Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
acelynn
The desert had its own kind of silence.
Even with the Knights’ laughter breaking across the open air, it felt like something vast and watchful was just beyond the horizon, always listening.
The night sky stretched for miles, making me slightly dizzy as I stared at it too long—an endless ocean of black velvet pricked with icy, silver stars.
The abandoned airfield was the perfect setting for a bonfire, secluded from prying eyes, making it perfect for the Knights to let loose.
This place was a graveyard of metal and history.
Rusted World War II airplanes lay crooked in the sand like wounded beasts left to rot.
Their bodies were streaked with layers of graffiti—acid-bright tags, skulls with melted eyes, and curses in thick black paint.
The artwork bled together, a hundred different hands trying to leave their marks on something long since forgotten.
The largest wrecked plane hunched in the shadows beyond the bonfire’s reach. Its broken windows gaped like hollow eyes, and in the flickering light, it almost looked alive.
The Knights had claimed the open space between the wrecks, building a fire so big it could probably be seen for miles.
Flames leaped high, spitting sparks that vanished into the night.
Nolan and two others were feeding it hunks of wood, their faces glowing red from the heat.
Surrounding the fire were three beaten-up sofas, torn and worn from sitting in the sun.
I didn’t dare sit on them, not knowing what might lie in their cushions.
Someone had dragged an old speaker out here, its sound warped and crackling as the music flowed through the open summer air.
Astoria was draped across a folding chair near the fire, long legs crossed at her ankles.
She smiled brightly at the story one of the men was telling.
I stayed on the edge of the group, boots scuffing the sand.
The heat barely reached me here. My arms wrapped tight around myself, though it wasn’t just the chill of the desert night that made me hold on.
Something about the empty stretch of land and the silent hulks of planes made the hair rise on the back of my neck.
That’s when I felt him.
Kaius didn’t need to announce himself to me—he never did. His presence was a pull all its own, dragging me into his orbit no matter how much I fought against it. I caught the faint, smoky scent of him before he spoke, laced with the clean bite of whiskey on his breath.
“You’re hiding,” he murmured, voice low enough that it vibrated against the side of my neck.
“I am not,” I said, keeping my eyes trained on the fire. “I’m observing.”
Kaius stepped closer. I could feel the heat of his body press against my back. “Watching is boring. Come on.”
His hand brushed against my wrist, his touch light at first, then curling around it with purpose.
That simple touch burned more than the fire did.
Kaius led me away from the others, weaving between the wrecks until the voices and music dimmed, swallowed by the echo of the wind whistling through jagged metal.
Dropping my wrist, he stepped up into the largest plane before turning to help me in. From up here, the wings stretched out like broken arms, the tips dipping into the sand. The graffiti inside the cabin was older, faded into a ghost of colors. The smell of rust and gasoline clung to the air.
Kaius’s hand slid to my waist, pulling me into him, the rough brush of his jacket against my bare arm causing me to shiver. His other hand braced against the cool, dented metal beside my head. I could hear the low, steady cadence of his breathing, feel the heat rolling off him in waves.
“Better?” he asked, his mouth just inches from mine.
I wanted to say no. I wanted to tell him to go back to the fire and leave me in peace. But instead, my gaze locked with his, the space between us heavy and charged, like the air right before a lightning strike.
His lips dipped closer. I could taste the faint burn of whiskey. My own lips parted, the pull between us snapping tight until it hurt.
An earsplitting scream ripped through the desert.
We jumped apart, turning to see the landscape below us lit up, and it wasn’t the fire the Knights had set.
It was farther out, beyond the circle of the wrecks, maybe a quarter mile or so away.
At first, I thought someone had set another blaze, but then I saw the shape—perfectly symmetrical lines crisp on the dunes in the distance.
A massive spade, flames licking the edge, the center black against the burning sand.
The Death Dealers mark. My family’s mark.
Every muscle in my body locked up, my lungs forgetting how to work properly. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, pulling me toward the symbol as if it were a black hole.
Kaius stiffened, his head turning toward it. “What the hell…”
My stomach dropped as the wind shifted. It carried a sharp, oily stink of whatever accelerant they had used. The flames hissed and roared like they were laughing at me.
“It’s him.” My voice cracked before I could stop it.
Kaius’s head snapped back to me, eyes narrowing. “Logan?”
I bit down hard on my tongue, tasting copper, trying my best to choke down the tears before they could escape.
The promise he had made when I left him rang in my skull, the constant threats that looked over me in Lovelen, every word dripping with the certainty that I would be his once again, no matter whose protection I was under.
Kaius’s grip tightened on me as I swayed on my feet. “Acelynn…”
But I couldn’t look at him. My eyes stayed locked on the spade, the flames climbing higher into the night like a warning. Like a countdown.