Chapter Thirty-One
Lia
Istare out the window, watching water droplets race down the glass. The road ahead is slick with rain, veiled in a haze of fog. We’re only a few hours into the eight-hour drive, but it feels longer.
Carter’s at the wheel, and Zayne’s riding shotgun.
The vehicle is wrapped in stillness, broken only by occasional murmurs between them. They’re talking about Elijah and some of his new recruits.
Kylo and I sit in the back. I haven’t said a word since we left. I fell asleep not long after we left camp and woke up a few minutes ago.
“I’m going to fall asleep if I don’t put on music,” Carter says, twisting the dial.
The speakers explode with blaring metal.
Zayne whoops beside him, both of them headbanging like they’re at a concert.
“This is how we survive missions,” Kylo says.
The song pulses through the truck, loud and unapologetic.
Maybe it’s the absurdity of it all, or maybe I need the release. When Carter and Zayne start singing along, I join in. My voice blends with theirs, and the tension lifts. The lyrics escape my lips like steam from a pressure valve.
“Get it, Lia!” Carter cheers as we match the high notes of the song.
A few songs pass. Right as I’m about to pick the next song, the truck fades away, along with the music.
I’m back on the dark, gloomy beach. An emptiness surrounds me.
Phenomenal.
“How many times are you going to play this game?” I shout into the empty space.
I turn in a slow circle, scanning for Draven, but the shore is deserted.
“Your guard is down again.” His laughter echoes across the sand, spiraling around me.
I should’ve known better.
“Get out of my damn head.”
“Only you can control that.” His laugh comes again. “You’re pathetically weak. And thanks to you, I see you now. I see everything.”
“I don’t believe you.”
There’s a very real chance Draven knows exactly where I am, but I have to play along until I’m out of here and can figure out my next move.
“You’re in a truck, on your way to me. I’m in your thoughts. You can’t hide.”
Damn it. This just got worse.
Draven appears in front of me, blade drawn. He presses it to his cheek and drags it downward, tracing the old scar. Blood wells and trails down his face, dripping onto the sand.
“I’ll give you a matching one.” He points it at me. “Like the one Daddy gave me.”
A chill rips through me.
It’s true.
Joaquin gave Draven that scar.
I pivot to run, but barely make it a step before Draven grabs my arm and yanks me down. His boot slams down on my hip, pinning me in place. He drives the blade into my side. Agony explodes through my ribs, and a scream rips from my throat as I clutch the wound.
This isn’t real. He’s in my head. I have to shove him out.
I start counting backward from ten, clinging to anything but this place.
Kylo’s the first image that comes to me. I picture us in the training room, remembering every moment I wanted to strangle him and kiss him at the same time. The beach dissolves around me, thinning like smoke in the wind.
The familiar scent of leather and cologne fills my senses.
Kylo’s watching me, concern carved into his features. “What happened?”
“Draven. He knows where we are.”
“Are you serious?” Zayne asks.
Everyone’s in danger because of me. I’ve compromised the mission.
“Fuck,” Kylo mutters, scrubbing a hand through his hair. His eyes dart around the cramped truck cabin, searching for answers he won’t find. “How does he know?”
“I don’t know. He said he could see me. You need to leave me behind. You aren’t safe with me here.”
I’m the broken link in their chain. A vulnerability Draven exploits again and again. It’s the third time I’ve failed to keep him out.
“How could you let that happen? If we have to go off route again, people could die because of us. We might not make it to Leo in time,” Zayne snaps.
The sting lands deeper than any punch could.
I don’t need to read their minds.
Their disappointment and resentment are palpable.
“Please stop the truck.” My plea is barely audible, drowned out by the grind of tires against asphalt.
Carter’s knuckles whiten around the steering wheel, eyes fixed stubbornly ahead, ignoring my request. The tightness in my chest grows unbearable, desperation rising with every passing second.
“Carter!” Kylo shouts. “Stop the damn truck.”
The truck swerves abruptly, jolting violently as it careens off the road and into a ditch. My door flies open, and I stumble out, breaking into a frantic sprint along a narrow dirt trail into the shadowy forest.
I don’t stop running. Not when my lungs burn. Not when my legs threaten to give out. I need to get away.
I collapse, fist pressed against my chest as I fight to drag air back into my lungs. A sharp sting lances through my side. I touch the wound, my hand warm and slick.
I’d forgotten I was hurt.
Dizziness crashes over me. My breaths turn shallow as I fight off the encroaching darkness. Leaves crunch under approaching footsteps, and a pair of black boots stop inches from my vision.
Kylo towers over me, crouching slightly, tension in every line of his body.
“My side—” I rasp out, gesturing toward the wound.
“Carter!” he barks. He drops to his knees. “Take a deep breath for me.”
I inhale, following his lead.
Kylo lifts my top, and I hiss as fresh blood spills out. “Draven did this?”
My breaths come out in choppy gasps. It hurts to breathe. “Yes.”
Carter rushes up. “What’s wrong?”
“She needs healing. Look.” Kylo pulls the fabric back farther.
“And stitches,” Zayne says as he jogs up behind us. “I’ll get the kit.”
My vision smears, like someone’s dimming the lights.
Carter brushes my hair away from my neck, cursing when he sees the bruise. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“I forgot.” My head falls back against Kylo’s hold.
Kylo keeps me upright as Zayne rushes back, kneeling in front of me. “This is going to hurt.”
“Hold her,” Carter orders.
Kylo’s grip tightens. The antiseptic burns through my wound, tearing a cry from my throat. Carter’s fingers hover above my neck, his hand warming the area as he begins to heal me.
Zayne works quickly, ripping into my skin with a needle—stitching, healing, stitching again. My legs twitch involuntarily. My head drops back into Kylo’s lap as the full extent of the damage registers.
The haze begins to lift, relief slowly replacing the pain.
“They’re done,” Kylo says. “The worst part is over.”
Zayne sanitizes his hands while Carter packs the supplies back into the kit.
“We’ll give you two a minute,” Carter says.
Kylo helps me to my feet, his hands locked around my wrists as if he’s forgotten how to let go.
“You should go without me. I’m slowing you all down.”
“We’re not leaving you behind. And none of this is your fault.”
“Tell that to them—” I point toward the truck. “The whole cabin reeked of disappointment and resentment. You included.”
“I don’t resent you.”
“I thought—”
“What you felt wasn’t meant for you. I resent Draven. I resent the Aether Hunters. Not you. There was too much coming at you at once for you to sort out who felt what.”
That’s something I need to work on. Another flaw to add to the list.
“Regardless, I still ruined the mission. I let him in again. I couldn’t stop it.”
“Don’t blame yourself. He waits for moments like that—when you’re asleep or relaxed. That’s not on you.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I admit. “What if this keeps happening and he does find us? I’m a liability. I don’t belong here.”
“You belong as much as the rest of us. And if he does find us?” His eyes light up. “We’re ready. I’ve been waiting years to put his ass in the ground.”
If I could bend time itself, I would give him a life that hadn’t taken everything from him.
He leans in and whispers, “Every time I look at you, I lose the argument I’m having with myself.”
My lips part.
His thumb presses under my chin, tilting my face as he pulls me into a scorching kiss. “Ready to head back?”
“Not at all.”
I’m still recovering from his confession—and that kiss.
He laughs and takes my hand, guiding me toward the truck. The tires are caked in mud. Zayne’s face is streaked with black smudges.
“What happened?” I ask.
“Cleared mud out of the wheel well. Carter buried us halfway into a ditch when he yanked us off the road.”
That happened because of me.
Kylo opens the truck door. “That’s on Draven, not you.”
If I had control like Kylo, Draven would’ve never breached my mind.
Before sitting down, I turn to face all of them. “I should’ve had better control. Now he knows we’re coming.”
“Not necessarily,” Carter says. “We’re still hours out. I doubt he knows about Elijah or his crew. He knows you’re in a truck, but does he know your coordinates?”
“I don’t think so. He only said I was in a truck, heading toward him.”
“He’s bluffing,” Kylo says. “You didn’t know where we were. You were asleep most of the drive. How could he know more than you?”
That possibility hadn’t crossed my mind.
“I don’t know where we are,” I say, relaxing a bit.
“We’re fine,” Carter says firmly. “I’m taking precautions and adjusting our route.”
Kylo winks. “See? Not on you.”
We climb back into the truck. Zayne takes the wheel this time while Carter settles into the passenger seat, looking drained.
“We’re still meeting with Elijah as planned. Draven won’t know the location,” Carter says. “We’ve got a long journey ahead. Get comfortable.”
Kylo keeps his eyes on me for the rest of the drive. I lean against him in the back seat, his fingers weaving through my hair, each slow stroke easing the tension in my shoulders.
I sink closer to him, wishing the road would never end.
His touch soothes me in a way nothing else does. My body finally begins to unwind. Drowsiness rises like a tide, pulling at me. But sleep is a trap, a doorway Draven knows how to open. I have to stay awake.
“Relax. You’re safe. Let yourself rest.” He continues the slow, gentle rhythm, working over my scalp. “Nothing will happen to you. I won’t let it.”
My lashes grow heavier, and everything fades to black.
I ease back to consciousness from the first peaceful sleep I’ve had in days.
“I didn’t have a nightmare.”
No Draven.
No demons.
“I stayed with you in your thoughts,” Kylo says. “Like a shadow curled up in the corner of your mind. If Draven tried to break in, I would’ve known.”
“Thank you.”
His eyes are rimmed with dark circles.
“You should sleep,” I say gently. “You’ll need your strength.”
“I’ll stay awake if it means you can rest easy.”
This man—so quick to shut everyone out—has a side he rarely lets anyone see. A side so tender, so unguarded, it only shows in brief glimmers.
“I’m okay now. Sleep while you can.”
His lips twitch into a faint smile. That dimple steals pieces of my heart every time.
“How much longer?” I ask Carter.
“Three hours.”
Three long hours until I have to face my demented, delusional brother.