Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rocco
The room tilted. I gripped the edge of the table, my chair rocking back on two legs before I caught myself. My pulse hammered against my temples as I stared at Raven, searching her face for any sign of deception.
“Why would you help us? I stole the shard.”
“To save your mother,” Raven said, her gaze steady. “Angelo Santi is ruthless. I believe he would hurt her. Tinkerbell convinced him not to—threatened to tell Serenity if he did.”
I snatched the whiskey bottle and poured another shot, tossing it back. The burn barely registered.
If Serenity didn’t know, that meant Angelo hadn’t told her about the threat against my mother.
Which meant Mom was still alive. The relief hit me so hard my hand shook as I set the glass down.
I’d been bracing for the worst since the houseboat—half expecting Dimitri to call and tell me it was already done.
“Serenity doesn’t know?”
She shook her head. “But somehow I got the impression, Angelo would find himself in the doghouse if she ever found out.”
The doghouse. That was putting it mildly.
Serenity was everything to him. Angelo worshipped the ground she walked on.
Her disappointment would crush him. And a crushed Angelo was either a more dangerous one or a more desperate one.
If Serenity found out he’d threatened my mother—used her as leverage to force me into stealing—she’d burn his world down from the inside.
That was either our death sentence or our lifeline. I just didn’t know which yet.
“But that doesn’t mean he won’t try something else,” Alice added, leaning forward in her chair. “Tinkerbell told him she’s working on a spell to track the shard on the black market. She’s buying us time, not solving the problem.”
A muscle ticked in my jaw. Buying time. That’s all anyone ever did—delay the inevitable while the clock wound down toward the Solstice.
Selena shifted beside me, her hand brushing my thigh under the table.
The touch was light, but I felt the tension coiled beneath it.
I covered her hand with mine, threading our fingers together beneath the table.
She squeezed back. I wanted to take her away from all of this and worship her again and again, but that wasn’t an option. Not now.
The clock was ticking. Every minute we sat in this restaurant was another minute closer to the Solstice—and another minute for Enzo or Costin’s people to find us. We had allies now, a plan, and a way to get to Transylvania. There was nothing left to discuss.
“We need to leave soon,” I said.
“Agreed. I can get us there in five or six hours.” Raven traced the rim of her glass, her dark eyes scanning the bar as if she expected Angelo’s enforcers to materialize from the shadows.
“However, heading out in the middle of the day wouldn’t be wise.
We’d be waving the flag for Enzo, Angelo, and Costin. ”
The mention of Costin’s name sent a spike of unease through my chest. Two predators hunting the same prize—Selena and me.
I glanced at her. She was sitting straight-backed, chin lifted, but I could see the pulse fluttering at the base of her throat.
I pressed my knee against hers under the table. She was my mate. Mine to protect.
Valentin leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his broad chest. His expression was calm, calculating—the look of a man who’d spent years navigating danger. “The bayou would be the best option. Away from prying eyes.”
I glanced toward the window where the darkness had begun to thin, the sky shifting from black to a deep, smoky gray.
The bayou meant isolation. It also meant no witnesses if things went sideways.
But right now, isolation sounded a hell of a lot better than sitting in this bar waiting for Enzo to kick down the door.
“Then let’s go,” Alice said. “The longer we wait, the more time Vex has to destroy the shard.”
I turned to Selena. This was it. Once we walked out that door, there was no turning back. “You sure about this?”
She met my eyes without hesitation. “I told you. For better or worse.”
Lucien peeled a wad of cash from his pocket and tossed it onto the table. The bills fanned out across the scarred wood, and something tightened in my gut.
Good idea. Credit cards left a trail—breadcrumbs for Angelo and Costin to follow straight to us.
I stared at the money, my fingers curling into fists beneath the table. I had nothing to contribute. Not a single coin to my name. The realization burrowed into my chest like a hot coal, shame spreading through my ribs until it was hard to breathe.
Once, I’d had wealth beyond measure. Servants. Power. A kingdom at my fingertips. Prince Rocco—the name had meant something. People had bowed when I entered a room.
Now I couldn’t even pay for my own drink.
What could I offer Selena but a life of misery? Did she really want to remain with a fallen prince who was nothing more than a short order cook? And a terrible one at that.
I swallowed hard, forcing the bitterness down before it could crawl up my throat and spill out as something uglier.
That life was gone. That version of me was gone.
Balthazar had made sure of it. He and Vex and every other demon who’d sunk their claws into my existence had stripped me down to bone and rebuilt me into something I barely recognized.
Selena's fingers found mine under the table. Solid. Grounding. I didn't look at her — couldn't, not with this raw, hollow feeling clawing at my insides — but I held on, letting it anchor me.
There was nothing left to say. No more plans to make, no more allies to convince. Just a demon in Transylvania and a clock running out.
I stood and moved behind Selena’s chair, pulling it out for her. Some things were ingrained too deep to forget, no matter how much the world had tried to strip away from me. My mother had taught me well—had drilled manners into my bones long before Balthazar had tried to drill them out.
Selena glanced up at me and gave me a grateful smile that softened her features.
I caught her hand, her fingers threading through mine, and led her through the crowded pub.
Bodies pressed in on all sides—laughter, clinking glasses, the low hum of conversation—but my focus narrowed to a single point.
If anything happened, I wanted it to happen to me first. I’d put myself between her and whatever was coming.
That wasn’t chivalry. That was instinct.
I shouldered the door open and the sky was just beginning to bleed. My gaze swept the parking lot—every car, every shadow between them. No sleek limousine with tinted windows.
But that meant nothing.
Angelo’s people were old-world vampires. They didn’t need a car to get here. They could move through the city like smoke—silent, fast, and impossible to see coming until it was too late.
Valentin moved ahead of us, his stride purposeful as he led the way to a black SUV parked near the back of the lot. I helped Selena into the backseat and slid in beside her, my hand finding hers the moment the door closed. Her pulse fluttered against my palm—quick, steady, alive. I held on tighter.
The others piled into a truck behind us, and we pulled out of the parking lot in a tight convoy. The bayou was only about fifteen minutes from the Lodge. Fifteen minutes of open road where anything could happen.
No one spoke on the drive. The silence pressed in like a living thing, thick and suffocating.
Selena stared out the window, her jaw set, her free hand resting on her thigh with her fingers slightly curled—ready.
Valentin’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror every few seconds, his knuckles pale against the steering wheel.
Being followed wasn’t just a possibility. It was an expectation.
And once we entered the bayou, all hell could break loose. My stomach tightened, but I shoved the fear down where it couldn’t reach me. Fear was a luxury I couldn’t afford. Selena was counting on me. And this time, I wasn’t going to fail them.
Valentin parked in an empty gravel lot where the road gave way to cypress trees and murky water. Spanish moss hung from the branches like tattered curtains, swaying in a breeze that carried the thick, damp scent of decay and green.
I eased out of the SUV, every muscle coiled tight, and kept Selena close to my side. My gaze swept the tree line—the dense undergrowth, the dark spaces between the trunks where shadows pooled like ink. Perfect territory for an ambush.
Lucien’s truck rumbled up alongside us, gravel crunching beneath the tires. Doors opened. Boots hit the ground.
Raven climbed out last, a weathered backpack slung over one shoulder. Without hesitation, she unzipped the bag and started stripping—quick, efficient, no wasted movement. I looked away, giving her privacy, and fixed my eyes on the tree line until I heard the bag zip shut.
A low growl rumbled beside me—not from a threat in the tree line, but from Lucien. He stepped directly into my line of sight, broad shoulders squaring off like a wall, his eyes burning with a possessive warning that needed no words.
I held up a hand. Easy.
He didn’t have to worry. Raven was stunning, sure—anyone with eyes could see that.
But she didn’t move me. Not the way Selena did.
Ever since I’d tasted Selena’s blood, something had rewired inside me.
Her scent, her pulse, the way her presence hummed against my skin like a low current—she was the only one who made my fangs ache.
The only one who made me feel like I was starving and whole at the same time.
How could I ever have rejected her?
I glanced down at Selena, half-expecting jealousy. Instead, she arched a brow at me, the ghost of a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. She knew. She wasn’t threatened. That confidence did something to me that Raven’s beauty never could.