Chapter 39
A fter twenty-three years of separation—and six years believing her dead—my cold, blackened heart never dreamed I’d be reunited with Helen.
My sweetheart.
The mother of my child.
There’s no universe where someone like me should end up in the same place as her. Not with the blood on my hands. My soul is too stained to be anywhere near hers.
As much as the choice we made was the right one—for Cora’s safety, for her survival—it cost me a piece of myself I’ll never get back. The part that dared to dream.
So when I turned to leave Cole’s funeral, the weight of his death dragging behind me like an anchor, I thought I was seeing things.
It wouldn’t be the first time her ghost haunted me.
Despite Logan’s suspicions and Owen’s cautious hope, I never dared to believe she might still be alive. Dreams and happy endings are luxuries men like me aren’t afforded. Second chances don’t come to those whose hands are soaked in blood.
But then Cora let out a sob—raw, broken, and gut-wrenching—and I knew I wasn’t the only one seeing her.
She’s a shadow of the woman I once held. Pale. Bruised. Haunted. But still—undeniably, devastatingly— my Helen.
As I move closer, the bruises on her skin burn into my memory. And the hollowed-out look in her eyes? It tears something open in me.
And in that moment, I make a vow so deep it rewires my bones:
I will erase that look.
I will destroy whoever gave it to her.
Pulling her and Cora into my arms feels like coming home. Like something real anchoring me in the chaos.
I’ll slay every demon that haunts her.
Whatever it takes to help her heal from the hell she’s survived—I’ll do it.
Even if she never lets me hold her again, nothing will stand in my way.