Chapter 14
The drive home was silent, too silent.
Even the rumble of the engines sounded heavier, like the air itself was weighed down with fury.
The SUVs moved in tight formation, headlights cutting through the darkness like blades.
The men said nothing, their faces carved from stone, their eyes still burning from the memory of Havoc, the blood, the screams, the way the demons had come for us like wolves.
But it wasn’t the demons that had the Dragic brothers seething now. It was Caesar.
The moment we pulled through the mansion gates, the guards swarmed the perimeter. Every inch of the estate buzzed with tension. I could feel it in the bond with Volken, the tightly leashed rage rolling off him like static.
He was out of the SUV before I’d even unbuckled my seatbelt. His voice thundered across the courtyard, sharp and clipped as he gave orders. “Double the guards. Every exit, every corridor. No one leaves, no one enters. I want a full sweep of the grounds and the vehicles before dawn.”
Draugr’s deep voice followed, low and lethal. “If anything looks wrong, you burn it. No questions.”
Viking slammed his car door shut, muttering curses under his breath as he stalked toward the mansion. Roman and Lucien stayed close to Layla and Sorcha, who looked pale beneath the dim porch lights. The women didn’t speak, just clung to their mates’ hands as though anchoring them.
Volken turned back to me, eyes wild, blue fire burning under the surface. “You shouldn’t have been there,” he growled, striding to me, hands closing over my arms as if he needed to feel me solid, alive. “I shouldn’t have let you go.”
“Volken…” I started, but he cut me off.
“They targeted you, Runa. You. They knew we’d all be there. They…” He stopped, jaw tightening as his voice cracked under the weight of restrained fury. “Caesar did this. He’s behind it, I swear it.”
His fingers were trembling where they gripped me, and it hit me that his anger wasn’t just rage, it was terror.
“Volken,” I whispered, pressing my hand against his chest, feeling the rough rise and fall of his breath. “I’m fine. We’re fine. Everyone’s alive.”
He didn’t seem to hear me. His eyes were unfocused, far away, still replaying every second of the fight. “If something had happened to you…”
“It didn’t,” I interrupted, sharper now, forcing him to look at me. “I’m right here.”
For a second, he just stared, his chest rising and falling too fast. Then, slowly, the tension in his hands eased, barely.
But before either of us could say more, the world tilted. My stomach clenched violently.
I pressed a hand to my mouth, swallowing against the sudden wave of nausea that hit me like a storm.
“Runa?” Volken’s voice snapped back into focus, sharp with alarm.
“I…” I didn’t get the chance to finish before I turned, stumbling away from him as my body revolted. I barely made it to the edge of the courtyard before I doubled over, sick.
Volken was there in an instant, his hands catching my shoulders, his voice no longer commanding but panicked. “Runa, look at me.”
The world blurred for a moment, my breath coming shallow as I tried to steady myself. “I think…it’s just shock, maybe. I’m fine.”
“The hell you are,” he growled, his eyes flicking over my face, my body, as if searching for invisible wounds. “If this is Caesar’s doing, the motherfucker.”
“Volken,” I said again, weak but insistent. “He didn’t do this.”
But he wasn’t listening. I could see it, the darkness gathering behind his eyes, the same murderous focus I’d seen when he fought. His fury was too big for reason, too fierce for comfort.
Lucien’s voice broke the air behind us. “Get her inside,” he ordered, his own tone heavy with command. “We’ll deal with Caesar later.”
“I am dealing with him,” Volken shot back, his voice like thunder. “He wants war? He’ll get it.”
Layla’s voice rose next, softer but trembling. “Roman…Aleksander…I’m going to go up to see him.”
Roman’s head snapped toward her immediately. “He’s fine,” he said, but I could hear the edge in his voice, the fear buried under the calm.
“I just, need to see him.” Layla’s voice cracked on the last word, and that was enough.
Without another word, Roman took her hand and led her inside, his movements fast, protective, almost desperate.
Across the courtyard, Sorcha was already moving, her fingers gripping Lucien’s arm. “I need to see our daughter,” she said, voice tight.
Lucien gave a curt nod, his eyes hard. “We’ll go now.”
And just like that, the women disappeared into the house, heading for the nursery wing, mothers chasing proof that their children were safe.
Volken stood frozen for a moment, his fury clashing with the hollow silence that followed. He looked down at me, still pale, still weak in his grip, and something inside him seemed to break.
He lifted me easily, one arm under my knees, the other around my back, carrying me toward the house. “We’re going upstairs,” he said, his voice a low promise. “You’re not leaving my sight again.”
I didn’t argue. I was too tired, too sick, too aware of how his chest trembled against mine even as he tried to steady me.
As we passed through the mansion doors, I caught sight of Draugr and Viking speaking in low, urgent tones. Their eyes were like dark fire, and I knew every one of them was thinking the same thing.
The demons weren’t done. Caesar wasn’t done. And neither were they.