Chapter Twenty-Six
THE SIGHT OF those birds burned into my skull, tiny bodies crumpled on the floor, wings twisted wrong, feathers matted with dried blood. A message. A warning.
And they’d left it in her room.
Wren was stiff as stone, eyes hollow, skin pale.
If I let her stand there another second, she’d shatter.
I slid an arm around her waist, felt the tremor running through her, and muttered through clenched teeth, “Come on.” She didn’t fight me, didn’t even breathe, just let me haul her out into the hall and to my room.
I shoved the door open hard enough to rattle the frame. “In here.”
She walked like her legs barely worked, slow and shaky, until she dropped onto the edge of my bed. Jewel’s eyes caught mine at the end of the hall.
“Stay with her,” I snapped. My voice came out harder than I meant, but I didn’t give a damn. “Elara too. Don’t leave her alone.”
Jewel didn’t argue. Elara arrived a breath later, reading the tension in one look. They went inside without a word, settling near her as she sat stiff, the glass bird in her hand like a weak defense.
I shut the door and turned for the war room, fury burning so hot in my chest it felt like acid. Every muscle in me screamed to hunt the bastard who’d gotten inside, drag him out by the throat, and bleed him into the dirt.
Instead, I walked into the war room.
The door slammed against the wall. Warden was bent over the table with maps spread wide, Hex and Rex flanking him. Conversation cut off the second they saw me.
“We got a rat,” I said, my voice raw and certain. “No other explanation.”
Silence locked the room tight.
Warden straightened slow, eyes narrowing. “What happened?”
“Someone left a message in Wren’s room.” My jaw ticked as I forced the words out. “Dead birds. Inside. Which means somebody walked right through our walls to get to her.”
Rex cursed. Hex’s fist cracked down on the table so hard the maps jumped.
“And it’s not just that,” I said, heat climbing my throat. “The note on my bike. The ambush at the ranch. None of it happens unless someone’s feeding them our movements, where we’d be, when we’d be there. Now they know they can walk into our house.”
The room erupted, muttered curses, fists pounding the table, chairs scraping back like claws on wood. The stink of sweat, smoke, and fury pressed thick against my skin.
Warden’s voice cut through, low and cutting. “You’re saying one of ours is talking.”
“I’m saying there’s no other answer.”
The silence that followed weighed heavier than shouting. A rat in the clubhouse wasn’t just betrayal, it was rot. It was poison in the blood.
“We find him,” Hex growled.
“And we bury him,” Rex added, eyes mean.
Damn right.
I dragged a hand down my face, trying to cage the rage clawing up my spine. “Wren’s in my room with Jewel and Elara. She doesn’t need to see this. But make no mistake, we’ve been breached. Until we know who opened that door, none of us sleep easy.”
Warden scanned the table, his voice clipped and final. “Lock it down. Nobody in or out without my word. We start pulling strings, checking every call, every plate, every movement. If there’s a rat here, we smoke him out.”
A thought slashed through me, ugly. “If they wanted her dead, she’d be dead. Whoever it is, they’re not just trying to kill her, they want her terrified and quiet.”
The room shifted, mutters rising. Maul leaned forward, his voice rough. “Maybe we’re not looking at a killer. Maybe we’re looking at someone who just wants her gone.”
“Roxy,” someone spat.
The name cracked through the air. My gut turned.
Every eye landed on me.
I ground my teeth. I didn’t want to give it breath, but burying it would only make it fester.
“She was in my room this morning,” I said, voice like gravel. “Waiting for me. When I shut her down, she pulled out another card.”
Warden’s eyes narrowed. “What card?”
I almost laughed, bitter. “She says she’s pregnant.”
The room exploded. Curses, barking laughter, disbelief. Half the table looked at me like I’d been stupid enough to let her trap me, the other half ready to rip her apart on the spot.
Throttle slammed his mug down so hard coffee splashed across the wood. His stare drilled into me. “And you didn’t think that was something the girl you’re protecting deserved to know?”
Rage flared hot and sharp. I leaned forward, teeth bared. “Because it’s bullshit. She’s lying. You think I’d be that careless? You think I wouldn’t know?”
Throttle didn’t blink. “Doesn’t matter if it’s bullshit. What matters is Wren. You’re asking her to trust you while that whore spreads stories linking you together. You think she won’t hear it? You think it won’t break her when she does?”
The room went still. Everyone waiting for me to swing. My fists itched with it. Christ, I wanted to put him on the floor, but he wasn’t wrong.
I forced my breath through my nose. “If she’s really pregnant, a test clears it. And when it does, Roxy’s gone. I’ll deal with it.”
“You’d better,” Throttle said, voice like steel. “Because if Wren takes the hit for your past shit, that’s on you.”
My jaw twitched. “I said I’ll handle it.”
Warden’s voice sliced the tension. “Enough. Roxy’s on the list, same as the prospects. She’s got motive and access. We don’t take chances.”
The mutters returned, lower this time, colder, brothers already turning names into death warrants.
Then Warden’s gaze locked on me, heavy enough to pin me to the chair. “We’re not running blind anymore. We need answers. And the only person who’s seen enough to give us something is Wren.”
I knew what was coming before he said it.
“You’ve got to get her to talk, Ashen. What she saw. Who Venom trusted. Who else was around. Without that, we’ve got nothing.”
The words hit harder than I wanted to admit. I thought of her in my bed, wide eyes staring at the glass bird, whispering my name last night like it meant something. Asking her to dig through that hell again could break her.
But Warden was right.
We didn’t have the luxury of waiting.
I gave him a tight nod, chest burning. “I’ll talk to her.”
The vow settled deep in my bones, heavy as iron.
Because if she didn’t—if she couldn’t—this war was going to eat us alive.
***
THE WAR ROOM still rang in my head when I shoved the door open. My brothers’ voices, the weight of Warden’s order, it all stuck in my blood.
Get her to talk.
The last damn thing I wanted was to push Wren before she was ready, but if I didn’t, we were flying blind into a war we couldn’t win.
Jewel and Elara sat with her when I stepped inside. Jewel had a book in her hand, reading something soft-voiced. Elara had a mug of tea resting between her palms. Wren was curled up against the headboard, blanket around her shoulders, the glass bird perched on the nightstand like a sentinel.
Three pairs of eyes cut to me. Jewel read the storm on my face quick, snapping her book shut.
“Come on,” she told Elara, already moving for the door. “Let’s give them space.”
Elara hesitated, gaze lingering on Wren, then me. Like she wanted to say something but thought better of it. Finally, she followed Jewel out. The door shut behind them with a soft click.
Silence swelled in the room.
Wren’s eyes were on me, wide and guarded. She wasn’t trembling, not yet, but her body was too still. Like she was bracing.
I dragged a hand down my face, took a step closer, then stopped. Didn’t want to crowd her. Didn’t want her thinking this was about force.
“I need to ask you something,” I said. My voice came out rough, heavier than I meant.
She didn’t move. Didn’t nod. Just stared, clutching the blanket tighter.
I exhaled hard, pacing a few steps before turning back. “Warden thinks… hell, we all think you might know things. About Venom. About who he trusted. About who might’ve been at that ranch.”
Her throat worked. The blanket bunched tighter in her fists.
I shook my head, hating the way her face went pale. “I know this isn’t fair. You’ve already been through more than any woman should have to take, and I swore I’d never press you like this, but someone out there wants you dead. And if you don’t help me, I can’t keep you safe.”
Her eyes filled, shimmering under the light. She looked away, lips pressed tight, like she could hold the words inside forever.
I moved to the edge of the bed, lowering myself slow. Close enough to touch, but I didn’t. My hands hung between my knees, fists clenched.
“I went back to that house,” I told her, keeping my voice even. “Me, Warden, the twins. Someone was there. Waiting. They opened fire on us.”
Her head snapped toward me, eyes wide in horror.
“Yeah,” I said, my jaw tight. “We walked out breathing, but next time it could be different. And if they get to you before we find them…”
The words dried in my throat. I couldn’t say it.
She was shaking now, small tremors under the blanket. Her lips parted once, no sound coming, then closed again.
“Wren.” I leaned in, forcing her to see me, to hear me. “I’m not asking for every detail. I’m asking for anything. A name. A face. A voice. Something I can use to put these bastards in the ground before they get to you.”
For a long moment, all I heard was her breathing, ragged and uneven.
Then her lips moved again.
One word. Barely a whisper.
“Bones.”
The sound of it carved through me. Not just because it was the first time she’d given me a name, but because I knew that name.
A Fire Dragon.
I held her gaze, my chest burning. “You did good,” I said, rough, fierce. “Real fucking good.”
She flinched, eyes darting down like she regretted it the second it left her mouth.
I reached out slow, my hand brushing hers where it clutched the blanket. “No one touches you, Wren. Not while I’m breathing. You trust me on that.”
Her eyes lifted, uncertain, shining.
And even with the war pressing in, even with my blood boiling at what she’d just handed me, one thing anchored me to the ground: She trusted me enough to speak.
And I’d burn the world down before I let her pay for it.