21. Caged BirdBuried Body
I didn’t realize how loud the wilderness was until it went completely silent.
Late-season cicadas buzzed in waves, the wind rustled dying green and gold leaves, and rain was still pitter-pattering onto rocks and pine needles.
But that all stops at the edge of this graveyard, nature itself going quiet, paying its respects to death, the ultimate predator.
The surname FURY is etched into the gravestone as clear as day, but moss is embedded in the first name, and I can’t bring myself to peel it back. I’m afraid to after what he just said.
“It’s not her,” Orion answers my unspoken question. “My aunt is buried there. Flora Fury. My dad’s sister. We were visiting her grave that day.” Grief grates his voice like gravel, so raw it hurts my throat.
“Flora Fury,” he repeats, his voice unwavering. “Names are important around here. Say them aloud and they live on forever.”
“Flora Fury,” I echo softly.
Deep pain slashes across his face, replaced by rage and sorrow that carve his features and etch into his bones, dragging his shoulders down.
“The graveyard at Whitby Rose Chapel is neutral ground. Always has been. Wildes and Furys buried our dead here for generations, even before the feud began. The only place kept sacred.” His jaw tightens before he spits, “But it became her pyre.”
He shudders, then steadies, chin raised and machete fisted at his side. “We scattered most of Momma’s ashes on Fury land, so she could be close to King. The rest,” he gestures to his aunt’s grave, “we left here beside her best friend.”
He scans the abandoned graveyard, shaking his head. “I guess no one’s come back since.”
I bite my tongue to keep my racing thoughts from flying free, waiting, listening.
“It was supposed to be a normal visit. Like always. Just in case…” He chokes like he’s drowning in a memory. “I was supposed to be the lookout.”
My breath hitches.
Orion, no…
“At seventeen, I was old enough to protect us. But Dash was hanging with me while I learned the new crossbow she’d given me for my birthday. I was distracted.”
His scarred hands curl tighter at his sides. In his next ragged breath, I can almost feel the moment everything went wrong.
“We heard glass shatter. Then a scream.” His voice breaks. “She and Hatch were attacked.”
“A mom and her child?” My chest strangles the words out. “ Why ?”
“Why do Wildes do anything? And Bossie Wilde’s kin is some of the worst,” he snaps bitterly. “I don’t know how it started, Hatch won’t talk about it, but the next thing I saw was the dry brush going up in a flash.”
My heart climbs into my throat.
“Flames were everywhere. A tree fell across the fence in front of the exit, trapping Momma and Hatch against the gravestone. And Bossie Wilde’s boys… fuck, they just stood there. Watching.” His eyes flick to mine. “Rufus’s and Bart’s father, along with two other bastards I never knew.”
Rage boils hot behind my sternum. Orion’s gaze returns to the gravestone, like he sees it all again in his mind’s eye.
“Dash went straight to Momma and Hatch, but I… I saw red. Two fled. I didn’t give the third coward the chance. I stabbed him, but he cut me back before he went down.” He presses his fingers over his heart, his birthmark. “I didn’t even feel the pain. Not then anyway.”
He swallows, and his voice gets even quieter, reverent.
“Momma protected Hatch, shielding him against the gravestone with her body. When the tree cracked”—he points to a broken section big enough for someone to fit in—“she pushed him out before it fell on her. I went in, not thinking. I got her out.”
His hands flex in the air like a tactile memory, and my heart hurts at the sight of the roughened palms that have only ever been soft with me. The burn scars. I never asked the specifics. My dad hates when people ask about his, so I learned early to let people tell their own stories.
But I don’t think I would’ve ever been ready for Orion’s nightmare.
His voice trembles. “I was too late. Dash did everything he could, but the trunk crushed her thigh. She never stood a chance.” He nods to the gravestone. “This is where Momma bled out in our arms.”
I trace the FURY on the headstone, a new reverence in the touch as another Fury name I didn’t realize I remembered comes to mind.
“Ruth ‘Queenie’ Fury,” I say, the words choking my throat.
He waits a beat, then takes my hand, lifting me up.
“I’ve protected you ever since. One way or another. At first from here, making sure no Wilde crossed the Louisiana line. Then when you turned eighteen, I went to New Orleans. I was your shadow. I honored the pact by staying away as much as I could, but I still protected my wife. Always.”
My heart pounds as he steps closer, and with the dark promise clouding his eyes, for the first time, it fully resonates how far he’d go for that vow.
“But when I saw Bart and Rufus, the sons of one of the monsters who killed my mom… I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t prevent my mom’s death. But I’ll be damned if a Wilde, if anyone , takes you too.”
The graveyard seems to hold its breath with me.
“This,” he gestures broadly, “is why our families need the Troisgarde-Fury pact.” His scarred palms close over mine, as he says gently, “This is why I need you. You may think this pact is a curse. But you’re my salvation.”
Those words weigh heavy between us, pressing against my chest.
He scans the stones again, then exhales. “And Sol is one of the most dangerous men in the country. The King kin want to bring him back into play.”
I’m shaking my head before he finishes. “And I’m supposed to accept that? That I’m some… bargaining chip in a blood war I have nothing to do with?”
His jaw hardens. “The Wildes won’t stop with us.
Your father’s denial doesn’t change the reality that your family’s already in this war.
The Bordeauxs are the closest to our feud.
If the Wildes wipe us out, y’all are next.
The Troisgarde fathers pledged themselves into this alliance.
If they’re honorable men, their word is their bond, and so is mine.
I’ll do whatever it takes to protect the people I love from getting hurt again. ”
Love?
Thick, humid mountain air catches in my lungs.
Does he mean me? His family? Both?
“What if I’m the one you hurt in the process?” I ask, almost too softly to hear. “Would you still do ‘whatever it takes’?”
“If it saves you from this fate?” His eyes flick to the burned gravestone. “I would, Luna. And I wouldn’t lose a wink of goddamn sleep over it.”
I cringe, the words cutting deep. “But… couldn’t my family just agree to protect you? That’s how it is with the Troisgarde.”
He shakes his head. “They’ve had decades to strengthen their power. We need you now, and there’s nothing to ensure the Troisgarde will make good on their promise. Not without marriage.”
My stomach drops. “So that’s why marriage is so important to the Furys?”
He studies me for a moment before answering. “Marriage is the only thing that guarantees nearly unbreakable alliances. The only sacred bond anyone respects anymore. The Troisgarde daughters are the key to ensure every family is pledged to side with the King Fury kin.”
My blood runs cold, and an icy laugh stabs through my sternum. “The daughters are the key, huh? So none of you care which daughter you claim, so long as she can be trussed up and used as a weapon or shield at your convenience?”
Orion’s hands tighten on mine in a possessive grip as he tries to draw me to him. His voice drops into a growl.
“After everything, you know it’s not like that, Luna. You are mine.”
God, I love the sound of that. But I shouldn’t, and my feet stay firmly put. My eyes fall to the grave, away from him, before I lose the fight against the whirlwind of emotions already trying to consume me.
“I’m sorry about your mom, Orion. About everything you and your family have gone through. It’s tragic in an unimaginable way, and my heart breaks for you. But…” I draw in a shaky breath. “She was a martyr in this feud.” I exhale and finally meet his eyes. “It’s cruel to ask me to be the same.”
He jolts back, dropping my hands like they burned him. His lips curl, and his words struggle to escape through clenched teeth.
“Are you comparing my mother’s sacrifice to you being asked to honor your marriage vow?”
“Of course not. It’s a far from perfect comparison. But you have to see this is wrong. It wasn’t my vow.”
“Jesus.” He scrubs a hand down his face, then lets out a low, bitter chuckle. “Do you really think marrying me is the worst thing that could happen to you? Have you not been fucking listening?”
I blink at him, stunned as he backs up with heavy steps, the gravestone becoming a wall between us.
“My family is dying, Luna. Like it or not, you became my family the moment your father bet your life and put a target on your back. Which means, I don’t care if you don’t want to marry me, not when this union is the only thing that can keep you safe.”
I force myself to focus, my emotions spiking to new heights, hatred over this situation and his words burning in my veins. Yet the determination and dedication in his voice makes me melt for him. The confusing mix destroys me like acid.
“There’s no ‘if’ I do or don’t want to get married, Orion. I think I’ve made it pretty clear that the Troisgarde daughters don’t want to be forced to marry Furys. I’ll run again if you try.”
His caustic laugh singes me, making me wince. “And I think it’s pretty clear the Furys do not give a fuck. You’re acting like you have a choice. Sorry, birdie. You’re stuck with your black knight. Try flying away from me again, and I’ll clip your wings to keep you.”
The words hang like a noose between us.
“Doesn’t that make you just as bad as the Wildes?” I ask sharply.
His nostrils flare. “I am nothing like them. Wildes take what they want and don’t give a fuck about anyone else.”
“Unlike you?”