Prologue
Aster
TWELVE YEARS AGO
'Do you think there’s anywhere the stars are brighter?'
I spoke the words barely louder than a whisper, the dark gobbling them up like some sort of silent vacuum, but Maverick still heard them.
He always did. It was as if he could hear things I didn’t even say.
Maybe because he listened so intently, or maybe because he gave me a safe place to say the things I wasn’t comfortable letting slip free anywhere else.
His strong fingers flexed around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him in the bed of the truck. 'I don’t think there’s anywhere they’re more beautiful.'
The whole landscape was breathtaking—the back pasture of Twisted Oak Ranch, where we could see the forests and fields, and even the pond on my granddad’s ranch peeking out through the trees. Everything about it felt like my favorite place to be. With Maverick, most of all.
I let the heat of his body seep into mine, my eyes drifting shut for just a moment.
I only allowed myself brief, stolen moments like this one when I could pretend that Maverick was more than just my confidante, my partner in crime, and my best friend.
When I could pretend my father didn’t hate him and his entire family with a fiery passion. Stolen moments when he was simply mine.
I forced my eyes open, not letting myself linger in that place where I longed for things that would never be for so many reasons.
'There’s something about the stars here,' I agreed, as I rubbed my cheek against the soft flannel of his shirt. It didn’t matter that it was early June; the nights in Starlight Grove still got cold. Something about that tip-top Northern California mountain air.
Mav absentmindedly tangled his fingers in my hair. 'Maybe because it’s darker here. It means they burn brighter.'
'I like thinking of it that way.' Because there was darkness here. Despite the quaintness of the small town that we called home, with its adorable shops and idyllic beauty, there was always darkness. And we’d both learned the hard way that pitch-black could hide behind the tidy yards and smiling faces.
I shivered, and Maverick pulled me closer, always making sure I was okay. But as he did, I felt his wince. Heard the hiss of air between his teeth.
I instantly sat up. 'What’s wrong?'
Mav grimaced but shook his head. 'Nothing. Come back. You’re my personal heater.'
A scowl twisted my lips as I tugged up his flannel and the tee beneath.
Even in just the moonlight, I could see the bruises.
Angry, black-and-purple mottling that I knew meant more than one blow.
And I didn’t miss the scars below the bruising.
Or the tattoo that spanned his chest and some of his rib cage.
I’d seen the scars before, knew what they were, but they never ceased to stop me in my tracks.
My fingers itched to ghost over the raised and puckered skin as if they could magically erase all the pain that had come with them. Pain of the mind and the body.
'What happened?' I gritted out.
Mav’s hand covered mine, pulling down his shirts. 'Nothing new. Ben and his goon squad got me outside the party last night.'
My scowl only deepened, both at Ben’s assholery and Maverick’s need to hit up every party graduation week had to offer. Sometimes, it felt like he was determined to swallow up everything life put in front of him. Like if he missed one tiny thing, he’d cease to exist.
I bit the inside of my cheek, feeling the sting of my teeth against the flesh. 'What was it this time?'
Maverick shrugged, shoving up to sitting and leaning against the cab of his truck. 'The usual. Doesn’t want my serial killer blood tainting his town.'
Anger flooded my system, making my face flush so hot it felt like my cheeks were burning. 'You need to tell someone.'
Maverick stared back at me, those dark-hazel eyes going the same inky black as the forest around us. 'Tell them what? That he spoke the truth?'
Anger swirled with worry, creating a riotous stew. 'You’re not your father.'
Pain swept across Mav’s face, digging grooves that spoke of things far beyond his eighteen years. 'He’s in me.'
I moved on instinct, placing my hand on his chest and pressing my palm hard against the spot over his heart. The beats came faster than normal, more erratic. 'You’re nothing like him. You are good. Kind. Caring. He has nothing to do with you.'
I couldn’t imagine all Mav and his four older brothers had been through.
He’d only talked about it a handful of times since coming to live with his great-uncle Waylon in Starlight Grove seven years ago, when he’d arrived still recovering from injuries at the hand of his father—a man they’d discovered had killed thirty-six women and nearly one of his sons.
Much of the town hadn’t been pleased about their arrival—my parents included. Others became obsessively fascinated by the Archer brothers, wanting to know every gruesome detail. But me? All I could think about was the emptiness in the eyes of the boy who sat two rows over from me in class.
Maverick’s hand covered mine, pressing it harder against his chest as if he were trying to permanently meld us together. 'You don’t know. Maybe a switch will flip someday, and I’ll want to hurt people, too.'
Pain swept through me. I wanted to burn out every doubt Mav had, shine light on every demon. 'Do you really think that?'
His gaze drifted to the left, toward the forest, the place he’d escape to when he needed to breathe. 'I don’t know what I think.'
'Mav,' I whispered.
Those haunted eyes came back to me.
'I see you. All of you,' I said. 'The good and the bad. The light and the dark.'
A hint of fear edged into his expression, the muscles around his mouth tightening.
'You’re impulsive. Sometimes, downright reckless. But there is nothing in you that wants to hurt others. The only thing you want to do is help: fix a broken tractor on the ranch, help a mama cow give birth, make sure no one you care about is alone when they need you.'
'You sound so sure.' His voice grew rough, as though his throat were strangling each word.
'I am. Because you shine that light on me.' And there was nothing like basking in the glow of Maverick. No other high could touch it.
'Rebel.' He lifted a hand to cup my cheek, the roughened pad of his thumb gliding over the apple of it.
I tried to grab hold of every sensation, burn it into my brain so I’d never lose it. His nickname for me ghosted over my skin, and I tried to hold tight to that, too. The moniker he’d given me from the moment I’d snuck onto the Archers’ ranch, trying to catch a glance of the infamous boys.
'Gotta be a rebel if she’s brave enough to steal away over here. I say we keep her.'
And they had, in a way. He had.
Maverick’s body shifted, leaning closer to me. My breath caught, lungs seizing at the what-if. My mind went wild, wondering if maybe, just maybe, this was the moment I’d imagined ever since I no longer believed boys had cooties.
He was so beautiful, staring at me in the moonlight, his dark-brown hair a little wild…just like him. Those haunted eyes were so captivating, even with the ghosts that lived there—maybe partly because of them.
His gaze dipped to my lips, tracing their curve and swell. My heart hammered against my ribs, and blood roared in my ears. I wanted to know what it was like to have Mav’s mouth pressed against mine. To know what he tasted like. To feel the heat that always seemed to engulf him.
I leaned forward ever so slightly, but Mav didn’t miss it. He never missed anything about me. He closed the distance, moving slowly, giving me every chance to stop him. I knew I should—for so many reasons.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I played with fire.
Maverick’s mouth eased over mine, all heat and gentle pressure. And my body felt like a live wire, sparking to life with an energy I’d never felt before. His fingers slipped into my hair as his tongue slid into my mouth.
He tasted like oranges. Oranges and a hint of something earthy I couldn’t name. But my body recognized it as everything I’d ever wanted.
I moved into him, instinct taking over. It didn’t matter that I’d only kissed one boy before this: Gabe Jensen in a stupid seven minutes in heaven dare. My body knew what it wanted. More Maverick.
Only Maverick.
I let out a tiny mewling noise, a vibration that swept from my mouth to his. Maverick reacted instantly, lifting me onto his lap so I could straddle him. His tongue drove deeper, and my hips rocked against him.
Mav let out a moan, only spurring me on. I wanted more. I wanted… everything.
A ringing sound broke through the buzzing in my ears. Not a phone call, I realized— an alarm. I tore my mouth from Mav’s and grabbed my phone, a curse slipping free.
Maverick’s lips twisted in that lopsided grin I loved so much. 'Aster Carrington, as I live and breathe. Did you just drop an F-bomb?'
I glared at him as I silenced my alarm. 'I curse sometimes.'
He arched a brow.
'Occasionally. When the situation calls for it.'
That grin only grew. 'And now calls for it?'
I let out a huff of breath. 'I have to go home.'
It was Mav’s turn to scowl. 'We’re going to college in a couple of months, and your dad still insists on a curfew?'
My lips thinned. 'You know how he is.'
Maverick shook his head. 'He’s an asshole.'
My mind filled in other descriptors.
Controlling. Manipulative. Brutal.
'I don’t want to push him,' I said quietly. It was a delicate dance as it was, getting him to let me go to UC Davis instead of Vassar like he wanted. If he’d known Mav would be there, too, he might not have been so understanding.
Mav’s hands moved to my hips, squeezing gently. 'You can’t let him control you.'
'It’s complicated.' And that was the world’s greatest understatement. Christian Carrington was always playing chess, while the rest of us were playing checkers.
'Camilla can’t cover for you?' Mav pressed.