Chapter 33
Kane
Blair sits curled on the couch beside Kylie, their heads bent together while they talk about something that makes them both laugh. The sound fills the room in a way I didn’t realize this place had been missing before. Peace. Actual fucking peace.
Cal sits at the kitchen table, messing around with brake calipers from an old timer that lives in the shed. And Rook leans against the far wall with his arms crossed, pretending not to listen but smirking anyway. Even my older, usually broody-as-fuck brother looks relaxed.
The day went better than any of us expected.
Blair saw her family without the elites catching wind, and I got her back to the cabin safely.
The bond between us hums softly in my chest now. It’s steady, it’s strong, and I know with certainty she’s mine.
I glance over at her, and when she catches me looking, she playfully rolls her eyes. She also smiles too.
My woman is a stubborn, strong-willed firecracker, and I fucking love her.
I’m about to walk over to her sassy ass, throw her over my shoulder, and take her to bed, but before I get three steps across the living room, I pause when I hear a knock at the door.
The sound lands hard against the cabin door, and everyone in the room freezes.
Rook lifts his head.
Cal stands.
And I head straight for the door.
No one knocks out here. Ever.
A second knock follows the first, but this one is slow in a way that feels intentional.
My instincts flare, all my senses focused on what’s on the other side of the door. But all my ears pick up is one set of footsteps.
I glance over my shoulder to make sure Blair is still on the couch with Kylie, and when her eyes meet mine, I see concern etched on her face.
Without hesitation, Rook and Cal step closer to the door with me. We don’t even talk about it.
We move, silently communicating to one another without words, the entire time ensuring we’re a shield to the women behind us.
All three of us know there’s no avoiding it. All three of us know the only option is to open the door.
Rook swings it open, and we come face-to-face with an older vampire who currently occupies the threshold of our front door.
He’s tall, dressed to showcase money, and his hair is pepper gray. He’s calm as his glowing green eyes look at all three of us.
For some reason, I recognize him, and it doesn’t take long for a memory to click into place. The preview event. The night I found Blair. He was there.
He’s elite.
“Hello, Rook. Kane.” His smile deepens as his eyes slide across all three of us. “Calloway.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Rook asks without hesitation.
The man laughs, a full, amused belly laugh that vibrates his chest. “Lucian,” he declares. “Lucian Wrath. Vice President of the Elite Council.”
Oh fuck. They found us.
Something strange flickers across Lucian’s face. It’s not hostility, but it’s not approval either. It’s something else. And fuck does it have me on edge.
I already know he’s a shield just like Holland. I can tell by the way his brain has created a steel fortress that I can’t break through to read his intentions. I’m sure Rook is in the same boat, telepathy not an option at all.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” Lucian says, and the words hang heavy in the night air.
His gaze flicks toward the inside of the cabin briefly before moving back to us.
“And I knew you three would be the ones to change things.”
The night suddenly feels different. The world shifts. And the peace I was feeling before has been replaced by the kind of uncertainty that makes you feel like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to dive into the unknown.
Lucian Wrath simply smiles, as if he already knows how this story will unfold.
But I don’t have a fucking clue what’s going to happen next.
With two fingers to his lips, Lucian lets out a low whistle from his mouth. The sound barely leaves his throat before the night explodes into chaos.
Men in black cars screech to a stop in the driveway, and eight, ten, maybe fifteen fucking vampires move more quickly than we can react to surround the house.
This war we started is in full swing.
The men we’ve killed demand to be avenged. The women we’ve taken—though bound to Slaters by the universe’s decree—the elites believe were promised to them.
And by their code, we owe them our heads.
This isn’t the end yet…