Chapter 26
Agatha
The cuff slips open without a sound. My hand falls to the mattress, and red marks cover my skin.
I flex my fingers once, twice, the ache biting sharp.
For a second, I think about lunging. Scratching.
Using my nails to blind whoever is closest. But three sets of eyes are on me, and I know I wouldn’t make it two steps before I was back on this bed in worse shape.
So I curl my fingers into a fist and let my hand rest.
Evander watches me with that too-steady calm, the kind that makes me want to scream just to see if I can break it.
“Good,” he murmurs, like my restraint is a test I didn't realize I was taking.
Corwin whistles low. “Thought for sure she’d swing at you.” He leans closer, grin sharp. “You still might, won’t you, Little Horror?”
“Try me,” I snap.
Corwin’s eyes light up as if someone has handed him a toy. Garron shifts behind him, one heavy hand landing on his brother’s shoulder, pulling him back a step. “Don’t bait her.”
“She baited first,” Corwin shoots back.
They’re always pulling in opposite directions, I think. And then there’s Evander, the one who makes sure it doesn’t tip too far either way.
He crouches now, level with me, his palm brushing the cuff at my other wrist but not unlocking it. “Say another truth,” he says.
I bare my teeth. “I can’t stop thinking about the woods, the barn, or even the fucking tattoo shop.”
Corwin laughs like it's his favorite joke. Garron doesn’t move. Evander just blinks once. “Not good enough.”
“I told you the truth,” I spit.
“We already knew you liked it. Hell, wanted more,” Evander replies. “Tell us something that costs you.” His voice is calm, and it needles under my skin because he is right.
I hate him for it. I hate that I can feel the words clawing in my throat.
“You want me to hand you my secrets like candy?” My laugh is sharp. “You think you’ve earned that?”
Corwin leans on the mattress, close enough that I feel the heat of him. “Spill something dirty. Something you don’t even tell your mirror.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I hiss.
He grins. “There it is. The fire.”
I don’t know whether to hate him or trust him for it.
Evander still hasn’t looked away. His hand stays on the cuff, thumb brushing the edge of the leather. “One chance,” he says softly. “Say something true. No venom. No drama. Truth. Earn your next inch.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. For a second, all I see is the bathtub. Sixteen years old, Michael’s hand on my head, shoving me under cold water while Debra prayed. I smell vinegar. I hear the hiss of scripture being taped over glass.
My chest burns.
“My father used to baptize me in our tub when he thought I sinned,” I whisper, the words spilling before I can stop them.
My eyes fly open. Their faces are watching.
All three. “Cold water. Over and over until I thought I’d drown.
Debra washed me with vinegar after. Said it would burn the lust out. ”
The room goes still.
Corwin’s grin falters. “No wonder you’re fucked up,” he mutters. But there’s a gleam in his eyes that tells me he likes me even more for it.
Garron doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. His hands fist once at his sides, knuckles white. He swallows but says nothing.
Evander is the one who breaks it. His voice is quiet, almost reverent. “That is the truth.”
Corwin leans forward, sharp again. “Got more of those, Little Horror? I’d bleed a dozen truths out of you just to hear how you sound when they burn.”
“Back off,” Garron growls.
“No.” I sit up, wrists raw, hair wild around my face, and glare at each one in turn. “You want truths? Then tell me yours. Have you been stalking me since I was a child? Since I left there? How long has this been going on?”
For the first time, none of them rushes to answer. Corwin smirks, Garron breathes heavily, Evander studies me like he can peel back my skin and see the marrow.
Finally Evander speaks. “No, it’s only been since the start of the school year.
We knew you intrigued us back in school, but you didn’t talk to or hang with anyone.
Then you were gone. Imagine our surprise when we see you years later standing in our nephew’s classroom as his teacher.
Then, that meddling bitch sent out the email telling everyone about your channel.
Just like that. We were hooked, lined, and sunk. ”
My heart pounds hard enough to bruise.
Garron’s voice rumbles next. “Knowing your past means you can take pain and still lift your chin. That makes you strong.”
Corwin’s grin curves sharp again. “And because you fuck like you mean it.”
My laugh is bitter. “At least one of you can’t pretend it’s deeper than that.”
Evander’s mouth tilts, not quite a smile. “Deeper always comes later. Tonight, we deal in truth.”
He leans back, giving me space. And for the first time since this started, I feel something dangerous.
I feel choice.
The buckle slides open with another soft click. My second wrist is free.
Blood rushes to my hand, pins and needles stabbing at my fingers. I pull my arms down to my sides, curling them in close, protective. Not striking. Not yet.
“You’re really going to let her loose?” Corwin asks. “You’ve lost your damn mind.”
“She’s not going anywhere,” Evander says.
“You think that’s a guarantee?” Corwin snarls. “She’ll bolt the second her feet hit the floor.”
“Then we’ll chase,” Garron rumbles, steady as ever. “And she’ll learn.”
I flex my wrists, staring at them like I don’t know whether they’re mine anymore. Freedom tastes strange when it’s handed over by men who chained you in the first place.
Evander steps back, giving me space. “Stand up.”
The moment I stand, my balance falters and I catch myself against the bedframe. I expect one of them to steady me. None of them do.
“Walk,” Evander says.
“To where?”
“Anywhere in the cabin,” he says. “Just not outside. Not yet.”
Corwin snorts. “Not ever.”
I roll my eyes, brushing hair back from my face. “What if I try?”
“Then you’ll learn what it costs,” Garron says simply.
I test my weight, shifting forward. Each step is slow, my body braced for one of them to grab me. None do. They watch. Corwin perched on the bed like a predator, Garron planted near the door, Evander by the dresser, hands tucked in his pockets like this is just another night.
The floorboards groan under my bare feet as I take my first lap around the room. Small space. I stop by the door. Garron blocks it with his frame. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Just waits.
“Really?” I mutter. “The human wall routine?”
“You’ll thank me if you try it,” he says.
I glare at him, heat crawling up my neck. He’s right. And I hate it.
Evander tilts his head toward the hall. “Come on.”
My heart stutters. They’re really going to let me out.
Corwin hops down from the bed, grinning wide. “This’ll be good.”
Garron moves just enough to let me through. My shoulder brushes his chest, solid and immovable. I keep going.
The hallway stretches narrow, wood-paneled, lined with family photos I don’t bother to study. The air smells like cedar and ash. My pulse thunders in my throat.
“Keep moving,” Evander says behind me.
I do. Down the stairs, into the main room. The cabin is bigger than I expected. A stone fireplace, couches with worn cushions, a table scattered with crumbs. My eyes dart to the windows. Covered. Every one of them.
“Test them if you want,” Corwin says. “Already locked.”
I don’t give him the satisfaction. I keep walking, memorizing. Every corner, every creak, every obstacle between me and the door.
And yet—there’s something else in the pit of my stomach. My chin tips higher, my eyes linger longer, like I’m not trapped but inspecting my new kingdom. Their eyes follow me—three sets, three storms—and for the first time I feel the power of that. Queens are not handed crowns. Queens take them.
“See?” Evander says. “She’s not running.”
“Yet,” Corwin mutters.
I turn to face them, arms crossed tight. “What’s the point of this? Some little trust exercise? Let the pet sniff the perimeter before you yank the leash again?”
Evander’s eyes meet mine, calm, steady. “To see what you’ll do with choice.”
I laugh, harshly. “And if I choose the door?”
Corwin’s grin flashes sharp. “Then we get to chase, and when we catch you, I might give you another new piercing.”
My pulse spikes, and a shiver rolls through my body. I want to spit at them. I want to run. I want to stay. I hate myself for all of it.
I draw a long breath and lift my chin. “Fine. You wanted me walking. I’ve walked. Now what?”
Evander’s lips curve, the smallest smirk. “Now you tell us what you want.”