it in the air."
That woke him up real quick.
“What kind of trouble are you in?" Tom asked.
"The kind where I don’t have time to answer questions,” I replied.
Another pause, then a sigh. "Shit. Fine. Where to?"
I rattled off the location, pacing the room as adrenaline coursed through me.
"Give me an hour," he said.
"You’ve got forty minutes."
"Donovan—"
"I saved your ass, remember?" I reminded him.
A long-suffering groan. "Yeah, yeah. I’ll have it ready. But you owe me after this."
I ended the call without answering. Because the only thing that mattered was that I was getting to Declan.