Chapter 3
OREN
She's looking less fragile when she finally opens up about why she's here.
The only problem is that now I'm the one dealing with emotions that are threatening to overwhelm and drag me back where I don't want to go.
I walk away from her, listening as she describes the damage she found. Interior ransacked, front door hanging by the hinges. Furniture slashed and upended.
It's all too familiar, the picture forming in my mind.
A small home in a village half a world away. The family that lived there gone, missing, taken. People we'd sworn to watch over and protect.
But we were too late.
A chill washes over me, my stomach churning, but I keep my face as neutral as I could when I turn back to face Ayla.
"No one was staying there, though? As far as you know?"
She shakes her head, taking another long drink from the bottle, and I watch the motion of her throat.
"Not that I know of. The way Grandma made it sound, I was the only person she wanted to be there. It was part of her estate. My inheritance."
Her eyes take on a shine and I almost reach for her, expecting tears. Ayla takes a steadying breath, instead, and then meets my eyes with that same determination I saw earlier.
"She said I was the only one she trusted to take care of her part of the mountain."
I nod. "That sounds like Margery. She swore no one was going to ruin her spot."
That earns me a smile, and even in the dim light of the shed, I'm struck by how pretty she is. Which is something I shouldn't notice.
Not even a little bit.
Because Margery didn't send this girl to me for my own enjoyment. She sent her to me for protection. To keep her safe.
So I better get to work.
I consider my tools, mentally running through a list of what I might need to secure the cabin.
Based on the amount of damage Ayla described, I likely can't fix everything tonight, but I can at least make sure the door is set to rights and secure.
So the woman can sleep without worrying about someone breaking in again.
It's quick work to get everything together, and when I look back at Ayla, she's watching me.
Eyes assessing, but I can't read her expression.
A quiet voice in my mind warns me to keep up the front I use around most people. Cold, cruel, frightening.
But I can't with Margery's granddaughter.
And what's truly terrifying is that I don't want to.