CHAPTER 72 ROHAN
ROHAN
T hunder rumbled as Rohan made his way back to the forest, his golden dart held between his middle finger and thumb. A storm was coming, but there wasn’t a storm in the world that could have kept Rohan away from a certain tree as night fell.
If Zella expected Rohan to fall prey to Brady Daniels—or Savannah—she was going to be sorely disappointed.
You played the long game, Duchess. I play a vicious one. Rohan knelt and stabbed the dart into the side of the silver plaque. This time, there was a click. “ Only at night ,” Rohan murmured, as the plaque rotated ninety degrees, revealing an opening underneath.
Rohan thrust his hand down and into it. His fingers locked around the leather cover of a ledger, and when he pulled it out, he heard the delicate clinking of metal.
Charms, attached to a ribbon on the book .
He helped himself to one—a tree, by the feel of it—then opened the ledger and pressed his watch to the page.
The book lit up, allowing Rohan to see his name appear on the otherwise blank sheet. First.
There was a flash of brilliant light to his left, and Rohan turned to see an ultra-powerful spotlight shining up into the sky through a break in the canopy overhead.
Rohan tilted his head back, taking in the result.
Letters—three of them—appeared against the backdrop of the night, washing out the stars.
LIE.
And there’s the next clue , Rohan thought.
He did a thorough examination of the hidden compartment to ensure there was nothing further, and then he tossed the ledger back into the hole, locked his fingers around the golden dart again, and pulled it from the plaque.
The spotlight didn’t switch off, but the plaque descended, covering the compartment once more.
Rohan stood. There was a rustle in the woods about twenty yards away. Thanks to the spotlight, he was able to make out the full outline of Lyra Kane’s silhouette as she made way toward him, toward the tree. She lifted her gaze to the sky, taking in the word that appeared there.
LIE.
“Some lies are beautiful,” Rohan told his opponent, “for a time.”
Lyra knelt next to the plaque, her gaze on the dart in Rohan’s hand, leaving Rohan to wonder if she still had her own. Wasting no time, Lyra ran her hand around the edge of the plaque and found the hole, and then Rohan got his answer about the dart as Lyra withdrew hers from her jacket pocket.
Raindrops began to fall as she made use of it.
Soon enough, she’d signed the ledger and returned it to the compartment, and it occurred to Rohan that there was one more thing he could do to put distance between Lyra Kane and Grayson Hawthorne, between Savannah and himself. Perhaps he’d already pushed Lyra too far.
But perhaps not.
Lyra stood, and Rohan allowed his body to list toward hers. “If you find yourself in need someone to despise , Ms. Kane…” Rohan wielded his rogue’s smile like a blade. “I assure you that I am most despicable.”
Often, it was those who pushed the world away who had the strongest underlying need to be anything other than alone.
“I don’t need your assurances,” Lyra bit out. “I don’t need anything from anybody.”
That was, of course, a lie, and as Rohan considered his next move, the part of his brain that was always listening registered that they were about to have company. Long strides, weight to the balls of the feet.
Hello, Savvy.
Rohan let his eyes settle on Lyra’s—brown, not that palest of blues and grays. After a long moment, he lifted his gaze to the clue in the sky, offering his face up to the rain as he did. “We’re all liars, Ms. Kane.”
“Knowing that…” Savannah announced her presence like he was not already well aware of it, making her way toward them.
“Living it…” Savannah crouched next to the still-raised plaque and retrieved the ledger for herself, and then she looked up at Rohan and Lyra both. “That’s the grandest game of all.”